Sunday, May 10, 2009

Year One.

I made it. That first year in New York City is officially behind me. One year, two boroughs, two apartments (as of June 1st it will be three). This time last year, I was following behind a big yellow Penske truck in my Ford Explorer, with my cat all drugged up in the back seat and my boyfriend flipping through New York songs on the ipod. I got goosebumps as we crossed over the George Washington Bridge and when we pulled up to our little apartment on 116th Street and Pleasant Avenue, I knew I was home.

Things, of course, changed. I finally found a job (which I have full intention of leaving ASAP),the boyfriend became the ex, I moved to Brooklyn, my oh-so-positive outlook on the world became a little jaded, and then overtime a bit more positive again, I spent my first Christmas ever away from my family, I failed at most every plan I had made, I succeeded at things I never even knew I wanted. I think, perhaps, it was the quintessential first year for a twenty-something in New York.

I think it may be time to move on from this blog. I started it a year ago to chronicle my misadventures in becoming a New Yorker and my new role as a domestic goddess. At times it read like a Park Slope blog (and if you have ever been there you would know exactly what I mean). Overtime, I found my voice as I lost myself in the topsy-turvey universe of a prolonged break-up. I shared my loneliness and anguish on it when I was adjusting to those first few weeks of living in Brooklyn, while the snow piled up outside and the cold cut me through to my bones. I expressed my frustrations, my darkest moment, my fears. And with the support I received from the people that read my posts, I realized that maybe I could make my love of writing into something more.

I feel like I am such a different person now than I was back then. That first night sleeping on the futon with a cool breeze creeping its way through the window and pigeons cooing in their sleep on the roost, I knew I was so ready to begin my life with this person, to start a family, to settle down. Honestly, had he decided to stay with me, I probably would still be in that place. But he left and gave me the opportunity to realize a different reality for myself. I am 23. I am young, smart, pretty (perhaps a little vain), and I live in NYC. The world is at my fingertips. Why wouldn't I take advantage of this moment in my life?

Now, as summer approaches again and my vitamin D levels return to normal, I am finding less reason to use this blog as an outlet. It helped me get through the longest winter of my life. But I am ready to move on. It is time.

I survived year-one. I had some really good times, some really shitty times, I made a few great friends, I saw the Pacific Ocean, I laughed a lot, I cried even more, I stumbled home drunk. I lived. What more could I ask for?

To be evermore cheesy, I'm going to close my last post in a quote. In the words of Matt Berninger from The National: "Now there's no leaving New York."

2 comments:

Carissa Pelleteri said...

glad your "vain" it's a must for new york survival, so some think.

sara said...

i might just be pms-ing. but tears welled up in my eyes as i finished reading. It was the perfect ending to a really great story- i got the same emotion that i get at the end of every truly wonderful book i've read. your an amazing writter, please keep it up, and please continue to share in some way or another. i love you- i'm very proud of you!