The images from New York City are crazy. I’m so happy that my friends, coworkers (current and former), and old roommates are all alright.
It’s funny, I have this very weird feeling of guilt about the whole thing. Like, I should’ve been there? Like I wish I could help more than just donating money to the Red Cross. It feels like when you miss a significant life event of someone that you really care about. You want to be apart of the clean-up, the action. The resilience and compassion of New Yorkers in times like this is so unparalleled. It’s astounding. Like those NYU nurses, walking down all those babies from the NICU to ensure they stay alive after the backup generators failed. People using Twitter not to tell horror stories, but to volunteer themselves, to make sure that people are safe, sheltered, and cared for in a time when it would be really easy to just stay inside your apartment and ignore the world. It’s the thing that makes a city of 8.2 million people feel like 8.
I’m glad that things can be rebuilt, that water can be removed from subway tracks, and that electricity can be reactivated. Los Angeles might own my soul right now, but New York will always have my heart (sorry, Connecticut. I know I was born in you, but I’m in it deep with New York. Always have been, always will be).