i <3 new york

& i'm not leaving

it came to my attention that some readers misinterpreted my dear angel cake from this week to mean that I wanted to leave new york. to set the record straight, i love new york and unfortunately have made it a part of my personality so i am here to defend my honor and let it be known that i will have to be dragged out of this magical, sweaty, sticky, perfect city kicking and screaming. this past weekend i was at the jersey shore with a few of my best friends and have been too busy reading and laughing and swimming and listening to everything is romantic by charli xcx and tanning and eating angelina’s homemade blueberry cobbler and saying, “i love you guyyyyyyysssssssssss” every few hours to write something new. i think my brain is still too salty anyway. i wrote this piece a looooooong time ago and still come back to it from time to time. enjoy!

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the other weekend i was catching up with a friend from home and she asked if i ever felt overwhelmed by so many things happening in new york at the same time, “ i could neverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr live in the city, i don’t understand how you do it”. i heard myself thoughtlessly respond out of slight annoyance, “i think i’ve just gotten used to it.. it feels normal i guess. i don’t really notice it.”

this morning i took a rainy stroll to get a latte and cardamon bun from la cabra, two men were playing chess at the table next to me occasionally exchanging endearing profanities at each other. i walked through washington square park feeling embraced by the weird, special kinetic energy that only exists there. i stopped in mcnally jackson for a few new books and chatted with the cashier who had six (!!!) snoopy tattoos (beats my 1). i strolled through soho through a maze of new fall fashion campaigns plastered on construction walls and appreciated the new york’s determination to convert the ugly into something beautifully creative. i stopped a store we opened at work and smiled as i saw two girls peering through the window pointing at product i had a small part in creating. i passed the angelika where a couple had just come into the light after seeing a film blinking hard to adjust. wandered through elizabeth street garden which was damp in a romantic kind of way. strolled through little italy where people were eating spaghetti and drinking red wine outside in spite of the 80-degree drizzly oppressive weather. i stopped in iconic magazines and read september issue letters from the editor (my favorite part of a magazine) and browsed next to tourists in i <3 ny rain ponchos. on houston an old crush waved at me from across the street and i thought about how people who once held so much weight in my life can slowly sink into nothingness on a street corner that never changes. back in the east village, i bought flowers from my bodega as one of the owners asked if i had found a boyfriend yet to buy me flowers, before i could respond the cashier responded “she’s independenttttttttt she doesn’t need a boyfriend” i grinned and exclaimed “YEAH!” as i paid for my flowers and oat milk before returning to my apartment which was once a sterile listing on streeteasy and is now a glowing emblem of my independent existence.

they say the longer you live in new york the more jaded you become. i have started to feel my earnestness slowly start to slip away like an ice cream cone dripping in the summer, only to notice the melty consistency once it’s too late; it’s reached contact with your hand with no napkin to rescue. i’ve found that a lot of what i end up writing about centers around a feeling of defensiveness towards my earnest nature. it must be because i feel the pressures of a cool cynicism poking at that silly optimistic exoskeleton. i guess my writing is my way to stubbornly claw my way through the noise and ensure that i never “get used to it”.

i appreciate you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and new york <3

email angelcake@substack.com with anything you want advice on for this week’s column <3