How to Sort of Enjoy Living in a City

        There are several reasons why I never imagined I'd end up spending a month in New York City, and first among them is the fact that I hate cities. It is a long-held hatred. One of my earliest memories is of freaking out during my first ride on the Boston T. I turned down a spot on the Barnard archery team (and in the school too, I guess) because I didn't want to spend four years in a city. Those places are bad news. It's not that I dislike cities as a concept. They make sense in the same way that litter boxes make sense, in that it's better to clump all the people together in designated spots than to spread them across the landscape. But the fact is that cities are primarily composed of three ingredients: strong smells, loud noises, and crowds of strangers, and I just so happen to have an acute sense of smell, sensitive ears, and an innate distrust of the human race. Cities are the grungy embodiment of most of what makes me uncomfortable in this world.
         But amazingly, in the small moments when I am not plugging my ears, asphyxiating, or preparing to fight off muggers, I've actually found myself sort of enjoying being in the city. There's no logical explanation for these moments. I'll be walking down the street and suddenly find myself feeling cheerful. I straighten up, add some confidence to my stride, maybe even smile a little, and then have to remind myself to dodge the oncoming taxis. Sometimes it's just a little reminder that wow, I'm in New York City. Like most Americans, I've spent most of my life hearing stories about the miracles, monsters, and giant peaches that infest New York City. It has its own mythos, its own magical aura, and just the thought that I'm in a place that has been the setting for so many stories is really, really thrilling. I've already had friends ask me if I've seen Spider-Man (not yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time).
         And then sometimes you get days like today, when for various reasons, the city suddenly seems friendlier than a city has any right to be. The sun was bright, the weather was comfortably warm, and there was a crowd of smiling Salvation Army people handing out doughnuts in front of my workplace this morning. Some guy with a megaphone announced to the world that it was National Doughnut Day, and I decided to just take his word for it, since I'd like to think that such a holiday exists. I didn't take a doughnut, however. I don't take free food from smiling people on the street. But I still enjoyed the thought. There was something comforting about the idea of pastries being handed out to the masses. When I left my internship at the end of the day the sun was still shining, but the doughnuts had disappeared, and had been replaced by some kind of barbecue festival. Crowds of people moved among clumps of white tents, and for once the air actually smelled okay. All of the restaurants had their doors open, and as I walked down the street, people just seemed happier than usual. I guess food will do that. I decided to take the time to walk down past Union Square, which is home to both a bookstore and a comic book store. That alone would have cheered me up, but there was more to it than that. It was like the city was in a good mood. And so, despite the crowds of people, and the general city-ness of it all, I found myself in a good mood too.