My Arrival

I'm sitting on my bed in my new bedroom, on the new new street, in the new city called New York. It has been a long day full of emotions, travel and hunger pangs. I've been up since 8 a.m. working to get my gear in order for my flight at 12:38 p.m. I was careful to spend as much time with my grandparents, cousin and aunt before I said my farewell. They drove me to the airport, but the goodbye was not as difficult as I had envisioned it to be. I suppose that my frequent absence being in Gainesville, and having to say goodbye before I left to London have given my family a tough exterior that makes it easier to wave goodbye as I pass through security.



I was fortunate to get on the first flight out of West Palm Beach airport considering I flew on standby. It felt like a long flight, but I think it was the anxiety to finally be home that made it feel longer than necessary. Upon arrival, I was the first to get my 3 massive suitcases from baggage claim and managed to haul them to the taxi queve. I've become quite the pro at managing large luggages and maneuvering them through metropolitan areas (i.e. London, Italy, Paris...now New York).

I jumped in the cab with an young (Indian) driver, who as luck would have it had no idea where my final destination was. My apprehension began before I even landed because I was told cab drivers could potentially scam me by taking me the long route to my apartment and charge me an absorbent amount of money for the ride. I didn't want my first experience in the city to be a terrible one, so I asserted myself as best I could as a native New Yorker. However, when he asked me the best way to get to my destination...he pretty much new I was new in town. He turned out to be an honest, hardworking young guy-- genuine. He took me to my street and the price was standard and fair. I even gave him a good tip, so the experience was nothing as I had envisioned it. The only downfall was he managed to drop me off 3 blocks from my actual apartment, so I had to lug the 3 suitcases of (51 lbs., 40 lbs, and 30 lbs.) 3 blocks to my apartment. I arrived earlier than anticipated and phoned my friend Dara (who is also my roommate) to let her know I was at the door, but she was out to eat with her parents (because they are in town for her graduation). It did give me a chance to meet my building's super-- an older gentleman white hair, glasses and the faintest hint of a New York accent. He's a scruffy guy who walks with a limp, but on first impression seems "grandfatherly."

At this time of my day its around 6 p.m. by the time I am let into the apartment and I can see my new room. It was much, much larger than I had remembered it to be, and has a great layout to it. There's plenty of room, a small closet and shelving behind the door. Hardwood floors, high ceilings and white walls make it nicer than some of my previous abodes I've inhabited. It's just large enough for me to get everything I need and live comfortably. The area is also a lot nicer than I remembered. The street is lined with renovated brownstones, recently flourished trees and is reminiscent of what most people think of as a typical New York street. The location is pretty prime too, on my way to Target (2 blocks away) I saw a Crunch gym, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, and a large indoor/outdoor mall with various stores-- and that's all just on the oneway street I live on-- Saint Felix Street.

I'm trying to ward off a bit of a cold I feel coming on, so I'm trying to take it easy tonight. It still hasn't hit me that I'm really doing this-- I'm really living in New York just as I always wanted. It's all so excited. I wish I could find a better word to describe it, but there just isn't. I mean this is going to be my life from here on out. I'm a New Yorker.