It’s a Helluva Town

I have been in New York City almost three weeks, and yet I still haven’t grasped that I actually live here.  Have you ever wanted something so much that once you get it, you can’t believe that it’s real?  That’s how I feel about living in New York.  I have been dreaming of it my whole life, and now that dream is real; I’m living it.

Things are starting to feel normal now.  Well, more normal.  I have now been in New York longer than I ever have, and it’s starting to feel like home.  I know, you’re wondering how a city of over nine million people, massively tall buildings, frequent noise, and a definite lack of greenery can feel like home.  Not to get all Bill-Clinton-at-the-Impeachment-Trial (oh the 1990s!) on you, but it depends on what the definition of home is.  Sure, “home is where the heart is,” but I think home is a place you feel comfortable and happy and especially where you feel infinitely sad upon leaving.

I suppose I’m still in the “honeymoon phase” of my life here: everything seems wonderful and new and significant.  You know what?  I’m okay with that.  I think we’re too jaded these days about everything in our lives; we’ve seen it and done it all.  I don’t want to go through life never enjoying anything because it’s passé to still be genuinely amazed by things.  Though I’m starting to feel more at home here, sometimes I’m walking around Manhattan at night when the skyscrapers are all lit up, and I can’t catch my breath.  I just look around me in wonder, thinking, “Wow, I really live here.  It’s just so beautiful.”  I have a realistic version of New York City and a romantic one; usually I live somewhere in between, but right now, I’m living more in the romantic one, the one where the sight of the Chrysler and Empire State Building make me swoon and a leisurely walk through Central Park makes me dream about having a great romance with someone.

I have my worries too, mostly concerning finances.  In a city where you have everything at your fingertips, they don’t tell you how much having everything at your fingertips actually costs.  I suppose it’s a rude awakening for any young person, moving out on his or her own and starting their life.  Having to pay for everything your parents took care of for you like groceries and utilities and transportation can feel overwhelming.  I’m only about three weeks into it, and I finally fully understand my parents’ worries about how to make ends meet.

On the other hand, I am wholly optimistic about the future.  As of this moment, I only see possibilities, and I’m keeping the negative thoughts at bay.  The bad comes with the good too, you see, and you have to figure out how to deal with both, and right now, I’m doing a pretty good job of focusing my energy into positivity.  Yesterday, I auditioned for and was cast in a cabaret show at the Duplex down in Greenwich Village.  It showcases emerging talent and gives us an opportunity to perform, potentially for agents/managers.  I’m performing in November, and I’m pretty excited to have a chance to do that again since I spent my summer winery-ing and being jealous of all my friends with summerstock jobs.  It’s a place to start.

A New York debut.  You only get one (and of course, you only get one Broadway debut, but that will take longer to secure).  It’s hard not to feel like I’m on the precipice of something special…a life finally fully beginning.


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