Yes, I know I’ve been gone for a while. And boy is there a lot to catch you all up on. I just didn’t feel inspired to write, guess that happens to the best of us. So I’ll do my best to give you all the good dirt shortly. In the meantime let’s get back in the game…
So yesterday someone offended me so much that I almost got into a shouting match. At work. At a department lunch.
What could they have possible said that would offend me so that I saw red?
That people who live in Manhattan only do so at that EARLY stage of their life. You know, the one before they grow up and realize how foolish it is not to have a yard and space for grown up stuff.
Okay, so he totally didn’t say it exactly like that. But he kind of did. And man o man that just rubbed me the wrong way.
It is interesting that of all the conversations I have had over the years this is the only one that really got my goat in that quite a while. This guy was speaking from experience, his friends who had lived in the city in their twenties all picked up and moved to the burbs in their thirties. Thus in his mind that is just what people do moving through the stages of their lives.
One thing that bothered me is that he refused to accept that there were people who didn’t fit his known mold. I kept trying to tell him I’m in my thirties and by god I don’t want a yard (Mowing?? Gardening?? Pshaw.) And think a one bedroom is plenty of space for little ole me. Heck, I have guilt at the idea of owning too much stuff because that makes me a capitalist pig who can’t pick up and move to another country on a whim.
Because I do that so often. Yeah.
He also really implied that once the mystique of the city wore off and your priorities were in place leaving the city was the right thing to do. That’s kind of what really got me the most. My priorities are totally together, living here is still a dream come true. It is expensive for a reason – everyone wants to live here! Supply and demand.
It is rare these days to find someone who wants to put me into a square hole when I am a firework peg. Someone who insists that eventually I, too, will succumb to their idea of what is right. Which is really fortunate as a whole, it is nice not to have to deal with that with any near the frequency that I did back in the Midwest.
Also I get it that maybe it is a bit of cognitive dissonance on his end and all. Sell hard because you are really selling yourself kind of thing.
So no I didn’t beat him down. And I changed the subject lickity split. To keep the peace an all. Cause I’m good like that.
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