09 Jan 2010

R: Lately I've been lusting after creativity of any sort: art, literature, film, music, basically anything I can fill my time with. Not sure where the sudden urge is coming from, but all I know is I need something. Inspiration, motivation, a good laugh, a good cry, a new idea.

My need has driven me to stalk around Union Square on the Barnes and Noble and Strand circuit. I prefer Strand because it's cheaper and attracts less cell-phone gabbers and bathroom hunters. Unfortunately, it is also popular among tourists and too-cool hipsters, and when you throw in the miles and miles of book there's not a whole lot of walking room. Plus everytime I look for a certain book it always seems to be on the highest shelf - just cruel, I tell you. During my last visit, after wandering around the same three aisles looking up mournfully, trying to locate my favorite authors while avoiding getting cornered by the hoards of people, I finally found a place where I could get above it all.

C: I generally avoid places where there are sure to be tourists, but in a city known for its historical significance and where the majority of the population exists transiently, this is nearly impossible. We figured that most visitors were gone by now, so we ventured out to Faneuil Hall, hoping to catch some good sales at the closing Crate & Barrel. Whenever I go there, memories of the final days of society initiation come flooding back: the less-than-flattering costumes, the hopeless scavenger hunt, the bitter cold and general exhaustion. Today's experience did not improve my feelings toward the area. Despite the below freezing temperatures, the mob persisted, the Southie accents irritated me, and the both the trip to C&B and subsequent search for non-Starbucks hot apple cider were disappointing; two hours later proved to be two hours too many.

I don't mind being a tourist in my own city, but I prefer to do so when there are no actual out-of-towners around. I suppose this is somewhat ironic, considering that almost 24 years ago, our family came here as aliens and surely were immediately identifiable as such, in our tiny hometown. Growing up our family vacations mostly consisted of driving to nearby tourist traps - the Roanoke Star, the Transportation Museum, Natural Bridge and Mabry Mill. Perhaps being a tourist is in my blood afterall...