Apples and Oranges

Dr. Suess got it right, "oh the places you'll go".

It seems now more than ever I get asked the same question (or variation of) over phone conversations, dinners, and awkward first encounters, "So, what do you like better, Boston or New York?"

Over the past couple of months my politically correct answer has been, "Well, I'm not sure, as comparing the two cities is like comparing apples to oranges." The response, depending on which side the person I'm corresponding with favors more, is typically, "Oh well there's no comparison! [Insert Biased Opinion City Here] is by FARRR superior to [Insert "Less Important" City Here]."

Well, after much careful thought and consideration (and the dismay of many close friends), I have come to figure out that truly, I am a Boston bred girl at heart.

Yes, I am aware that I grew up in the shadows of what I will always call, "The City". That's what happens when your teenage years are spent in the Garden State, and adventures in New York are a short train ride away. I have close ties with the Big Apple, but in comparison to Boston, New York will always remain similar to someone I'm dating. As with everyone else living within the confines of Manhattan, I have a love/hate relationship which may sometimes classify as bi-polar. I get upset with the large crowds of tourists who stand still with their necks craned upwards all throughout Midtown during the commuting hours. Please, I beg of you, do not take pictures of another skyscraper while I am late to an appointment or am starving and need to get back to my apartment to make food. Speaking of, I'm not a huge fan of $7 boxes of Honey Bunches of Oats or $17 cosmopolitans.

I feel like this is a catch-22 though, as the nightlife in New York is unparalleled. There is always something to do, for everyone's price range. That being said, the city also is a vortex for temptation. In order to survive, one needs a good head on their shoulders or else it is very easy to get swept up in the hectic environment. I've found a good way to clear my mind is a run in Central Park or along the Hudson, coupled with a walk throughout the West Village. These are the tiny pockets in a big city that allow me to find some solitude and a moment to hear myself think.

However, I like to think alot, and the skyscrapers don't help. I'm blessed to live in a neighborhood that borders the end of Midtown and the beginning of the Upper East Side. But I need air. After a self-analysis this past weekend, I realized I need air because of my childhood. Summers on the Vineyard gave me an appreciation for open land and endless visions of water.

I'm a Red Sox fan; always have been, always will be. I proudly wear my Lester jersey in Yankee Stadium and am ready to tackle whatever explative or cup of beer comes in my direction. I like being able to walk wherever I need to be in 20 minutes. The feeling of the Charles come up on my face during a hard run along the Mass Ave bridge makes me feel alive in a way that Central Park can't ever compare to. I like that I can walk into almost any restaurant in the South End and know the owner. With the Vineyard being about an hour or so away, it's relaxing to have an escape route back to family.

The other day I got asked directions and restaurant recommendations for Boston. To my surprise, I knew every street name, the driving direction, and nearby restaurant. That's when it clicked. Even though you really can't compare the two, and I'm happy in either location, one thing will always ring true.

In the words of The Standells, "Oh Boston you're my home."