I moved to New York City sixteen years ago today, August 18, 1994. My first apartment had a Jennifer convertible sofabed, a card table, a mattress, an empty refrigerator, and a clunky princess phone. No computer, no e-mail, no cell phone (just a roll of quarters for the pay phone downstairs). That year in New York City, Rudy Guiliani was the (relatively new) mayor, a quick cab ride cost only $3, and there were no Metrocards (tokens only, please). I was two months into my first post-college job as a curatorial assistant at the Whitney Museum, and I slowly built a new social life while my college boyfriend and I were "on a break." I was 21 years old. It is hard to believe that I felt "old" at the time. Ha!
That first year out of college is a special one no matter which city you're in, I'm sure, but personally I think it is even more exquisitely experienced in New York City, where, like it or not, you're going to "live a little" in every possibly way. New York bombards you with people, places, experiences, sights, sounds, and smells 24/7. It's overwhelming at first, but it gives you a lot of fun stuff to recall later on. I look back at that time in my life with sweet nostalgia.
If you're a New Yorker and know what I mean, you should check out this book My First New York: Early Adventures in the Big City (As Remembered by Actors, Artists, Athletes, Chefs, Comedians, Filmmakers, Mayors, Models, Moguls, Porn Stars, Rockers, Writers, and Others). I flipped through it in a bookstore several months ago and I loved it. There is something so wonderful (and, to use a cliche, "so New York") about recognizing the same feelings experienced by contributors including Amy Sedaris, Andy Samberg, Chloe Sevigny, Kara Walker, and Parker Posey. The trepidation, the panic, and eventually the love affair that (often) sets in between you and this great big town.
My fellow New York City readers, how long have you lived here?
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