The Tourist

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      For my birthday weekend, I traveled into the fabulous city of New York. The land of "Friends" and "Sex and the City." The Concrete Jungle that Alicia Keys and Jay-Z sing of. The place where Audrey had her breakfast at Tiffany's. I could go on and on and on, but there is just *too* much that New York is credited for. My dear friend came up from Raleigh, and together, we roamed the streets of one of the largest and most powerful cities in the world. And let me just tell you all, it was perfection.

      Now, I am not going to tell you all about my trip because typed words cannot begin to express the magic we experienced during out 2.5 days there. So, instead, I'll tell you all about how I felt being a "tourist" in New York City.

      So here's the thing--- I live just an hours train ride away from Penn Station, NY. That's it. Just an hour. During our visit, we didn't stay in some hotel, but rather, the apartment of my friend's cousin. We neither wore tennis shoes nor carried around extravagant folded maps of the city. We even took the plunge and rode the Subway everywhere like "normal" people. And yet... we were still tourists. We didn't belong. Neither of us live there, work there, or travel into the city on a regular basis. Sure, we had both been there before and seen the sights, but it's not like we were pros. I found myself wishing otherwise.

      I am one of those travelers who likes to try and blend in/pretend I belong/I don't want to be groupied with the really obnoxious tourists who stand and take a million pictures that you just happen to walk thru because you have a real life. Even when I traveled to Israel in 2009, I didn't want to stand out with my pale PALE skin and my ever-so American accent. In New York, I found myself wanting to be mistaken for a New Yorker.

      But there are moments when one cannot help BUT be a tourist. For example--- I took a lot of skyline pictures. I took a picture of the building corner of the TV show "Friends" in Greenwich Village. And best of all, I had my friend take a picture of me drinking a birthday brunch mimosa at Café Lalo. Now, I haven't made a good "You've Got Mail" reference lately, but this was the epitome of them all. Café Lalo is where Meg Ryan anxiously awaits her anonymous email-lover Tom Hanks. She sits and waits for him with Pride and Prejudice and a red rose. He brings along his friend to check out his hot date first. And alas, they meet (though she doesn't even know!) and Café Lalo was seated in the halls of cinematic restaurants for forever. Or at least to me. It was the one place I was sure I wanted to go to the whole weekend and it was so wonderful that I just had to take pictures. And even though I wanted the other diners there to think I was just one of them on the Upper West Side enjoying brunch, I set my shame aside for some #selfies. I was a goofy 22 year old tourist who loves "You've Got Mail" probably more than most.

      Now it may seem silly to some of you that I hate being a "tourist," but maybe you can understand. I mean there are so many great movies and TV shows where the characters just seem to become one with the land/people in which they are visiting. And though New York isn't a foreign country, it may as well be to some people. But hey, the best part was when some random lady on the streets asked *US* for directions. I guess we blended in better than I hoped.

                                                                     Sincerely,

                                                                                Me

P.S. I really wish I was a fancy blogger who knew how to do cooler things with my pictures other than COPY and PASTE. Oh well.