RELEASED

It was a warm, almost autumn day. The trains were running late, teens were yapping loudly and tourists were still walking slowly. All in all it could’ve been classified as a typical New York day. But ah, typical it was not. On the morning the day before I received a phone call. Normally I don’t answer my cell phone at work unless I am on my lunch break. But I was anxiously expecting a call from someone. Anyone really. I stared at the phone for half of a second, picked it up, and ran to the kitchen area for privacy. In about 10 minutes I received the news I had been waiting for:

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A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

New York City is full of people. Lots and lots of people. Totally shocking right? The absolutely wonderful part of living with all of these people is not having them touch you on the subway, but the abundance of diversity. I grew up in a pretty ethnically diverse city…it was kind of the definition of a “melting pot”. The people I grew up with were mostly biracial and multiracial. My childhood friends definitely looked like the rainbow coalition. I went to college in a not so diverse city. In fact my school had a very small percentage of people of color which was kind of a culture shock for me. As a result, I surrounded myself with people who looked like me. My circle of friends looked less like Fruity Pebbles and more like Coco Pebbles.

I was excited about moving to a more diverse place again to expand the color of my friendships. What I love about the diversity in NYC is that everyone is PROUD to be who they are. They don’t try to blend in, (or assimilate). They are out and out proud that they are different than you. Not just in culture but style as well. It’s so amazing to see. and soak in. I even planned to go to the West Indian Day Parade just to soak up the awesome, but unfortunately it was raining and I didn’t want to soak up the water.

Although all of this cultural diversity is great, I didn’t really comprehend the existence of ethnic enclaves. Of course I heard of China Town and Little Italy, and Spanish Harlem but I guess I honestly thought they were more of a myth. I quickly got over this naive thought during the first time I was searching for apartments.

This House Is Not A Home

As an avid reader of blogs I really hate when bloggers go missing and I am not updated on what’s going on in their life. And of course…I just did that for the past month. So sorry! But a girl’s gotta live! So for now I’m back, still alive and have tons of stories to tell.

I have now successfully completed my second month in the city! *cheers* It seems both unbelievable and comfortable at the same time. The one place I am not comfortable is the place where I am paying rent. I know I’ve expressed before how this was going to be a difficult situation but as every celebrity on MTV Diaries has said; “You think you know but you have no idea.”

R.I.P. Just Killed the Cat

Word to Young Jeezy.

In my college apartment I had three roommates. I had different levels of “like” for each of them. Apparently, it’s not any different post-college. Now I only have one human roommate and two furry roommates. One I hate, one I tolerate and one I am just indifferent about. The dog is basically one of the best roommates I’ve ever had. I honestly forget he’s here. I also forget if he’s actually a “he.” But, it doesn’t even matter because he minds his own business, lays out on the floor melting from the heat and stays in the other room. In fact, the dog and I are a lot alike, that must be why he’s my favorite.

My least favorite roommate isn’t a cat from hell; he is the cat from hell. He is annoying, he won’t leave me alone and his favorite activity is trying to push my door open at night. When I was viewing the place I thought “Aw how cute! A kitty! Just like at home.” Then when my human roommate explained to me that he was there to kill the rats I thought “Aw how gross! A rat killer! But what a useful little buddy.”

To Move and Be Moved Pt. 1: (Un)settling Down

There are very few things that I absolutely, utterly, down in the pit of my soul despise. Actually, that’s not true, there are a lot. But I am only going to name three.

1. Being so hot that my sweat glands turn into faucets and just pour out salty water from my face. (Yes, I realize that was disgusting but I know you now have a great visual).
2. Being abruptly woken up out of my sleep. My mom has been on the receiving end of many “What do you want?”‘s on mornings when I have asked to her to make sure I was awake. And my alarm clocks, my poor poor alarm clocks, deserve worker’s comp for everything I have put them through.
3. Having to move and never feeling comfortable.