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The thoughtful Brooklyn Gal recently wrote a post about whether or not life in New York City is worth the inordinate expense. A fair question, one I even asked myself before I decided to come back here after college. 

Of course, if thoughtfulness isn’t anything, it’s contagious. While some commenters and linkers have managed to stay on topic, some have taken the opportunity to express their frustrations that they aren’t wealthy and rich and fabulous and have a man/woman and blame it on New York City like Mets fans scapegoat Willie Randolph. 

Whenever I get exasperated at this crap, I’m told, “You’re biased; you’re from here.” Damn straight, but that doesn’t make your arguments the least bit legitimate! At least I am upfront about where I’m coming from! Whenever I hear or read some wistful musing on how life might be better elsewhere, the illogic of the arguments somehow aren’t important. If you’re from somewhere else in America and you whine about how tiny your apartment is, how hard it is to save money, how ambitious you have to be to live here, how people here drink too much, how people here don’t grow up and aren’t truly “mature”, and how people aren’t about committed relationships here, you are an idiot. Period. The comments box is down there, you can email me at rumandpopcorn@gmail.com. 

You knew it would be expensive when you moved here. Shut it. You knew you’d be living in tiny apartments or shacking with roomies well into your thirties. Zip it.  You came here because you thought you were too big-time for whatever corner of the earth you were from, so you came here to pursue your dreams. There’s no shame if you haven’t tried and not made it; there’s no shame in deciding you want a slower, more affordable lifestyle and leaving. But if you’re here, put a sock in it. You think that people don’t drink in other parts of the country? Are you insane…where do you think you got YOUR massive tolerance from? Pipe down! People here don’t grow up? You mean like the guy who has three kids and just got Rock Band who used to live down the street from you. That’s great. Shut up. No one is committed here and ever gets married. That’s great. Can you break the news to all my friends who got married, especially ones just recently? (Congrats, Adam and Susan, you made the blog in a completely unsentimental fashion! You know I would give you guys nothing less!) Stop it!

When life isn’t going your way, it’s easy to scapegoat New York. It’s loud, rude, and crazy, and Republican mayors can try all they want, but they’ll never totally erase the faint stench of urine from certain corners of the city. But until you look in the mirror to take on your problems, you’re just going to carry your problems to Ocala or Sheboygan or Duluth or Rockville or Arlington or Helena or San Jose. And you’ll still have your problems without being in the place you know deep in your heart is the greatest city in the world. And then you’re really fucked.

 

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