What do you want me to tell you about New York?
I think it’s funny when I tell my friends from the past that I live in New York and they immediately think “Sex and the City.” At first it was mostly because of me being single and telling stories, now it’s mostly the blog and my adventures.
First off wrong demographic, I have never seen a full episode (there’s no Caribbean girl in the main cast of characters though). They also tend to forget that New York City comprises of 5 boroughs and I live in Brooklyn. I love Brooklyn, well the idea of Brooklyn — I’m still deciding whether or not I fit in.
My life is probably much more calm.
When I first started this blog, my assumptions was:
I’d go out and write reviews based on my life here focused on design of life since you can design anything (including your habits). I would visit museums, restaurants, little stores, and write about deals, what I wear etc (so much for that).
This blog really has no definition besides design of life a la Jerlyn and you’re watching me grow — and my peers grow. Good job — sometimes your feedback is necessary. I do have the occasional latte and I’m a Guiness-kinda-gal but there’s no way that I can afford Carrie’s shoes. More and more I notice the hustling of my peers and how much we have little in common. My life is forever changing. My group of friends are forever changing — like underwear. I’m originally a Caribbean girl and daily, I feel myself struggling to fit in. Maybe it’s ok to not fit? When was is a terrible idea to be original?
Anyway, back to New York — the city that never sleeps, the drunken women wearing heels stumbling in the streets after hours and the occasional body caught on the subway rails — nothing in life is ever completely pleasant.
This city has millions of people and we pay a significant amount in rent to live in cupboards. I overhear patrons complain. Everyone has their own agenda (specifically for you). We complain about rising prices with the monopolized subway system, everyone’s angry daily (hardly anyone smiles on the subway), people have stank attitudes… Why do people live here again? Oh, and I don’t need to own a car: win.
There’s nothing like it. There’s no place like it. I remember comparing New York to Paris once — not the same (I can get crepes with nutella here and it’s absolutely delicious by the way… Can’t find the Louvre here though but there are countless museums). As I look at my $500 monthly health care bill, my $149 unlimited metro card and my student loans that I will be paying for the rest of my life, I’m ok. I like NY. In fact, I love New York. I love taking visits abroad, especially during the winter where I take a cab back to my flat and I see the bridges and lights ( I love coming back at night). Or a night out with unavoidable inebriation and I look out the window and see how the river separates each borough and I noticed that I’ve always lived on an island.
New York, I love you. I made many memories here… Let me know when you’re tired of me. I doubt I’ll ever get tired of you. If I leave, and I’m sure that I will — whether next week, a few months or years, I will always consider you my home.