I made it up to New York over the weekend. I haven’t been to this place since I was sixteen years old. It was on my heart to come this way since my dad passed, but also because most of the writing jobs that I would love to have are here. Either way, there’s so much opportunity in New York I couldn’t resist trying to cut off a piece of the apple for myself.
Like Atlanta, my goal is to stay in New York for three weeks to get the best feel of the city I can without actually living here. I have to admit, so far so good! A lot of people in my hometown wrinkled up their noses when I told them I wanted to go to New York. They were also giant hippies, so I’m taking that for what it is.
Existing in so much culture has soothed my soul in an indescribable way. I turn a corner, I hear four languages. I see restaurants with food from around the world. Even the bodega on the corner is run my an older Korean woman who houses some of the best kimchi I’ve ever had.
Also, the people are nicer than what everyone has said. Yeah, it’s a city, but people have still stopped to help me out. Shop workers have had idle conversation with me. I’ve even gotten a few recommendations. People have wanted to point me in the right direction.
Hearing the general hum of this place makes me realize why my dad was the way he was and it makes me feel a little closer to him along the way.
I just hope that with that spirit I can find what I need here.