New York, New York

Not to be disloyal to Canadian publications, but there is something about the weekend and the New York Times that draws me in - catching up on the sad state of American health care and browsing through the commentary in the Sunday Review have become a bit of a tradition. But to be brutally honest, it is the real estate section and another entitled "Weddings and Celebrations" that I scour without fail. One can't help but look smugly at the prohibitively high prices New Yorkers will pay for 400 square feet overlooking a brick wall - not to mention the monthly maintenance fees which are invariably higher than my mortgage payment. But it is a window into a city I have never stepped foot in - except in my imagination - and at this point, I likely never will. There is a section called 'The Hunt' where we follow New Yorker's journeys to home ownership (if one considers 400 square feet a home), the near misses and the victory of finding a box in the sky to rest your weary bones. Then there is the wedding section where every week some son or daughter of the privileged will be profiled on their way to the altar after a trying yet inspiring courtship. Ducklings to swans - gliding toward a shiny, limitless future. One million stories in the naked city and sometimes all I want is the endless slide show of faces that are not my own with futures I can only dream of.