Ever read through old journal entries and think, "Wow, I was such a lame seventh grader!" I did. And history repeats itself as I look over the entries that made their way through the first couple weeks of my New York City residency. What a loser! Having a tough time with the move to NYC, what a joke! It's like looking over the time I cried into my journal because I got picked on during a field trip. Instead of FML, how about a little SIU - Suck it up!
The move did grate on me. A lot. It took much, much longer than anticipated for me to feel comfortable in this city. But now I do, and it was worth it. It was worth it for the Crumbs cupcakes, for the dinner at WD-50, for the wine and cheese bar on 52nd and 9th and for even the occasional P.J. Clarke's sliders. I look back and I see that I wanted to find a favorite coffee place (El Beit, N. 9th and Bedford), farmer's market (Union Square) and brunch (Bouchon Bakery). Now I have; now I'm here.
I'm in a new apartment, picked mostly for it's spacious kitchen and not so much for the five flights of stairs I have to climb to get to said kitchen. The first Duane Read just opened in Williamsburg giving me a place to (gasp!) buy Lean Cuisines for lunch at work. By no means do I qualify as a local, but at least I don't feel out of place.
And when the hipsters still shun me because I don't own a fedora, at least I know where I can get a damn good cocktail (Hotel Delmano). Kisses NYC, looks like you're stuck with me, for now.