Living in New York City has provided a beautiful, chaotic backdrop to my deepest lows, but also served as a catalyst for some of my greatest moments of clarity, this year being no exception. I made the leap to..
Here I am, two years into living in New York City and finally feeling comfortable, perhaps too much so, in this place. The rumble of the subway only slightly registers in my ears now and a perpetual stream of honking becomes daily background noise. The steady hum of the city is energizing and comforting all
As we looked for a place to park our behemoth of a U-Haul truck, we were greeted by an older man in a faded baseball cap. He waved us over, letting us know we could park in the empty spot right near where we needed to be. Though technically, the area he guided us to
Finding the perfect apartment can be a thrilling whirlwind of an experience- new place, new roommates, new neighborhood. With my mom, a real estate agent, and my father, a home inspector, I’ve been able to see inside a fair share of homes on the market in the past. Each time, it’s a bit of a
June 13th marked my one year anniversary in the city and spent it by laying on my floor mattress, loft recently disassembled. The air in our apartment was stifling; the breeze outside nonexistent. I never reinstalled my air conditioning this spring as it was an unusually cool few months for once. Plus, the thought of
“Aren’t you afraid?” Twice, I have attended rallies in New York City. Twice, I have been asked the same exact question. Have I ever felt afraid for my safety? Isn’t it scary to be engulfed in a crowd? Considering I do it every day around rush hour, when I stuff my body onto the already
Recently, I talked about writing my own love letter and stuffing it in the overflowing letter box that sits tucked away in one of my favorite cafes in Connecticut. Written prior to living in Brooklyn, this letter was when I wasn’t sure if the apartment I threw most of my savings at was going to be mine.
I’ve hit my 4th-month mark of living in Brooklyn, and close to five years since I first hopped on the Metro-North train from Connecticut to explore New York City on my own. I remember the anxiety taking my seat each time regardless if it was for a job interview or concert, the knots in my stomach impossible to untangle
Well, it has officially been a week since I’ve moved to Brooklyn. Though I still have yet to have my first official “weekend” in Brooklyn, and probably won’t for a while with all the traveling back & forth to Connecticut. My feet hurt yet I want to keep exploring, I’ve already tired of the 40 minute
I’ve put off writing this piece partially because of the amount of work I’ve had to finish, life events that need to be properly prepared for and celebrated, but also because some part of me still believes this isn’t real. But considering my future roommates were handed their keys and I’m on my way to