Location, location, location

Is it weird to have a specific alliance to a place? When you think about it, it doesn't make all that much sense. Why a city? Why a place? What about that building or that block or that zipcode evokes a sense of loyalty and passion? Why do I feel uber-protective of the less-than-impressive streets of Washington, DC? Why does Chicago, despite its myriad issues ("myriad" is a word that I use to seem smart...it's working, isn't it?), make me feel proud? I have no idea.

I was born in New York City, so sometimes I feel like I ought to have NYC flowing through my veins, like hemoglobin, or white blood cells, or heroin. My dad still sings the praises of that city, despite the fact that he hasn't lived there for over 18 years. It's a city that's been glorified and idealized in what must be at least every other movie or television show that has ever been produced. So why does it seem so...gross to me?

About half of my group of friends from DC go to school in NYC. When I do the math...yep. Six. SIX PEOPLE. Out of a group of...twelve? Fourteen? Ah, who gives a shit. MY POINT IS: a ton of my friends go to school in New York. And they looooove it. Seriously, these guys are all up in New York's business. If there was a party in New York's pants, most of these people would go, invite or no.

It's just...not appealing. To me, at least (and this is my blog--I think we all know whose opinion matters here). I know that saying anything bad about NYC will probably bring the wrath of billions of hipsters down on me in a sort of effeminate, plaid-wearing vortex of indie rage. I'm willing to risk it (I can take those plaid bastards). So I'm going to cut any sort of bullshit now and say what I've kept bottled up inside of me for so long.

New York sucks.

And yet--the party in the pants. The songs, the movies, the plays, the TV. God, it makes me want to rip my hair out and do a sort of spasming, Ellen Degeneres-worthy dance and scream "GET THE FUCK OVER YOURSELF. IT'S NOT ALL THAT GREAT."

If you live in New York, don't get all complacent and smug. "Ooh, I'm so artsy, I'm supporting my creative impulses by living in a shitty apartment and being all NEW YORK. And it's awesome and legit because it's New York. And I'm going to shit on your cities, your towns, any you may value, because it isn't the bright, sparkling, neon, guiding, transcending, scintillating lights of NEW YORK CITY."

I have a lot of anger. You can probably tell. I just hate people telling me to feel bad about a place I love. And I realize that I take up that I am hypocritical myself--I'll mock the shit out of Hillary because of Maine (but I mean...Maine...). But not in any sort of seriousness!

God damn it, people, be proud of where you're from! Or, if you can't manage that, LET OTHER PEOPLE BE PROUD OF WHERE THEY'RE FROM. I might not be an urbane, suave sophisticate living with my fellow artistes in a cardboard box on 5th Avenue, but I'm doing what I love, where I love it.

Give me a fucking break.

I need some Robert to calm me down after all of that.

Stare into his eyes, Caitlin.

Chocolate pools of soul.

Self-deprecating sense of humor.

[Sigh]

(How great was his Golden Globes speech, by the way? SO GREAT. He should win an Oscar for "Best Ever." Of course, he'd have to go head-to-head for it with Helen Mirren, but I think he'd be able to take her.)