I heart NY

I was 12. I was 12 when I fell in love with New York City. It was February and I was visiting my Great Aunt Pat in Chelsea with my mom. At the golden, yet awkward, age of 12 I was - you guessed it - in town shopping for Bar and Bat Mitzvah dresses to be prepared for many a Shabbat of the simchas of my peers, plus my own. It was an unseasonably warm February day and the tulip stems had begun to peak through the bed of dirt outside Aunt Pat's apartment building. Maybe the smell of spring caught me. Maybe it was the endless shopping. Maybe it was the hustle and bustle. Whatever it was, I fell in love with New York and vowed to return.

Fast-forward ten years to New Jersey. I was finishing up my final semester at Rutgers University and commuting two days a week into Manhattan for an unpaid internship. I would wake up at 6:00 AM, hustle in my heels, sometimes through freshly fallen snow on Stone Street and Easton Ave., down to the New Brunswick train station, and an hour and a half later, I would arrive on the 36th floor of 350 Fifth Avenue. (You should Google 350 Fifth Avenue. OK, OK. It's the Empire State Building.) I was impressed by the revolving doors and excited that I could sneer at the tourists and be the cool one who was going inside. The truth is there was nothing glamorous about the entire experience, except that it was an experience. Whenever I smell burnt rubber I automatically associate it with New Jersey Transit train I would inhabit for two plus hours each day. I was also working in a gritty part of New York. The Fashion District isn't exactly a part of New York to be proud of. It's dirty, smelly, overcrowded, full of annoying tourists, but I kind of love it. Okay, I have a love/hate relationship with the Fashion District.

The goal with the internship was to land a job. April arrived and I had no job. I was graduating on May 18 and I gave myself one option: New York City. Oh, yea, a job and New York City. I applied and applied. Suddenly I found a friend who also wanted to move to New York. And she had a friend who was also in New York and wanted to move. And then suddenly one day we all met up and looked at apartments. We talked about living in Manhattan. But "talked about" was as far as it got. We walked around Park Slope. And somehow we meandered our way to Astoria on the G train. (This was my first and last experience with G train!!) We called a landlord for a place we found on Craig's List. It was a dream apartment. But, you can't sign at the first place you see, no? We looked somewhere else and realized this was a steal. A few days later, we were sealed. I signed the lease without a job.

A few days later, I got a job offer, which I accepted. And on May 18 I graduated. And on May 19 I moved into my apartment on 30th Ave. in Astoria. This coming Friday, I will move out of this very apartment and into my own place sans roommates. After nearly three years in the most wonderful city in the world, I have discovered more reasons why I love New York and many reasons that I never would have known had I lived in Manhattan all this time. Allow me to share...

• When the TV is off, I can often hear the brakes of the subway car and the next stop announcement for "Broadway" on a Manhattan-bound train from inside my apartment. Love it...
• The smelly fresh fish market across the street from the storefront with dead chickens hanging from the window display, down the street from Zagat-rated Ovelia.
• Hearing at least four different languages on my street at any given time.
• The view of the Manhattan skyline at night after the turn following Queensboro Plaza. Nothing beats a view of the lit-up Empire State Building and Chrysler Building.
• In the morning sunlight, right before the 7 train turns into Hunters Point. The multi-color graffiti in Long Island City, PS1 and the midtown Manhattan skyline in background. Sprinkle in a few Long Island City high rises to ruin the Manhattan view.
• Getting body-slammed nearly every morning transferring from the N train at Queensboro Plaza. The people who ride the 7 train are tough and forget that in order to get on the train, others need to get off first.
• Noticing a sharp demographic shift when leaving the N train and boarding the 7.