I'm moving to New York City.

I'm moving to New York City.

*yaaaaaawn* "Sure," you say, "you and everyone else".

Yes, it's true. But there is something about this particular city, perhaps more than any other, that immediately sparks ideas of new beginnings, and hopes, and success. People are starry eyed over New York. It represents something intangible - strength, and freedom. To be a "New Yorker", well, that's something one must earn. It implies power and street smarts. It is a coveted title.

It is bogus. Let's be real here, kids, New York is a beautiful, complex, and amazing city, but living there is going to be a bitch and a half. I'm signing up to pay exorbitant rent for a TINY room (if I'm lucky), to be constantly up to my elbows in people, and to spend most of my time completely lost while desperately attempting to keep my "cool face" intact as I struggle to determine where exactly I am at any given moment in time.

I cannot wait.

I have wanted to live in this city since I was a wee girl. I have. No really. Growing up on the Jersey shore the way I did, NYC was the place to go for a day trip, and I was no different from any other kid in that respect. I saw my first Broadway play at 7 (CATS, shudder), and could give a tour of the Metropolitan Museum of Art by 10. My mother loves to tell the story of that first weekend, when after a day in the city and a night sitting though "Memories", I ran out of the theater and had hailed a cab before my mother even made it out the front door of the building. I was standing by the door of the car waiting for her as she ran through the crowd after me. By the end of high school between Mom and Sean, my favorite friend, I had gotten thoroughly and happily lost on the streets and subways of the city more times than I care to recall. Sean moved to NYC to pursue his acting/singing/dancing career. And I got as far north as Montclair, able to see the city through my window at night.

That's as far as I ever made it, and instead sort of rubber banded back into New Jersey and have been making my way slowly south ever since. I hopscotched from Montclair State to Rutgers U, then down the Philly then on to Maryland. There's a lot of life in those years that can be covered as we go, I think. Or not at all. We're focused on the present and the future, so we shall see. But, having gotten to Maryland - which is entirely beautiful, by the way, really peaceful and lovely - I stood in the unusual position of quite suddenly having no job, no relationship, no school, no lease; total freedom. And seeing as this is not the sort of opportunity that comes around often, I decided that if I was ever going to be adventurous, it had better be now.

So. I'm moving to New York City.

I have started and stopped other blogs. But they were unfocused, unclear. More like published journals. You know the sort. They weren't BAD, necessarily. But they were self-indulgent. Not that this one isn't. In any case, my goal here is going to be to explore and discover not only New York City, but myself. I want to observe as much as possible while in this crazy city, and share the better stuff with you. I'll take pictures and write words. I'll find cool places and share them. I'll find lame places, and if they are funny enough, I'll share them too. I'll find cool and lame people, and share them. Hell, I'll find cool and lame dogs. It's a big city. There's a lot of stuff there, and a lot of it is going to be worth writing about. So come with me.

Next installment: Finding a closet to call my own.