The City that Never Sleeps

New York City turned me into the Taylor that never sleeps. And the Taylor that never sleeps is not a pleasant person to be around (Megan and Hannah are angels for putting up with me). I probably got a grand total of 12 hours of sleep from Wednesday night to Saturday morning. When we boarded the plane from Newark to O'hare Saturday morning at 6:45 AM I vaguely remember taking off, jabbing that seat-back button as soon as I was allowed to do so, and drifting off until I was jarred awake by our landing in Chicago. It was a much needed nap, since I was getting to that point of dizziness in my lack of sleep and I needed to be a alert to navigate the three hour layover at O'hare.

Believe me, I had an unbelievable time. New York is a true treasure. But it's a treasure that comes at a cost of high stress and exertion. Walking all day long (if I hadn't counteracted all that exercise with endless slices of pizza I could likely fit into my old jeans by now--but I'm not worried, cuz I got new jeans!), traversing the depths of the city via subways and the metro, clutching shopping bags and personal belongings, it catches up with you.

New York also strips away optimism in humanity. I like to believe that most people are truly nice and that they mean well always. But I couldn't afford to think like that in Manhattan, Harlem, or the Bronx. We had to teach Megan to not talk to strangers; she is more accustomed to the Southern friendliness of Oklahoma and Arkansas.

Speaking of not nice people, the kid sitting next to me on the flight from O'hare to Will Rogers, was a prime example. I was lucky enough to get placed in an emergency exit (I am happy to save lives in exchange for more legroom) but the pre-workout biggest loser contestant next to me needed a shower and effectively hijacked the armrest within 3 minutes of boarding. That's okay sir, I love sleeping scrunched up with my elbows tucked up in my armpits. Oh, you wanted to stretch out diagonally, cutting into my extra leg room? Please, go right ahead. Needless to say, I was infinitely relieved when our plane landed in Oklahoma City.

I loved seeing Hannah, I loved creeping on Nick Jonas, and I loved just being in New York City. One of my favorite parts of the trip was merely sitting in Central Park, licking Popsicles. It was casual and relaxing and I couldn't ask for anything more. Except maybe to live in the Plaza with Eloise. I'm certain I was made for that abode.

At home in Oklahoma City, across the country in NYC, or studying in Norman one thing never changes; I'm A Very Lucky Girl.


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