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Kentucky and New York City are different, and I’m glad.  


I’m in a car and I can place my lidless, ceramic coffee mug in a cup holder next to me. 


Checking in, the attendant asked if I drove all the way from Richmond to Cincinnati this morning.  He probably doesn’t care where I’m from, but he noticed, and he was kind.  


People in Kentucky aren’t kinder. 

There’s more space to breathe, and the air is fresher.  


When the woman at security said “have a great day, Miss Emily,” I felt welcome instead of a burden.


I’m sitting at the gate, surrounded by people over the age of sixty.  I’m not sure if age is relevant, but it’s definitely lending to the slow vibe.  


I love it here, and I know that here should stay.  

New York City would suck if it tried to be Kentucky.  They’re both the best.


Now, I’m up in the air.