I'm in a New York State of Mind
New York City is a dream. And a bit of a nightmare. It taught me the reality of the phrase “It’s a great place to visit, I wouldn’t want to live there.*” The asterisk is because everyone SHOULD live there at least once in their life...while they can.
Let me qualify that last statement. There are two kinds of people who can live in New York. One is the young, freewheeling type – who are game for anything and think that NYC is an amazing experience. I don’t blame them; I was there once myself. The other is the rich people – who don’t have to think about how much it costs to actually live there!
I started out my life in New York City as the first type of person that I mentioned. I was about a year out of college and had been to NYC a few times on business. The city was...intoxicating...intense...inviting...and all sorts of adjectives that start with a vowel. I was offered a job in NYC, asked a friend to help me find an apartment in NY, and took the first apartment that I saw (I saw two that day). The night I left Maryland to move to New York, my brother offered to buy me a gun. “Just in case.” I declined to take him up on his offer.
I loved New York. The city is everything that you ever hoped it would be. And more. Everything is accessible by public transportation. You can find anything within a three-block walk. There is SO MUCH to do. The city has a “jazz” or a “vibe” that is palpable. I have yet to have met someone who has been to NYC and hasn’t been caught up in that vibe. There’s something about New York that makes you want to stay up and out all night (although in the interest of full disclosure, I have only done that ONCE) and overindulge (“I can just take a cab home”). It’s almost like the city is challenging you. “How little sleep can you go without?”
After a couple of weeks of living in the City that Never Sleeps, you start to learn about the reality of the situation. My typical phrase is “It’s a really tough city to live in.” Unfortunately, the only people who understand that are people who have LIVED there, and learned how tough it is. It’s like a drug. Or an intense-but-bound-to-flame-out relationship. Because technically, it’s both.
You get sucked in by the power of the city. You let it take you over. Before you even know it, you’re hooked. You’re living life minute-to-minute – a “New York Minute,” if you will. It’s addictive for awhile. Makes you feel good. Strong. Powerful. Unstoppable. You need more. Then eventually, you realize, New York is not there for you. You need IT more than it needs you. You chase the dragon. How can you get that same buzz of the city that you got when you first went there? The answer is, you can’t. You can’t recapture it, and honestly...you can’t afford it. Face it, the honeymoon is over. You’re stuck. So, you have two choices. Become a “Slave of New York” (thank you, Tama Janowitz) or formulate an exit plan.
For me, the city got to be too much. People can be intense. The living conditions can be a bit intolerable on a long-term basis. I lived by myself, but my walls and carpet were brown, I had one window (with an air conditioner in it) and I lived next to a parking garage where I could hear the door open and close 24 hours a day. I eventually found comfort in the metallic whir at 3:15am. Others I know had to live with roommate(s). Not advised for the over-23 crowd, especially with the cramped living conditions. I have a suitcase at home that could be rented for $1500/month in New York. Trust me on this one.
Eventually you turn on the locals. The local Chinese place doesn’t deliver fast enough. The local bodega doesn’t get the New York Times early enough. The subway by your apartment is unreliable. The grocery store doesn’t carry the brand of coffee that you like. It’s like realizing that the little quirk that your significant other had at the beginning of your relationship that was so adorable, is now just plain obnoxious. It’s time to bail.
I lucked out. The company I was working for had a position open in the LA office and I went for it. And haven’t looked back. Well, not really.
I miss my friends in New York. The people there are spectacular, amazing and passionate. And the last time I was back in NYC, I had that same thought cross my mind...the same one that I had cross my mind years ago. “I could live here.” The older and wiser person in me laughs and shrugs it off. But that eternal optimist says “But what if....”
What if, indeed.
Let me qualify that last statement. There are two kinds of people who can live in New York. One is the young, freewheeling type – who are game for anything and think that NYC is an amazing experience. I don’t blame them; I was there once myself. The other is the rich people – who don’t have to think about how much it costs to actually live there!
I started out my life in New York City as the first type of person that I mentioned. I was about a year out of college and had been to NYC a few times on business. The city was...intoxicating...intense...inviting...and all sorts of adjectives that start with a vowel. I was offered a job in NYC, asked a friend to help me find an apartment in NY, and took the first apartment that I saw (I saw two that day). The night I left Maryland to move to New York, my brother offered to buy me a gun. “Just in case.” I declined to take him up on his offer.
I loved New York. The city is everything that you ever hoped it would be. And more. Everything is accessible by public transportation. You can find anything within a three-block walk. There is SO MUCH to do. The city has a “jazz” or a “vibe” that is palpable. I have yet to have met someone who has been to NYC and hasn’t been caught up in that vibe. There’s something about New York that makes you want to stay up and out all night (although in the interest of full disclosure, I have only done that ONCE) and overindulge (“I can just take a cab home”). It’s almost like the city is challenging you. “How little sleep can you go without?”
After a couple of weeks of living in the City that Never Sleeps, you start to learn about the reality of the situation. My typical phrase is “It’s a really tough city to live in.” Unfortunately, the only people who understand that are people who have LIVED there, and learned how tough it is. It’s like a drug. Or an intense-but-bound-to-flame-out relationship. Because technically, it’s both.
You get sucked in by the power of the city. You let it take you over. Before you even know it, you’re hooked. You’re living life minute-to-minute – a “New York Minute,” if you will. It’s addictive for awhile. Makes you feel good. Strong. Powerful. Unstoppable. You need more. Then eventually, you realize, New York is not there for you. You need IT more than it needs you. You chase the dragon. How can you get that same buzz of the city that you got when you first went there? The answer is, you can’t. You can’t recapture it, and honestly...you can’t afford it. Face it, the honeymoon is over. You’re stuck. So, you have two choices. Become a “Slave of New York” (thank you, Tama Janowitz) or formulate an exit plan.
For me, the city got to be too much. People can be intense. The living conditions can be a bit intolerable on a long-term basis. I lived by myself, but my walls and carpet were brown, I had one window (with an air conditioner in it) and I lived next to a parking garage where I could hear the door open and close 24 hours a day. I eventually found comfort in the metallic whir at 3:15am. Others I know had to live with roommate(s). Not advised for the over-23 crowd, especially with the cramped living conditions. I have a suitcase at home that could be rented for $1500/month in New York. Trust me on this one.
Eventually you turn on the locals. The local Chinese place doesn’t deliver fast enough. The local bodega doesn’t get the New York Times early enough. The subway by your apartment is unreliable. The grocery store doesn’t carry the brand of coffee that you like. It’s like realizing that the little quirk that your significant other had at the beginning of your relationship that was so adorable, is now just plain obnoxious. It’s time to bail.
I lucked out. The company I was working for had a position open in the LA office and I went for it. And haven’t looked back. Well, not really.
I miss my friends in New York. The people there are spectacular, amazing and passionate. And the last time I was back in NYC, I had that same thought cross my mind...the same one that I had cross my mind years ago. “I could live here.” The older and wiser person in me laughs and shrugs it off. But that eternal optimist says “But what if....”
What if, indeed.
posted by Princess Leah at 12:17 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home