Category Archives: life in nyc

falling in love with new york again

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In any relationship, there are ebbs and flows, highs and lows; at least in my world. It’s true for my relationships with people and it’s true for my relationships with places. And as I’ve mentioned before, it’s especially true for New York.

Last weekend, I was in South Bend, Indian visiting Justin and Cherity and my darling niece and nephew (seriously, I’ve missed them so much). While I was there, enjoying the vast amounts of space and the benefits of a car, etc, I wondered what the hell I’m doing living in New York City. And, to be completely honest, I was not very excited to come back Sunday night. 
And, as always happens, when I got back to the city I remembered why it is such a fun place to live. And then, on Tuesday, I bought a bicycle. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and just had to save up enough money to get it. I didn’t get to ride it until Thursday, due to weather, but when I did…it was like a whole new world opened to me. Not only that, but I felt like I was 10 again, riding around without a care in the world. It was amazing (and slightly terrifying since you have to ride on the streets here).

Please appreciate that this is where I have to park my bike in my apartment…at the end of the hall by the front door with the wheel turned so I can exit and enter my apartment. Until you’ve lived here (or visited someone who does), you just can’t understand the lack of space. It’s awesome.
And then on Friday night, I rode my bike all the way down to Battery Park along the Hudson (it’s about a six mile ride down) right at sunset. And just like that, I didn’t just like living here, I was in love with this city all over again. Yes, there are sacrifices I make to live here…like being far away from my family and living in a shoebox that is double what my mortgage payment was in Arizona. It is crowded and expensive and dirty and stressful, but there is also no other place in the world like it. Central Park, and the rivers, and the subway, and the museums, and all of the restaurants, and my friends. I won’t stay her forever, but I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.

a year later…

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As I get ready to finish my last week in my current rotation, I can’t help but think about what an incredible year this has been. There are a lot of things I could talk about (and at some point likely will because I have learned so much this year), but as I said goodbye to Maria tonight (she’s leaving for P-town to start law school), I can’t help but think about just how amazing it is that one year after moving here I have such an incredible group of girlfriends.

In fact, just tonight, I was reminded again of when I met some of them last year during a weekend in Rhode Island (some I knew before that trip, but have gotten to know much better since). I had no idea at the time that these girls would become some of my closest friends here in the city.

Reflecting on that, I can’t help but think about just how blessed I have been my entire life in the friend department. Following my “common denominator” logic, I would like to believe that I have been a good friend and, therefore, have been able to have good friends. But I know that there have been times when such has not been the case, and yet I have still been blessed. I don’t know how I would be where I am today without the friendships that I’ve had and continue to have (including my family, as I consider them my best friends).

I’m so glad that when I interned here two years ago, I ended up living where I lived because it was in the same building as Sara and Alisa and, as a result of those friendships, I now have the loveliest little group of friends I could have hoped for. And while some of them are moving on, I am so grateful for them all.

And with the next Rhode Island trip just around the corner, I can’t wait to see what the year ahead holds and the fun adventures we will go on. And I promise to start blogging more about those adventures and less about my whiney pants pity parties.

and just like clockwork

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The valley that I was writing about in my last post swiftly became a peak and I had a fantastic weekend.

My intention in this post was to write about my weekend, but as I wrote that first sentence, I pictured a road with hills and valleys. And I was imagining running on that hill. And it just occurred to me (I’m sure this is obvious to so many of you…I just happen to be a little slow sometimes) what a beautiful metaphor hills and valleys are. It’s not just about the high point and the low point. It’s also about what it takes to get to the high point and how easy it is to coast into the low point.

I was talking to a friend yesterday about how I feel like my life in New York has these amazing highs (like this weekend with the Met and the beach and movies and Donut Plant), but it also has these incredibly deep lows and so it feels like I’m unhappy a lot…but then I also have so many moments when I want to pinch myself just to make sure I’m awake because my life is so dreamy. People say when you move to New York it takes years off of your life. I think that might be true.

Back to the metaphor. I’ve been really frustrated by this whole roller coaster that is my life right now. I feel a little bit manic, to be totally honest. I feel like every five minutes I’m saying to someone something along the lines of, “Wow, I’m glad that’s over,” or, “Wow, how did I get here again?” It’s exhausting.

So here’s what I think I was missing that I just picked up on right now. It takes work to have those highs (or it should), but lately I feel like it’s the momentum that’s keeping me going. It’s the drop from the high that pushes me on to the next one. If I’m really going to take the time to get through the crap and understand what’s really behind it all, I might have to spend a little more time in the valley and then actually have to work my way to the next peak. And maybe that’s not even possible to do in New York because life moves so fast. But maybe it is.

In any case, it’s always to think rationally about these things when I’m happy as can be…we’ll see how I feel about it all the next time I hit a low point. I’m nothing if not realistic–or maybe that’s cynicism. (Such a fine line between the two…)

I don’t know if this is making sense to anyone but me…but is making sense to me. And as I always say, I started this blog to find myself and this is part of me.

And now, because I’ve been loving my recent music discoveries…another new song. (Well, new to me.)

freeze and explode

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When I went to Arizona, my sister and brother-in-law introduced me to Chuck. In a matter of three weeks I have watched three seasons (just finished the third one tonight). I’m a little obsessed. It satisfies all of my TV watching needs (funny, suspenseful, romantic) and it has fantastic music. Which brings me to the title of this post. I’m a little obsessed with this song by Cassettes Won’t Listen.

Beside the fact that I loved whatever episode of Chuck during which it played and whatever was happening at that moment (how I love Shazam!), the lyrics and melody just kind of capture how I’ve been feeling since I left Arizona (and my family).

Life moves so fast. Especially when you’re not around the people you love. Especially in a city of 8,000,000 strangers. And I feel a little lost. And a little homesick…although I’m not sure where I would even call home.

Until you’ve lived in a city of 8,000,000 people, I don’t think that you can understand just how lonely being alone can feel.

So, yes, I live in a great place and I have a great job (although that has its days, too). I go running in Central Park. I play soccer on a field that overlooks the Manhattan skyline, and I make plans to pop into the Met to see the Alexander McQueen Exhibition, not because I’m dying to, but because I can. And to the outside view, it’s all very glamorous. And it can be. But sometimes it’s just me, sitting on my couch, watching episodes of Chuck, missing my family, and wondering what I was thinking when I decided to move so far away.

And tomorrow (or next week, or sometime in the near future), I will wake up, and I will go outside, and it will be one of those perfect New York days when I can’t imagine living anywhere else, and all will be well in the universe again and I will blog about how thrilled I am with my soccer team, or how nice it is to be able to ride the train right to beach, or how my job has provided me with summer Fridays so I can take advantage of the amazingness (not a word…deal with it) that is New York City in the summer time, or any number of other incredible things I love about living here.

But tonight, I’m just going to let myself have a moment–a moment which may involve one more episode of Chuck (season 4?) and some Phish Food.

an adventure in the catskills

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Yesterday, my friend Michelle and I decided to get out of the city for a little adventure in nature. Michelle decided we should hike Wittenberg Mountain. In her Catskill Mountains guide book the hike was rated as difficult. We joked about how a difficult rating for the Catskill Mountains would probably be like a moderate hike in the Rockies. As we set out, I was thinking that maybe the people that rated the hike had actually done some hiking outside of the Catskills and knew what they were talking about.

About 30 minutes in, we discovered we were on the wrong trail. We decided that we would head back down and get on the right trail since that was the hike we had planned to do. In the process of figuring out where we were and where we should have been, it was also discovered that the trail we were on was rated as moderate…this made me a little nervous as I was wearing running shoes and felt ill-equipped (both in actually equipment and physical shape) to hike 3.9 miles up on a trail rated difficult. But I just smiled and followed Michelle down to the right trail head.

What the guide did not share with us was that we would actually be doing a little rock climbing. And the rock climbing is after you’ve already hiked uphill for about 3 miles, so you are tired, but too far up to throw in the towel. And you think after the first wall that that has to be it, but you would be mistaken. Three walls later (the book refers to these as “scrambles”…I think because if you were to fall, you would become scrambled like an egg), we finally were on normal hills again. And then we reached the top. And it was TOTALLY worth it.

This was the first of the “scrambles”…not sure the picture does it justice, but it was serious.
I wish this picture did justice to just what an amazing view this is…I also wish I could have capture the lightening storm we could see in the distance. But, unless you hike this yourself, you’re just going to have to take my word for it. AMAZING!

Of course, the hike back down was hard, as well, but a different kind of hard. Besides just being a killer on the joints, I managed to twist my ankle and trip multiple times (running shoes and serious hiking do not mix) one time almost ended with me falling face first into a rocky stream…except for a lovely tree that broke my fall. It really was quite the adventure and one I would actually repeat.

Once we got down, we decided to stop in the little town nearby and get dinner…which was also an awesome experience. Sadly I did not get any pictures of the multiple tie-dyed outfits I saw (Phoenicia, where we had dinner, is about 13 miles from Woodstock), but trut me when I say it was impressive. Talk about a perfectly spent Saturday. I couldn’t have asked for better.