I’ve lived in this city for 9 1/2 years yet I’ve always insisted on calling myself a Philly girl. And I am. However, over the past three days the acts of strength I’ve seen, the unwillingness to complain, the compassion in the face of obscenely sad photos, the compulsion to help out, the tenacity, the runners in the park (!!!), even Bloomberg’s insane Spanish, has given me this overwhelming feeling of bratty fortitude that makes me certain that when these lights come back on, they will be brighter than they were before. Holy crap, I realized, I think that’s called being a New Yorker.