Here I am- I've finally hacked back into my blogger account after I had forgotten my password and attempted every combination of each of my email addresses with the only two passwords I've ever used in my entire life about 50,000 times.
I've been living in New York (Brooklyn to be precise) for almost exactly four months now. Since then, mishaps, mishaps, mishaps:
1. The day I moved in, the girl I'm subletting from was nowhere to be found. If it had not been for my current roommate, my mom and I would have been waiting outside of the apartment for over two hours in 100 degree heat.
2. I got horribly lost somewhere near 42nd street coming back from the NYPL, called my boyfriend, who was in Washington D.C. expecting him to be able to give me directions.
3. Felt inadaquate at my internship when a reader (a volunteer, only comes in one day a week) got an interview for a job I had applied for a week previous to her application.
4. Spent almost every single weekend in Williamsburg, wishing I were a) more indie or b) rich.
5. Acquirred about forty books. Oops.
6. Dealt with insanity from roommate who expected me to pay more than half the electricity bill because I "turn on my lamp."
7. Dealt with insanity from said subletee who is coming tomorrow to get her furniture out of this room even though I paid for a furnished room until August 31st.
8. Been ashamed to take my map out in public.
9. Spent $13 on a cocktail.
10. Watched fireworks over Manhattan from Park Slope, Brooklyn.
11. Attempted to return shoes. When salesperson would not take them back (quote, they were "worn") I threw said box of shoes at him, flicked him off, and walked out of the store. (I lost $50 because of my rage).
New York has been everything and nothing I expected to be, which I assume is why people love it is so much and flock to live here, despite the insane living costs. There is certainly something to be said about sitting in Central Park on a Sunday, watching pugs and babies go by near the sailing pond. There is something to be said about reading on the subway, going to a show, or constantly being surrounded either by insanely attractive people or just insane people.
Getting an apartment and job simultaneously is one of the most difficult things I've ever done in my entire life. I have a new apartment, in Park Slope, THANK GOD. The job- I'm still working on. I've gone on three job interviews and counting.
Somehow, at the end of the day, all hell could break loose, the roof could cave in on your head, you could get mugged, or a homeless man could try to talk to you about baseball, but you'd still be in New York. I know the sentiment is inane and tired, but it's true. Somehow, it's all worth it, all the bullshit and the assholes and the stench of Canal Street, it's all worth it.
French Bulldog Count: 134