The Big Apple

I made it to New York City in one piece, with an hour plane delay in ATL (could’ve been worse). I woke up extra anxious this morning. Not in the, “Oh my gosh I can’t wait to get there” anxious, but “What the hell am I doing flying to New York with nowhere to live?” Plus I was extra anxious about this hostel situation especially since the only one with space still left in it for the week (since I booked it last minute) was one that has co-ed (gender neutral) rooms. I spent all weekend praying that I wouldn’t be sharing a room with some random dude having to keep one eye open all night in paranoia. Luckily those prayers came true and my roommate is some girl from Korea whose name I will butcher not only in spelling but in pronunciation. I hope she’s staying for awhile and not leaving to be replaced by said sketchy dude.

So now I feel a lot better. The hostel isn’t AS sketchy as it could be and the upside is I’ll get a lot of exercise walking up and down 5 flights of stairs. And, no matter how overwhelmed I was leaving my house this morning and arriving in NYC this evening, I had to remind myself that less than a year ago I was in a huge city, riding public transportation (which had no maps and no google map search available to route out the way) and staying in random places—but everything was in PORTUGUESE. I managed then. I was a bit of homebody and played it more safe than I probably would have if I had simply had a trusted companion, but I did explore and have fun (albeit subdued). But if I can manage in Portuguese I can manage in ENGLISH in the US with many familiar faces. Although, I forecast the struggle to not be a homebody and read a book or watch stuff on the internet will continue—especially given how BROKE I will be this year.

So here’s to trying to break old habits…they die hard