Since I've moved for 1/2 the week to Brooklyn for work I've occasionally taken advantage of that fact, although we're a decent distance away from anything tourists would frequent.  As in across from some projects over Flatbush Ave. When I first moved there it was winter and I was ready to be on the offensive once I left work after sundown, since it's not a safe area. I closed all open areas of my purse, clutched it, and determinedly walked towards Borough Hall where it doesn't have that vibe. That sense that you're not really sure what could happen, but there are almost no people around, everything's closed, and you still have a 5 minute walk before you hit the safer (aka other people appear) area.

Beyond that, however, as the weather has gotten better and the time change ensures I have more non-sketchy exits from work, which is a blessing. It's also allowed me to take paths I never would have otherwise. The first time I walked the Brooklyn Bridge was in 2003 as a tourist/New Jerseyan. Since I've been in the new office, I've walked that bridge twice on clear days, dodging cyclists and tortoise tourists. It's a nightmare of trying to move where it's most efficient, even for someone who used to navigate Grand Central every day at rush hour. Any type of cut-out from the path leads to giant backlogs for photo ops, but requires vigilance for your safety and others for over a mile.

This past Friday I walked the Manhattan Bridge for the first time. It's a totally different experience, and a perfect encapsulation of the difference between a New Yorker versus a tourist. The bridge path was practically empty compared to the chaos of the BB, which was an instant plus. Bikers and pedestrians are given separate pathways on either side of the bridge so there's no chance of being flattened by a speeding cyclist. Passing by graffiti and broken bottles with no one else in sight is common, unlike the tourist-sanitized BB, and all the while the subway trains thunder by every few minutes, shaking the bridge as they come and go.

There are things that people, and especially native New Yorkers, don't think about since it's our daily lives. I'm sure there are people who purposely commute across the MB since it's so much more convenient if you want exercise instead of taking mass transit, but not putting yourself on a high-stress commute where you have to be 100% alert every step like the BB.

I guess what I'm saying is that I'm trying to make the best of the hand I've been given, and experience more of the non-tourist experiences, even if it means emerging on Canal Street in 90 degree heat. I don't regret a minute of it, and I've learned that New York attitude where I know I'm red-faced, swiping sweat off the back of my neck with a paper towel (side note: always have one of these handy in the summer in NY), lugging a backpack, but really don't care what people think as I pass them. My life is my business, none of theirs, and I'm no longer ashamed. It's an encouraging self esteem lesson, and also a great exercise going off the tourist path :). Another reaffirmation of why I feel I belong here.

I've seen a fair amount of Broadway and off-Broadway shows in my time since I grew up in Jersey and ultimately moved into Manhattan. Last night I saw Wicked, courtesy of a friend who managed to procure us great seats. I've seen Cats at the Winter Garden (my first play), the (original) Les Miserables, Miss Saigon, and the preview of Titanic all before I was 18. Since then, I've seen Avenue Q, Phantom of the Opera, and now Wicked.

I hit adolescence singing Miss Saigon first, Les Miz as a second musical, Jesus Christ Superstar after watching it performed at my high school. I even had a small role in our middle school version of Annie since my voice wasn't strong or true enough to really make a showing, but it was still interesting being an extra.

One thing that was cemented from that experience is that I don't have that natural talent and never will. I can sing decent karaoke, but I know that I was only made to appreciate, not create or publicly sing these songs. Some things you have to be born with, and the arts, be it painting, music, singing, or other areas are where that is most true. I don't punish myself for it; I have a decent voice and played decent viola, but music was not one of my inclinations. It still doesn't affect my awe for true talent, and it's always something I admire more since I know just how hard it must be to have that gift, develop it, work the hell out of it, and bring it proudly to the masses.

Another reason I'm glad to be in NYC. The best abilities on display, arts or otherwise, and even the secondary talent gravitates here most times :). Best of both worlds.

One of the strangest things about NYC versus other places in our nation is how public everything is. On our regular days, we go out and have a great time, reveling in the attention. On our worst days, we cry in public and someday realize the fact that we really don't give a damn about what people think walking by.  We belong here where things are raw and in your face, and that's okay.

How I Met Your Mother was set in New York and of course wasn't realistic about a lot of things, but there was an episode I always strongly identify with called Subway Wars. Along with the major narrative of twenty-somethings trying to prove their ability that they are a success in some way, there's the "rules" of being a real New Yorker. One rule was crying on the subway and not caring about being seen. Public displays of emotion (PDE rather than PDA) are common, as are public fights, not just in the subway but on the streets. Even if you are the PDE, you just go wherever you're headed afterward with minimal embarrassment; you cry or rage, find your way to your intended destination, glare at obvious awkward glances, acknowledge the sympathetic ones, and don't feel ashamed at displaying in public what would be private emotions elsewhere.

I think a lot of being okay with this has to do with what type of person you are in terms of being comfortable in how you see yourself overall. I tend to be a fairly private, self-conscious person, but over years here I've adjusted. I've cried, I've laughed, I've had PDAs and many PDEs. And every time it happened, something else occurred. Incrementally I became more comfortable with myself and my emotions, and truly realized that I'm not the center of the universe, I'm a peripheral that others see as they go about their business. If something happens publicly, I no longer want to fade to invisibility, but will pick myself up afterwards and move on without the crushing shame that enveloped me in earlier years.

On the other side, you acquire an ability to ignore the PDEs you see and respect their public privacy (oxymoron, I know), pass the homeless and beggars without giving money since at least half are scams, and still give to real charities to address the non-scam PDEs. All the while knowing that the mass crowds of humanity surrounding you all have their own stories. And on a positive side, sometimes you have someone to help you through a PDE, even a complete stranger, which I've also witnessed many times.

NYC can rekindle your faith in humanity since it exposes so much of what is hidden elsewhere, and shows the extreme positives and negatives that occur every day. Here we can face them, and sometimes improve our and other peoples' lives, openly and without shame.