Sweet Tea in NYC

Me + New York = One Year

As of today I have officially lived in New York for one year.  [I have also been shacking up with the Russian for a year today.]

I was under the impression that a lot of people didn't think this whole moving to New York with my boyfriend of only eight months would work out, but I guess that just goes to show that sometimes the most spontaneous, far-fetched plans you make are some of the best.  At least, that's been the rule in my life.  I just... had a feeling that all of this was supposed to be, so there ya go.  Here we are.

[Truthfully, even I wasn't entirely convinced immediately after we'd moved that this was the best course of action.  Ha.  I love proving everyone - even myself - wrong.]

Do I love New York more than anything ever?  Am I ready to trade in my Southern citizenship for that of a New Yorker's?  No and no.  But at the same time, I know this is exactly where I need to be at this time in my life.  And NYC has spurred an incredible renaissance in my creative life.  I am unbelievably grateful for that. 

This city makes me want to pull my hair out, and yet inspires me so much.  Everyday.  Often at the same time. 

But what a charmed life I am leading now.  [Hatred for my job aside, of course.]  How far we've come in this year.  From slumming it next to squatters in a glorified studio on Avenue C, to a bright, beautiful one bedroom in a quaint neighborhood on the Upper West Side, less than a block from Central Park.  [I guess you could say we kind of kicked New York's ass...]

Someday I will tire of my long commute, of the sirens blazing through the city when I'm trying to sleep, of the hustle and bustle; someday I'll trade it all in for a big house with a wraparound porch and easier access to sweet tea, but for now this is perfect.

Happy anniversary New York.  [And Goulah.]

Our New Home

I can't believe this is our last full week in the East Village.  And though I will not be sorry to leave our hole in the wall or Avenue C, for that matter, there are certain things about the East Village I will very much miss.  [The Sunburnt Cow, the yummy Brazilian place on the corner, Tompkins Square, Union Square greenmarket, The Strand... etc.]  But I am sure there are many things I will fall in love with [have already fallen in love with] on the Upper West Side.

The East Village was a great place to start our New York experience.  Our apartment is small, but we have been happy here.  It was our first apartment together, so of course it will always be special to me.  When we moved in together, we knew right away living in such tight quarters would really make or break our relationship.  I had lived with someone a few years before I met John, [how scandalous, I know] and had kind of vowed to never do it again; I just didn't think it was for me.  [I think I can be kind of high maintenance...]  But then I met John who is so unlike any man I have ever known, and who changed my entire perception of what a relationship is supposed to be; he made me want to take a leap of faith.

Almost a year later and I haven't regretted a moment of it.  I could probably live with John in a box and everything would be okay.  [Well, it would have to be a refrigerator box to accommodate his six-foot-six frame...]  It was good for our relationship; if we can live harmoniously in a tiny two room studio for so long and not want to kill each other, I think we have a pretty bright future.

Onward and upward.

We went uptown today to peruse our new neighborhood.  It was incredibly cold, but we had a nice walk, up and down the area surrounding our new home.  I can't believe we're less than a block from Central Park.  It's so much quieter than our current neighborhood; very diverse in age with a lot of people around our age, a lot of families, and a lot of older people.  I like that mix.  It feels like a happy place.  I am so excited to move.  But I will always remember the East Village and our first tiny apartment together with extreme fondness. 

Just Like the Jeffersons...

John and I are movin' on up.  To the west side.  To a deluxe apartment in the sky.  Well, sort of.  To a deluxe apartment on the fourth floor of a walk up. 

We found an apartment via Craigslist and were approved today.  Without a broker.  It can be done!  The lease will be signed tomorrow.  A block from Central Park. Twice the space of our little closet in the East Village.

It's ours on March 1st.  And we are in shock.  Glorious, glorious shock. 

It's basically the best Valentine's Day present ever.

I Changed My Mind: I Want to Fly Back South for the Winter

...Well.  Not really fly, as I have a terrible, severe fear of flying.  But drive or ride the rails or something, anything.

I just loaded my Google homepage, only to be told that it is SEVENTEEN degrees. My mind cannot even comprehend seventeen degrees. I am so cold, and our heat isn't working properly.  We have no control over it, our landlord decides when to turn it off and on.  It wasn't working at all when I got up this morning.  After my shower I just stood in the bathroom trembling, so cold I couldn't even move. 

Snow showers are rumored to be headed our way, depending on where you get your forecast from.  [Google says snow tomorrow; Weather.com says maybe snow on Friday.]  The only thing that could possibly make this kind of cold bearable is some snow.  I am dying for some snow. 

The terrible thing is that this is only the beginning.  I thought about that this morning while I was standing at the bus stop, wrapped in five layers and still freezing; the wind making my nose numb.  How am I supposed to make it through three or four more months?  Will I get used to this?  I don't know how this works.  I'm new at winter.  It is very rarely seventeen degrees in sunny, warm, fantastic coastal North Carolina.  [Can you tell I'm a little homesick right now?]

I just don't know about this whole winter thing.  I just don't think I have what it takes.              

New York: A Love/Hate Relationship

I was always more in love with the idea of New York than New York itself.

I imagined something quite different than what I have been living in for the past five months. I watched reruns of Sex and the City and Friends and thought we'd be living in a two bedroom in Greenwich Village or in a cozy brownstone on the Upper East Side. Not a cave on Avenue C. This is what happens when you only visit a city twice before you actually move there and rely on sitcoms to paint an accurate picture of New York. Perhaps I should have spent more time in the city before relocating my entire life, but there wasn't time or money. John and I made a decision, closed our eyes and jumped...

...And I hated New York.

I hate the subways in July. I hate that if I want to go to a really good grocery store [which "Associated Supermarkets" is not] I have to travel all the way to Union Square; which is a pain when you just want a decent avocado. I hate the squatters next door, always begging for cigarettes, and on one memorable occasion, pizza. I hate that I can't find PBR in a bottle or smoke in a bar... and don't even get me started on the lack of sweet tea. I hate the remoteness of Avenue C. I hate that my friends are 12 hours away. I hate the buildings everywhere, going to the laundromat, and our apartment which is roughly the size of my closet back home.

Of course, John loves New York.

I thought, surely I'll have to leave him. There's no way I'm going to be able to stick this out, especially considering my Southern blood is cold when it's 75, and winter is quickly headed our way. I love John, but love can only sustain a person so long.

But now autumn has settled in. It's cold and grey, but the leaves are orange and red and incredible. We walked through Central Park on Sunday afternoon, the chomp-chomp of dead leaves under our feet and that sweet fall smell in the air. It's a kind of autumn I've never experienced in the South. The skate rink is open, and I want to go even though I haven't gone ice skating in probably ten years. I love being bundled up in my new coat and hat and gloves. I love the pumpkins in all the windows all over the city. I love walking into my warm apartment, which suddently seems almost... cozy. I - dare I say - love New York in the autumn, and even find myself excitedly anticipating the snow. I want to go to the park and build a snowman; I want to have a snowball fight.

This autumn, this impending winter... these are newfound things to me. It's a different kind of cold. The seasons actually change here, and it's beautiful and something I am not at all accustomed to. The New Yorkers laugh at me when I tell them how excited I am for winter - a season that usually depresses me to no end. "Wait, just wait. You'll hate it soon." But I am imagining the Christmas lights strung all over the city, and the quiet the snow will bring. I am a snow bird in reverse, happily staying North for the winter.

New York, just when I think I can't stand another second... New York, ever surprising and ever changing.

A relationship like most relationships in my life.