Chapter 12: Finish what you start

“Once you have lived in New York and made it your home, no place else is good enough.”

— John Steinbeck

My plane hit the tarmac in Atlanta three days ago, but it’s taken me that long to catch up on sleep and actually make sense of what I’ve done. I’m currently sitting on my couch in Marietta, Georgia, drinking coffee out of my favorite mug and everything has come into perspective. It’s time to write this final chapter. I am home. I did it.

Anyone who is close to me knew I was scared out of my mind when I first left for New York back in May. And that fear did not subside once I got there. If I’m honest, it stayed with me for the entirety of my stay in Manhattan, manifesting itself in various forms. I would get the hang of one thing, and it would find me in another. From the struggles of learning the etiquette of walking on the busiest city streets in the world, to panicking on subways going the wrong way, to the times where I doubted if I was good enough to be chosen for this internship in the first place. Fear was part of my daily life. And I had the shaking hands and the ulcers in my mouth to prove it.

Having applied on a whim to this internship, I didn’t entirely know what I was getting myself into when I accepted the position. And truthfully, I didn’t understand it for the majority of my time there, until I attended an Intern Meet and Greet lunch on my floor. All of the interns and our supervisors met for pizza in one of the giant Nickelodeon conference rooms. We went around the room and everyone introduced themselves. About half of the employees in the room had been interns before they were hired. Before they had become employees at this massive international corporation to do their massively important jobs, they were just like me. The HR rep who had set up the lunch gave a mini speech about how privileged we should feel to be sitting around that table. Phrases like “highly selective process” and “best of the best” and “one of the top telecommunications internship programs in the country” were casually thrown around to describe me and what I had done this summer. And suddenly the plastic swivel chair I was sitting in was the best place I had ever been. How I ended up sitting in that seat is astounding, and I'm embarrassed to admit I didn’t fully understand the weight of this whole opportunity until that moment in the boardroom.

I didn’t just spend a summer away from home, I spent a summer in Manhattan, in the most competitive market in the world. I didn’t just land a design internship with zero graphic design experience, I landed a design internship for Nickelodeon. I didn’t just work for Nickelodeon, I worked for Viacom International Media Networks. The long hours I spent in Times Square contributed to global projects for one of the world’s biggest telecommunications companies. The things I designed got sent to major media buyers all over the globe. My custom Nick postcards were sent to clients in California. People in Asia saw my BET Awards poster. The lanyards I designed will be worn around the necks of people in Cannes, France. And it’s crazy to think that all of these things came about because I decided to apply to one job on a whim. That one moment of bravery sent me on an adventure that I never anticipated. And after all of my adventuring, I have come back braver as a person.

New York changed me. Professionally speaking, I stand up straighter. I speak with more confidence. I know I am capable of amazing things in my field. I have the power to go to big places and do big things and hold my own in one of the most competitive environments in the world. But more than that, I came back a better version of myself on a personal level. The friendships that truly mattered never faltered, and I had an amazing support system helping me, even from hundreds of miles away. I was thrown into a place completely foreign to the beliefs and the morals that I was raised with, and I held onto them. In a way, they even became magnified. I’m coming home from this experience knowing that the things I believe are real and they’re an authentic part of who I am, not just a product of my surroundings. I’m coming home knowing that the God who created the ocean and the stars and the sunsets that take my breath away is the same God that created the madness that is Manhattan, New York. And He is the only one who can help me navigate it.

If you’ve ever clicked around this website, you know I always talk about how I love feeling small. The mountains, the seas, the sunsets that set the entire sky on fire. My favorite things are the ones that make you realize how tiny you truly are, and how big God is. And I think maybe that’s why I came to love New York so much. I was the smallest fish in the biggest pond, and while that came with its fair share of struggles (illustrated throughout this blog), I landed in Atlanta as an immensely better version of myself than I was when I took off back in May. I’ve watched sunsets that made me smile, and I’ve looked for stars in a skies where I know they’re impossible to see. I’ve seen the Empire State Building light up in the colors of every single country’s flag in the world for the Olympics. I’ve cried walking down Broadway, listening to sad songs after a bad day at work. I’ve held hands with a boy at a Broadway show. I’ve lost my phone in a taxi and I will never see it (or half the pictures I took this summer) ever again. I’ve found Jesus in a place where He can be so hard to find, and so easy to forget. I’ve been built up and torn down over and over this summer, but I am so thankful for every single thing that happened to me. Without this summer, I would not be the version of myself that I am here and now, typing this to you.

Maybe this is the first post you’ve read, or maybe you’ve been keeping up all along. Regardless, I’m thankful that you’ve found yourself on this page. This collection of blog posts, The NYC Chronicles, outlines one of the most difficult and transitional periods of my life. And as amazing as it’s been, that period is now over. I’m sure I’ll see New York again in the future (probably the very near future, if we’re honest), but as of now, the NYC Chronicles are officially closed and it’s time for me to go back to reality in Athens. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this blog, and to anyone who has reached out to me about it. You guys are so encouraging and I hope you found as much insight in these words as I did while writing them. New York, I’ll be homesick for you forever. Until next time.

Chapter 11: Airplanes & Thunderstorms

“If you want to be full of hope, you have to suffer a bit. You have to find purpose in the suffering so you don’t give up. You have to persevere. And when you persevere, your character, your proven faith and tried integrity, grows. And then hope. Hope arrives.”

— Annie Downs, Looking for Lovely

If you are close to me, you might know that I recently read a book that changed my life. "Looking for Lovely" by Annie Downs.

In the first chapter, Annie talks about a thunderstorm. She’s flying from Atlanta to Dallas and she has the opportunity to watch this wicked storm from the perspective of an airplane. She describes the colors and the movement, and the way this massive piece of weather is shaping the land below it. She talks about it the same way someone would talk about a work of art. Yet if you were one of the people who was actually down there in that storm, it wouldn’t seem beautiful at all. With all the rain and hail and winds, on a day you probably happened to forget your umbrella. The kind of storm that is a masterpiece from above is the same kind of storm that ruins your entire day when you’re actually down there living in it.

New York City is a little bit like a storm to me. Truthfully, I have been having a rough time. When people ask me, I tell them that my trip is going well. Because fundamentally, technically, it is. Everything is going according to plan. But am I still having the time of my life? Not really. I have started running on autopilot. Days last forever, but the weeks fly by. I struggle to write because I struggle to find the pretty things in my everyday, so I don’t have anything to share. Sometimes it seems like the magic of this city has worn off, and I'm not dying to stay here anymore. I find myself daydreaming about how I’m going to decorate my new apartment in Athens when I get home. I get snapchats of my friends together and it makes me want to be where they are instead of alone in Manhattan. I call my parents multiple times a day, or not at all. It got to a point where I started to feel a little bit like I was drowning, and I had so been looking forward to going home for the 4th of July, just to escape the city for the short time that I did.

My flight out of New York that Friday night was the biggest nightmare of my life. When we finally got off the ground (six hours later than scheduled), I was dozing off to “Nervous” by Gavin James when I was woken up by a flash. I opened my eyes, and I saw God.

There, right outside my airplane window, was one of the most incredible things I’d ever seen. We were flying over a storm, and it was just like I had read about. It was nighttime, so the strange shades of grays and purples that Annie described in her chapter were indiscernible to me. But it was still so beautiful. This was more than just big clouds with some lighting. This storm was a creature; rolling, moving, undoubtedly disturbing and demanding the attention of anyone unfortunate enough to be below it. Streaks of lightning zig-zagged from left to right, from the top of the sky to the ground, illuminating it from within and revealing how truly massive it was. I watched for what must have been at least ten minutes, and it actually brought tears to my eyes.

I realized in that moment that I'm not as good at seeing the storms in my life as I am the storms from an airplane window. Things are not as easy as I anticipated here in New York. My plans have been altered by circumstances outside of my control. This storm in my life is making things difficult, and I've been suffering through it from here on ground rather than trying to look at it from the sky.

From where God is, every single storm in your life looks like a work of art. From where He is, the thing that's making your life difficult and the thing you're struggling to get through is something so beautiful and unique. The colors and the lights and the movement, they're unlike anything else in this world. And it may be the worst time of your life when you're down here experiencing it, but from up above, it's a masterpiece that's actively shaping you into the masterpiece He intended you to be.

Sometimes it takes a midnight thunderstorm at 39,000 feet to remind you that there is a bigger plan than your own. To remind you that the storms that make you wish for an easier way out, the storms that make you doubt yourself, and the storms that make you want to quit — even the storms that delay your flight for six hours — are all beautiful and serve a purpose. Without them, we cannot grow.

Whenever you find yourself in the middle of a storm, I hope you'll imagine what it looks like from an airplane. Because it makes dealing with it on the ground sting just a little less, and it is such a humbling experience to feel God actively working in your life.

Chapter 10: Be Brave

“My favorite thing about New York is the people, because I think they’re misunderstood. I don’t think people realize how kind New York people are.”

— Bill Murray

Did you know there are 8.5 million humans in New York City?

And at any given point, you can be in a park with thousands of them, or on a subway with hundreds of them, or (uncomfortably) crammed on an elevator with fifteen of them. The amount of people on this island is insane. At first I found it kind of empowering and freeing to be able to walk down the street and not have a single person know who I am, or care who I am, for that matter. But it's been about a month and I'm starting to realize how easy it is to get lost here. It's easy to feel like you're less than you are when the people who surround you on a daily basis don't know anything about you.

So just as a quick reminder, for myself and whoever else may need to hear it. Your identity is never lost in a sea of faces. Your weaknesses are not magnified by strength in numbers. You do not become less when there is more around you. You are strong enough to stand alone, and it's okay if you like it. What you believe in and what you love still exist, even when no one knows your name. And what's more, there is no such thing as "the most attractive person in the room." So stop comparing yourself to others and finding ways to sell yourself short. Everyone is attracted to something different, and everyone sees beauty differently. Know your worth and accept nothing less, even when you are anonymous. It gets easy to lump yourself in with a large group of people and rank yourself closer to the bottom. But sometimes being alone in a crowd is the best thing that can happen to you. Sometimes it takes being alone in a crowd to know you're better than you thought you were, to know that you are brave.

You were created to be brave. You were created to be right where you are, wherever that may be. So just do what you can, with what you have, where you are, right now. And, even in the midst of 8.5 million strangers, do it bravely. 

Chapter 9: Dear Dad

“You can do this.”

— Chip Huffman

People think it's awesome when I tell them I'm working for Nickelodeon in Times Square. And part of me has to agree; this is probably one of the coolest things I've ever done. But what a lot of people don't know is that I actually wasn't planning on coming here. I didn't want to come here. Not at the beginning, at least. It all kind of happened by accident and when the opportunity presented itself, I really didn't think I could do this. But there was one person in particular that changed my mind, and I want to take a minute to thank him.

When I got an email about interviewing for a position in NYC, I immediately called my dad. I had applied for the job on a whim (truthfully, I had wanted to work in Nashville), and I had decided I didn't even want a summer internship anymore. I told him I didn't want to interview. My dad told me you should never turn down interview experience. So I did it. When Viacom asked me to complete a complicated design project as a follow-up to my interview, I called my dad again. I wanted to tell them no, because why would I invest my time and energy into an application for a job I didn't want to take? My dad told me I owed it to myself to try. So I did it. When I got the call offering me the position, I was baffled. Truthfully, at that point, I still didn't want the internship. It was an honor, but NYC was expensive and far away, and going there meant losing my last summer with my friends. I can't tell you how many times I asked my dad for advice over the next three days. I called. I cried. I had no idea what to do. He told me that ultimately the decision was mine and he would support me no matter what. He told me not to be scared, and to do what I believed in my gut to be the right thing for me. So I did. I accepted the offer.

A few weeks later, my dad and I were on our back porch chatting over a couple of beers. We started talking about New York, because I was leaving in the next few days. He admitted that he felt I had made the right decision, and that he was proud of me and everything I had accomplished to get there. He told me New York City was not going to be easy on me. The challenges were going to be hard and people were not going to be the kindest, but I should never let anyone take advantage of me. He told me that if I ever decided this wasn't what I wanted, he would support my decision to pack my bags and come home anytime. He told me he loved me no matter what, and to be strong and go into this experience with the confidence he knew I had. So that's what I did.

I first started writing this post when I was on the plane ride over here. I've been holding onto it for the past few weeks and I felt it was only fitting to share it today, considering it's Father's Day. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I'm confident in saying this adventure has been one of the greatest things I've ever done. It occurred to me that I wouldn't be on that airplane, I wouldn't have taken this incredible job opportunity, and I wouldn't be sitting at this desk writing these words in Manhattan right now if it were not for my father.

So, padre, this one's for you. HAPPY CHIP'S DAY, CHIP. I'm so sorry that I cannot be there with you today, but I hope you know how much of a blessing it is to call you my father. I am thankful that you see how fearless and strong I am, even when I can't. It's invaluable to have someone who encourages me to reach my full potential, even when I don't know what that potential is -- when I thought I had already found it. Thank you for all your jokes, for cooking great things on the green egg, and for being the biggest fan of this blog. You think I'm brave. You think I'm beautiful. You always see the absolute best in me, and I want you to know that I strive to be the girl you think I am every single day. Thank you for helping me take the steps I was afraid to take on my own, the steps that led me here. This experience is changing my life and my future, and there is absolutely no way I would have done this without your encouragement. I wouldn't be here without you, dad. Happy Father's Day from New York City.

143.

Chapter 8: The Little Things

“One’s life and passion may be elsewhere, but New York is where you prove if what you think in theory makes sense in life.”

— Miuccia Prada

Ever since I jumped in a cab at LaGuardia, I've kept a note on my iPhone of things I've noticed about New York. Things I see, things I learn, things that make me happy, things that make me sad. It's a really long list, and full of really random things. But I like to think that one day I'll be able to look back and read it and remember certain moments about my first couple of months here. I'll be able to remember the little things. And that's important; because to me, the little things are the big things in the end. Of course the big things mean a lot when they happen, but the little things fill every moment of your days in-between. The little moments are what ultimately make up your life, so it's important to remember them.

In no particular order, the following is a list of some of the little things that have made me smile since I got here.

1. A poster in the gay club I visited that read "Love is a terrible thing to hate."

2. Texts from people that I miss.

3. City dogs and city dogs that have owners who resemble them.

4. The convenience store I walk by every day puts flowers for sale outside, and they get fresh ones every three days or so. Every time I walk by, the buds have bloomed a little more than last time I saw them. Every three days it starts over.

5. Attractive strangers on subways.

6. Doormen on my street who nod and say "good morning" on days when I'm not having a good morning.

7. Sitting on a bench in a park where no one knows my name and reading poetry.

8. Church.

9. Things that bring people together. Protests, block parties, flash mobs, Union Square chess tournaments, etc.

10. The bakery down the street leaves their leftover bread on the sidewalk at night instead of throwing it away.

11. Grande dirty chia with soy.

12. The way people look at you differently when your heels click on the sidewalk.

13. People who love each other still hold hands even though it makes it terribly difficult to navigate busy sidewalks.

14. Art. Everywhere. All the time. New York City is art.

15. The people who pour their heart out into singing something on a busy city street. The people who stop to listen.

16. The at-home feeling of stepping into a book store.

17. People's sincere appreciation for parks. People don't take room to breathe for granted here. It means more when you don’t always have it.

18. The word "y'all".

19. When the sun sets and you can only see the part of it that's framed by buildings on either side of the street you're looking down, but it's still so pretty.

20. Men buying flowers in outdoor markets.

21. How long thunder lasts here. It rolls on forever, bouncing off all the buildings.

22. Those moments when it hits you that you can truly be anyone you want and do anything you want here. And you will. I smile every time.

Little moments are little but they are good. Take note of them.

Chapter 7: The Importance of Yes

“People go to L.A. to ‘find themselves.’ They come to New York to become someone new.”

— Lindsey Kelk

I had this conversation with a friend of mine a couple months ago. He knew New York fairly well, and he was planning on moving there after graduation. I told him I was jealous he got to leave Athens to live there, because I had heard New York City was so much fun. And he responded by telling me, "It's awesome, don't get me wrong. But New York isn't like Athens. It's not that easy. You have to make an effort to have a good time." It made sense. But I didn't really understand what he was saying until this weekend. 

I am a "no" person. If someone asks me to do something and I wasn't already thinking I wanted to do it, odds are my answer is going to be no. The mere act of someone asking me is not usually enough for me to change my mind, no matter who's asking or what it is they're asking me to do. Don't get me wrong, I love adventuring. I love to go places and do things and leave my comfort zone behind for awesomeness. But I do what I want, when I want to do it. Not when I feel obliged to say "yes" to a person.

New York City can seriously run you down. The pace is fast, the hours are long, and there are a million people here, but you really only have like three friends. I was sitting on my bed at the end of my week and I realized how very much I just wanted to go to sleep. It was 9:00 on a Friday, and I was ready to say "no" to whatever was being planned for the evening. I was just so tired (as I so eloquently illustrated to you in Chapter 6). But right as I was about to take my makeup off and go to bed, I remembered that conversation with my friend. "You have to make an effort to have a good time." A.K.A, Katy, you have to say yes. Even when you don't feel like it. Especially when you don't feel like it. "Yes" is an important word here. "Yes" is the reason New York is New York. This city waits for no one. And everyone here is tired, but the ones who go out and make awesome things happen and have incredible lives are the ones who say "yes" anyways, despite the tiredness.

This weekend, I wanted to say "no" about eight times. But I didn't. I said "yes" instead. And here's what happened to me: I made friends with UVA people when I went out to watch the Warriors game on Friday. I visited a gay (male) karaoke bar in Greenwich Village and I ended up meeting some awesome networking connections in the advertising field. Saturday was spent window shopping and exploring street festivals with my roomie. We attended (cough cough crashed cough) a Gatsby birthday party in a speakeasy in Midtown, and it was one of the swankiest, funnest nights of my entire life. Sunday I got brunch with my big before heading over to Brooklyn to eat the best chicken and waffles I've ever had. I attended a block party with DJs and water guns. Also met Alexa Chung. That night I went to church in Bushwick and it felt like home to me. 

Sunday night, my mom asked me on the phone if I had a good weekend. I said "yes."

And as of last Friday at 9:00pm, I am actively making an effort to say that word a little more while I'm here. Because being tired sucks and "no" is easy, but "yes" can change your life, especially in a place like New York City.

Chapter 6: Montage

“This isn’t a fairytale. It’s New York City.”

— Alex Flinn, Beastly

You know in movies when they show a montage of the main character doing something? Like when they fly through a whole bunch of time in a character's life, really quick. They show you the victories and the failures and the mundane activities in between with all these little snippets of film. They mix them up, string them together, and set them to music. Before you know it, you've only listened to thirty seconds of a song but you've watched an entire week or month or year of a character's life go by on screen.

That's kind of what my life feels like at this point. And you're like, "But Katy it's only your first week." Yeah people, I know. Whatever. I feel like I'm past the "beginning" part of this. I'm no longer getting settled or figuring things out (for the most part). I've fallen into this routine and every day is relatively the same. These are the snippets of my montage: Get up at 8:00. Get pretty. Eat breakfast, alone. Subway to work. Workworkwork. Eat lunch, alone. Work some more. Leave at 6:00 and either walk 45 minutes home or jump on the subway. Eat dinner, usually alone. Change clothes. Might walk around campus or the park for a little. Come home. Shower. Bed. Sleep. That is my everyday. I keep meaning to write and take pictures and do fun things at night, but y'all. The 9:00 to 6:00 thing is so hard. It changes you. By the end of my day, I am so exhausted, I really just can't wait to sleep. Which, if you know me, is so unlike me it's almost scary. I'm in the city that never sleeps, and it's all I want to do.

I could talk more about how tired my montage is making me, but I digress. I'm getting a little frustrated; I want to get out and do things. I don't want to limit my adventure time to just weekends. I only get ten of those. Plus, weeknights deserve some love too, especially in New York City. Learning to adult is kicking my ass right now, but it's going to get better. Wanna know how I know? Eventually the montage ends and the character comes out on the other side ready for whatever incredible plot twist comes their way. That's me. I am the character (**movie star), and my plot twist is coming. I just have to get through the rotation of victories, failures, and mundane things until I get there. 

CHAPTER 5: Stranded

“Manhattan can act as a giant suction cup, sucking you into its folds. The city breeds no wimps and makes no apologies.”

— Kate Rockland

There are two reasons that I only left my bed once today: 1) When New York City gives you a rainy Sunday afternoon, the only logical thing to do is drink coffee and read poetry. And 2) I really really really love bookstores.

In case you weren't already aware, bookstores are actually the greatest places to ever exist. They are the ultimate escape from anything and everything, and they are undoubtedly my happy place. Regardless of what's going on in my life or what's stressing me out, I can walk into a bookstore and go anywhere in the world. The shelves are lined with thousands of places and people and adventures. All I have to do is pick one up and I'm there. I'm wherever I choose to be. Bookstores feel like home to me. And today, I really needed that.

New York is gray today. I'm running on three hours of sleep and my mood is synonymous with the weather. My favorite pair of shoes may or may not be ruined from the torrential downpour that I walked through earlier today and I looked at my credit card bill for the first time since coming here and it made me want to shed a tear (...or like thirty. New York, y u do dis? You break my heart when you break my bank). Today wasn't outstandingly awful, but it's safe to say this is the roughest day I've had so far. So this afternoon, I grabbed some shoes and headed out to a bookstore a couple blocks away that I've passed numerous times since moving here. The Strand Book Store sits at 12th and Broadway, and it is pure magic. It's now my New York safe haven. My place I go to when I need to relax or when I need a little room to breathe.

I stayed for at least an hour, just walking around and exploring. You can't exactly spend a rainy New York afternoon reading poetry when you don't actually have any poems, so I ended up grabbing a couple books -- one of which is a collection of poems called Dirty Pretty Things by Michael Faudet. It's been just what I needed, curled up in my bed all day long overlooking 10th street. Poems make me happy. And today taught me that it's important to seek out things that bring you happiness, especially when the skies are sad.

CHAPTER 4: You are here.

“Manhattan in the morning is a living stream of purpose; everyone’s got a place to be and a problem on their mind. That doesn’t mean it’s an unfriendly place — just busy and preoccupied. Personally, I love it.”

— Laura Anne Gilman

Fun fact. Sometimes I do this thing where I make a concerted effort to remember the exact moment I'm in. I try to look at myself and my surroundings as objectively as I possibly can, and I list them. Where I am, what I see, what I feel right then and there. It only takes a few seconds, but I actually narrate it to myself in my head. "You are 22 years old. You are in New York City. It's a Saturday morning and you walked for almost an hour until you hit the end of this island. You are sitting on a bench at Battery Park Harbor and you are looking at the Statue of Liberty. The sky is blue and so is the Hudson. The wind is blowing and you have your favorite sunglasses on. You just hung up from a FaceTime call with your parents who love and miss you so much. You're alone but you are so happy. This is your life today. You are here." I try to be as descriptive as I can, so that I recognize and appreciate every single detail. I've found that if you take a few seconds to really immerse yourself and root a memory in the moment, it's easier to look back later and remember the moments that mattered. 

It rained yesterday. But Times Square lights up twice as much when the screens reflect off the wet sidewalks, so I didn't mind too much. I ventured to East Village for dinner last night. Ate at this place called Fish Bar and it was sooooo good. Now when I walk down the street and I look like I know where I'm going, it's normally not pretend anymore. I'm starting to get my bearings and it feels really good. Also, my roommate is awesome. Heading to Brooklyn this afternoon to adventure and grill out with some new friends. I've heard it's an awesome part of the city and I can't wait to see it... And possibly share it on here. Yee yee.

CHAPTER 3: Soccer on Baseball

“In New York, they like winners. They don’t like second place.”

— Eli Manning

Round two: Today I found the dining hall before 8:00am. I might have spilled my drink and tripped over a chair in front of everyone, but my oatmeal was free. I aced the subway and accidentally got to work 30 minutes early. I completed my first design project for Nickelodeon International (!!!). I ventured to the Bronx and watched a soccer match be played on a famous baseball field. I met up with old friends and made new plans for the weekend.

I don't plan to write on this blog every single day, but I plan to write whenever I feel something relevant has happened to me. Given that I'm in New York City, that could be every single day. But that could also mean that I don't write for a few days at a time. Today, I spent a solid forty five minutes on a subway that was packed so tight it was actually uncomfortable to breathe. While stuffed on a subway car on the way to the Bronx with a hundred other strangers, I noticed something. Some of the people in that car make more than I might make in my entire lifetime. They're dripping in diamonds and gold and designer names. Others around me probably make less than I have in my pocket. Their eyes don't leave the floor, they hold plastic grocery bags full of their belongings, and they speak in tongues I do not recognize. So many people and languages and backgrounds packed into this tiny little space. But I love the way we all sway the same way to the curves of the subway. Life can hit everyone the same; life doesn't care who you are.

I also love the way some strangers take to other strangers, and make friends with people who might only cross their path for five or ten minutes out of their lifetime. Striking up a conversation with someone they're shoulder to shoulder with on a commute. It's such a small thing, but it's so big. People told me that New York is a cruel place and that it will make me harder. Less gentle. Less caring, "Katy, you're going to come home with that New York City attitude." But there is humanity in the people I pass on the street. Everyone in New York is by themselves, but no one is ever truly alone. It is the common misconception to believe that New Yorkers are all cutthroat, but I have glances on the street, neighborhood dogs, and conversations on the subway that say otherwise.

NYCFC lost, in case you were wondering (about the professional soccer league in New York that I didn't know existed before today). We root root rooted for the home team in the Yankees stadium, but it did no good. Good news is, tomorrow is Friday. Which means the start of my first weekend in the city. And I think that one's definitely going to be a win.

CHAPTER 2: Day 1 was A1

“One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.”

— Tom Wolfe

Brief overview of my first day in the Capital of the World: Woke up way too early without an alarm. Paid way too much for breakfast because I couldn't find the dining hall. Took the wrong subway, which carried me in the exact opposite direction than I was supposed to go in. Miraculously made it to work on time. Ate lunch on our company patio that overlooks Times Square. Got settled in my office and made some friends. Watched an exclusive screening of the new Ninja Turtles movie. Walked two miles home, straight down Broadway. Loved the walk so much that I kept going and discovered Washington Square Park, where I discovered this lovely quote on the ground.

New York isn't a very easy place to be. My feet have blisters and my regular at Starbucks costs $8 here. I'm subway stupid. Also, I tried to go into a CVS but I couldn't find the door. (Y'all, I literally walked the entire perimeter of the store. The whole block. This is not a joke. There was not an entrance and I am still so flustered.) But as trivial as my first day was, I can't remember a better day that I've had in quite a while. Today was an adventure and I loved every second of it. New York has this weird kind of magic about it, and as I was walking through Washington Square Park this evening, I found myself thinking about how I can't wait to go again tomorrow. I can't wait to wake up and see what happens next. Finding this quote in the park was the perfect ending to my perfectly unperfect first day. My abilities might not be 100% up to the NYC challenge just yet, but I choose to see the best in it. I choose to get better and try again tomorrow, and hopefully take one less "L" in round two than I did in round one.

CHAPTER 1: 31,000 Feet

“I didn’t know the city at all, but I was so happy to be in New York I cried. I was so excited.”

— Greta Gerwig

I'm 31,000 feet in the air and I've tried to start this blog post four times. I'm trying to figure out what exactly I want this blog to be about, and I’m struggling. I'm a little out of my element on this one. Study abroad blogs are easier. You write about the places you went, the things you saw, the things you did, and a lot about the things you ate. But what do you do with New York City? This is the Capital of the World. People all over the globe dream about this place. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. It's all glitz and glamor and fashion, and I'm here for a job. I am here to work. I mean, don't get me wrong I am going to slaaaay here. The food and the people and the adventures I am going to come across are undoubtedly going to change my life. But there's so much that goes into this place, how do I choose a direction of what to write about? Is that even possible?

If you choose to stick around for the next few weeks, you'll probably find this page riddled with raves about food and rants about public transportation. You'll probably hear about the hard knock life of living in a dorm with strangers, the lack of sleep, and the stress. But you’ll also hear about the the looking for lovely, the fantastic things I find, and the magical little moments where New York takes my breath away. This is going to be a blog about my life and times in New York. These posts are probably going to be eclectic and frustrated and romanticized, just like this city. I'm too indecisive to be professional and choose a blog direction, and I can't figure out a single writing theme that unifies all of New York (and honestly, knowing New York, I feel bad assuming there is such a thing) so you'll find me writing about all of them.

I am out of my element, but I'm breathing. I am nervous, but I am so ready for this. I don't know how the next ten weeks are going to go. But there are a few things I know to be certain. We are landing. I am 22 years old and New York City is now my playground. This is going to be hard. But this is going to be so so fun. I am brave and I am relentless I am going to make it here. This place is going to change me, and I cannot wait to be better for it.