City, I Love You.

A week ago I moved to New York City.

I had initially been planning to come here in May, for a couple of months, to see what it was like to live here. Ever since I first came here with my parents when I was 14, I've been basically obsessed with all things New York. I've been here more than 20 times (4 times just last year) and I've worn a Subway token around my neck almost every day for the past three years.

It was time.

When an opportunity for the perfect place (perfect location, perfect set-up, perfect price) came up on Monday, January 7th, I expedited the whole plan (quite a bit). I am so incredibly lucky to have an extreme support system: Most important are my wonderful employers who trust me enough to send me 500 miles away with an iMac and the promise that I'll get all of my work done. I'm also lucky enough to be in a profession (graphic designer) that can pretty much be performed from anywhere with a reliable Internet connection.

Of course there's also my dad, who was more than enthusiastic and totally on board for a road trip to deliver me to the city, even though he only had a few days notice. Not only did he drive the entire way — in rain and fog, no less — but he helped me carry my things up five flights of stairs (that's 76 stairs, believe me, I've counted) and managed not to have a heart attack doing so.

As if that wasn't enough, I also have the most incredible family and friends who have done more than their share of cheering me on, checking in on me and just letting me know how very excited they are for me. I think part of their excitement comes from knowing that, at least for a while, they don't have to hear me talk endlessly about how much I want to come to New York. I'm pretty sure I even heard the rumblings of a collective "FINALLY" when I made my plans.

The apartment is awesome. I'm on W. 109th street and the Upper West side has always been one of my favorite neighborhoods. I'm one block from Central Park, one block from Morningside Park and super close to Columbia University and basically anything I'll ever need.

I've loved (and visited) New York so long that it doesn't really feel like I'm away from home, so much as that I'm finally home. I have a lot to figure out while I'm here, huge, lofty things like what I want to do with the rest of my life. I've given myself two months, that should be enough time right?

NO PRESSURE.

I'll be recording my adventures here and I apologize in advance that it's about to get real New Yorky up in here (even more than it was before), but maybe some of you are into that? I totally realize that I'm so incredibly lucky in nearly every single way and I don't intend to waste my time here.

Oh and if anyone knows of a totally awesome apartment opportunity here, let me know. Somehow I don't think two months is going to be long enough for this wannabe New Yorker.