Same place, only smaller

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I'm obsessed with New York City. I absolutely love the place. I used to think that New York was the "world" that was not Tallahassee. In New York, you can see and do anything. And living in New York represented what my life could have been if I'd chosen a different path. Don't get me wrong, I love my path and I love Tallahassee, but I've lived here basically my entire life and I'm a restless and curious spirit. I want to see more. I need to see different.

So when I went to New York for the first time, I didn't know what to expect, yet I had so many expectations. I expected different.

During my first trip, I was looking around for souvenirs. I didn't want the "standard" souvenir—you know, the Statue of Liberty cigarette lighter or the "I Love NYC" t-shirt-kinds that were everywhere—I wanted something unique. After all, NYC has everything. Why would I want something mass produced and available on every corner?

One day, while walking around the Upper West Side, I happened upon a Goodwill store and went inside. I immediately noticed a pillow on the shelf. I had never seen such a thing! It was hot pink and had a furry (yarn'y) kind of surface. The pillow was perfect for my daughter's room and it was only $2.99! It was kind of big, however, and I wasn't sure how I would fit it into my already full suitcase, but I bought it anyway. To me, this pillow represented the uniqueness of NYC. I could never find such a thing in Tallahassee.

A few weeks after I returned home, I was in a Target store and saw the same exact pillow! My heart sank into my stomache. The pillow wasn't unique at all. It was a product of a CHAIN STORE.

On my second trip to New York, I was even more determined to find something original and I did!—or at least I thought I did. I visited the week before Christmas and there were many bazaar-type craft shows around the city. At one in Bryant Park, I found this totally cool purse. Now, I'm not the type to have more than one purse. I use one purse until it literally falls apart. But this purse was so neat. It was made of recycled paper, but it didn't feel like paper. The man working the booth said his wife made the purses and gave me their business card. I gladly paid $25.00 for it. This purse was my "unique" souvenir. This purse was my "different."

A month after I returned to Tallahassee, I saw the exact same purse in a bead store of all places and, to make matters worse, it was $5.00 cheaper.

I'll eventually find something unique and different to bring home from New York, because New York is different. But having my bubble burst made me realize that New York is not the "world" that Tallahassee isn't—Tallahassee is the world too, only it's smaller.