“When it's three o'clock in New York, it's still 1938 in London.”

Living in New York City, I find that at the strangest times I feel so lucky to have made it my home. I'm sure other people feel the same sense of happiness about where they chose to live -- particularly people who live in beautiful places. I'm sure people in Colorado walk out of their house and stare up at gorgeous mountains and say, "Man, I love living here." They're right -- but that's obvious. Of course it's great to look at something beautiful and feel lucky.

The other day I was walking out of the subway. I took a really crowded 4 train to Union Square, and while anchovied between 100 other people, tried to climb a very narrow staircase to the daylight. At that moment, I was like "Man, I can't believe I live here!" What's funny is I actually laughed at myself for choosing that exact moment to think about how much I loved New York. If using dirty, overcrowded and abused public transportation makes me feel great, then so be it.

A week later I felt the same sense of luckiness when I was biking up the West Side Highway. Granted, this is "beautiful" in a sense -- at least to New Yorkers. If we see a patch of pavement dedicated to doing activity and not to be used by cars, we consider this our "Rocky Mountain." Regardless, as I shared the path with the other bikers and runners, and inhaled the exhaust from the rush hour traffic, I felt great.

I think that's what makes New York so unique. If anything, it's hard to not have a sense of pride about living in it, regardless about how lucky you feel about taking the subway.