I love spending time in a quiet, peaceful place like the sleepy town of Rockport, Maine because it makes me realize the insane pace of my life in New York. Everyone here is friendly, warm, and they all wake up and get going at 6am- it's confusing for a New Yorker. I opened the door in the coffeeshop down the street and people dove out of the way like I was robbing the place because of my hustle.
I think I'd be an alcoholic in no time if I spent any extended time up here because there just isn't enough to do for me to survive. The place is beautiful and quaint but I need five computers going and I always find myself driving down the one lane roads going 70 blasting music. Last night I went out at 10pm and everything was closed- everything. I never appriciate how truely great Manhattan is until I leave- in the rest of the country things actually close- it's remarkable. The only thing open was a little local bar so I stopped in to have a few drinks and suck terribly at every bar game they had for a few hours. Madness.