New York is the city that everyone loves to hate.
Even the natives, the lifers complain about the crowded urban streets, the slow moving tourists and the signature aroma of the E-train in August.
Whether its the latest gubernatorial scandal or a looming pandemic of influenza that leaves tourists scrambling for hygienic face masks, it seems that this city is always abuzz, always on the edge of something. Some people love it, others, not so much.
In 2005, the summer before my senior year in college I had an internship at an entertainment marketing agency where my boss was twenty-five and hip, the other interns gossiped about Juicy sweatshirts and everybody seemed to know someone famous.
I felt high walking through Times Square (maybe I’ll see Sarah Jessica Parker!) and I wanted to dress as trendy as everyone else. I had to live here.
My first summer in the city brought me a job in a public relations firm where we wore jeans on Fridays and drank vodka tonics (I hate vodka tonics)at the dive bar around the corner after especially long or taxing days.
I had fleeting friendships with girls who wore Theory blazers and took me to dinner at restaurants like Pastis and Sushi Samba, where I had fun, but never quite felt like I fit in with my $40 trench coat from Target (and that $40 trench coat is more telling of my personality than a $24 California roll).
I had a few relationships, none of them serious, all over before they started: with an aloof MTV video producer who liked to talk about himself, a financial adviser who said all the right things when I wanted to hear them and an investment banker who was great on paper but kind of broke my heart.
I’m moving to Chicago, to do something new, something that’s mine, to have an experience that I can create from scratch.
Based on the past three and a half years, I know that if I take one learning, one friendship or one realization from every experience, it will be hard not to look back on it with fond memories.
So in December, I will officially be leaving the Northeast and soon thereafter taking a new role in the digital group of my public relations firm, at its Windy City co-headquarters.
I’ll miss a lot of things about the city: the view over the Hudson river when the sun is setting, living near my family and even the organic market across the street from my lovely albeit overpriced third floor walk-up.
I’ll also miss having a dishwasher in my apartment.
I’ll miss that a lot.
Did you notice that I’ve been posting more frequently than usual this week? In celebration of National Novel Writing Month, some bloggers choose to commemorate November with NaBloPoMo, or National Blog Posting Month. I’ve challenged myself to post daily this month and hope that you’ll challenge yourselves to read them all!