"If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere..."
I'd say I did make it in New York.
Sure, I eventually left, calling it quits, let me up I've had enough, but I made it through fourteen years of New York, New York.
So...aren't I supposed to make it anywhere now?
Why haven't I made it in LA yet?
How long will it take?
I remember thinking it took me three years for New York City to feel like home, when I didn't feel unsafe every night out by myself. But the truth is, I was unsafe, and got my wallet stolen, harassed on the street, and forcibly intoxicated into grayzone rapey scenarios. And that was three years into living in a new city in the same state I grew up in, with the same job, the same roommate, and lots of familiar faces from college.
What have I here? Familiar faces I never get to see. Unstable, transient job assignments. A depleted retirement account. A whole new, exotic coast with its own history and culture.
But I also have a fabulous apartment I love, wide open spaces, a set of wheels and at least a half tank of gas - all in the Land of Opportunity.
I don't know how long I have to give LA before I have to give up on it. I love LA but I don't think it loves me yet.
Then again, I don't think it knows me yet.
Plenty of people who've lived here for a lot longer than me hate it here, yet they stay. Those are the people that should probably find somewhere else to sleep.
Wanting the Want, NYC Edition