For my first blog, I felt it only appropriate to write it in the wee hours of New York time. After a long weekend of much needed beauty rest, I am back to reality, back to work, starting summer off with this new blog. Because of the cultural diversity and the conglomeration of unexpected goodness experienced in New York City, I felt inspired to give a taste of the apple to you all; that's what this blog is all about. The unexpected good, the nasty ugly, and the down-right nutty things that you see in New York. I hope you enjoy this journey as much as I enjoy telling it.
I can't believe it, but it's been nearly 10 months since I moved to this liberating metropolis. I'm practically a seasoned New Yorker now, although I have yet to give a cab driver the bird. Does yelling at one until I'm blue in the face count?
When I moved here, I thought I knew myself. Turns out, New York knew me better than I knew myself, and ever since my one-way ticket brought me here, NY has consistently brought out the true me. In these 10 months, I've experienced every range of emotion, from love to apathy, and sometimes all in the span of a day. The following is a typical-day example:
I'll walk outside my pre-war building to a side-walk filled with surprisingly happy people and good energy, like people actually goofily smiling while walking!, and all I can do is smile back and think, "God I love New York!" Then, ten minutes later, I find myself still waiting for a train; then 15 minutes passes by and I grow increasingly impatient because now my commute is delayed. I then begin to pace back and forth with an occasional huff and puff (just like every other annoyed new yorker). When I catch myself being defeated by the New York minute, I calm myself down and remind myself that this is out of my control. I snap back into a good mood again because I like the next song on my ipod and decide to open my book and practice patience. Then, the train arrives. People are packed in the dirty cart like wal-mart was with the Y2K scare. I manage to squeeze myself into a non-existing space and keep to myself. Over my music, I can hear a homeless person shaking a change jar begging for money. I look at my clock and think, "It's 7am. Isn't it too early to beg?" I can't help but think begging should be illegal; couldn't they at least try and sing a song or DO something to earn a dollar. I have to earn my dollar, why don't they? I fork over a buck or two to the people who at least try to entertain, and occassionally I'll give the homeless man on the corner of the Wendy's by my house a few bucks just because, and even he's trying to earn it; he's at least opening the door and greeting guests. I feel bad for thinking homelessness should be illegal and pray for forgiveness and empathy. Already, within a 30 minute period, I've experienced a range of emotions, and the day has barely begun! Needless to say, this kind of emotional rollercoaster can be exhausting, and if you were any where else in the world, you would FEEL exhasted. But, because you're in New York, you move on. The energy here keeps you moving, but you also have to give that good energy back, or this place will suck you dry with karma. It always makes me feel good when people tell me to "keep giving my kind of energy to New York; it's what makes it New York New York." Makes me feel like I've found home. I'm always surprised and caught off gaurd by these comments; I give them a gentle thank-you and move about my day, pleasantly surprised at the good people you randomly run into here.
As I get off the train and walk into work, I always remind myself, "Smile girl! Just smile!" No matter where you are in the world, a wink, a smile, and a pleasant greeting go a long ways.
~Thanks for following, and I hope you have a great day!
