It was ten years ago this week that I made my first trip to New York City. Barely halfway through my first semester of college, my friend from high school had invited me to join her and her parents on a trip to the Big Apple. When the plans were first being made, the world (and my mother) were still in a state of shock over 9/11, and both my parents weren't too thrilled with the thought of me missing classes since my grades were already not what they had been in high school. Promising to get my grades up and to return safely, I boarded a plane bound for the city I had seen so often in television and movies.We stayed at the Marriott Marquis in the center of Times Square, which I now know isn't the essential New York neighborhood all tourists think it is. We saw Rent on Broadway, shopped in Soho, went to the top of the Empire State Building, ventured down towards the still-smoking Ground Zero - all things rarely done now that I live in New York City. It is a bit ironic that after that very touristy trip I knew I would someday call NYC my home. As fun as all the shows, shopping and sightseeing were, what drew me in was the spirit. The feeling in New York City is unlike any other. The pace, the culture and the constant stimuli all make New York one of the greatest cities on earth. I caught the bug a decade ago much to the dismay of my parents, and I moved almost five years ago with my parents still in disbelief. It has been far from easy, but I've always been proud that I made my dream come true.
No comments:
Post a Comment