Dear New York,
Maybe me bashing the pizza here wasn't the smartest thing. I'm willing to give it another chance. Sure OK, I groan a lot about missing Maine and wanting to go home, but listen Empire State, maybe if you gave me a chance, I'd hush up. Heck, I might even grow a little fond of you.
You and I, we have really gotten off on the wrong foot, haven't we? It could have a little to do with the fact that when I first found myself living here, things were pretty much frozen...the lake, the ground, the people...You get where I'm going with this. I assumed that perhaps because we lived on a fairly large lake and it was a very seasonal area, that once the spring thaw hit, that maybe the people around here would defrost too. I even had images of hosting fantabulous cocktail parties and BBQ's on that massive deck of ours that looks out over Lake Saratoga. Sadly, all I've hosted is hordes of mayflies that seem fit to alight on every freaking surface. But let's nevermind that. What's a few trillion smelly, pesky, invasive mayflies when a burgeoning relationship is at stake?
Why so aloof and cool? Are you playing hard to get? I was never very good at that back in my dating days, and I'm a fat girl, so therefore I don't give chase very easily. Maybe you could meet me halfway, say, over a bagel? I'm willing to give a little if you are. Heck, I might even be willing to come down and take a bite out of the big apple if that would make you happy. I'm completely willing to give this relationship another chance. I just need to know that you're in this too! Maybe the occasional smile, a wave, or a friendly "Hello!" said in my general direction would go a long way toward smoothing things out. Just a few suggestions.
I know sometimes I slam you because there are days when I feel like there are never enough middle fingers when dealing with my fellow drivers. I'll try harder not to scream remarks about the potential for New Yorkers to become better drivers if they would just get off their cell phones and shove them into certain bodily orifices. I will really make a concerted effort to wave with my entire hand and not just one finger, when those drivers pass by me, cell phone glued to their ears, driving 35 miles over the posted speed limit. For all I know, any one of those drivers could be a neurosurgeon on his way to the hospital to scrub in on a life-saving procedure.
Maybe if you thought of me like the lonely kid at fat camp, the one who hasn't gotten to know anyone yet because she's not really sure if she fits in and so she maybe has a bad attitude about the whole experience? Perhaps you could sort of be like that hunky camp counselor who takes pity on the new fat girl and comes over and offers to show her where the canoes are, and how cool the air hockey table is?
I want you to know that I am totally on-board, willing to wipe the slate clean (does anyone know of a good dead-mayflie-remover- because I'm having a hard time cleaning the slate of those nasty, smelly little buggers!), and compromise. I want this relationship to work. I'll even go one better! I'll watch a Yankees game on TV...and I won't yell nasty things about how the Red Sox will kick your butts! I'll even eat a slice of genuine New York pizza while doing it! See? I am willing to give a little.
So, what do ya say? Do you...Could you...would you, like me?
Check yes or no.
