Day 3 as a New Yorker

I'm sitting in a cozy coffee shop with old fashioned shelves full of old fashioned books, and lovely, upbeat jazz music dancing out of the speakers. I'm envious of all the outfits being worn around me; I definitely need to step up the fashion. First purchase will be a tote bag big enough for my laptop that has black silhouettes of birds and tree limbs, currently hanging from a silver hook down the street at a store called the Minimarket. It's $28, and I feel like that's splurging. My thrifty tendencies will definitely be shocked by the adjustment to NY prices.

Life is so different in just a few days, yet it feels weirdly comfortable. Taking the subway that once scared me shitless (um, once meaning only two years ago), transferring at Union Square to the 4/5/6 to go nanny on the Upper East Side. What a different life those people live! My parents will be so confused when I tell them the stories of 10-year-olds with Iphones, birthday parties at rented out laser tag mazes, and all the teeny tiny dogs sticking out of thousand dollar Gucci bags. It seems as if everyone on the Upper East side has a ridiculously small dog!

Fortunately, the family I'm working with is quite nice, and more down-to-earth than the others. And they have a very cute, medium-sized dog. The mother is sweet and appreciative of me, and the kids fun and silly. I'm caring for two girls, a pre-teen (or tween?) and a freshman in high school. Quite a large leap from the baby I cared for in Boston! But I like it, and it's an interesting opportunity for a close-up look at the life of Mannahattanites without subjecting myself to the whims of crazy mothers. And wow are they crazy. After one day, I already feel inducted into the "Nannies for Rich New Yorkers" club, having met a few during pick-up at the super fancy private Catholic school. One nanny was frantically handing out party invitations, another complaining about her pay being docked in order to purchase said Iphone for the child. It's indeed an interesting job!

My apartment is located two blocks from the center of Hipsterville, also known as the Bedford L stop. I walk around slightly in wonder, with open eyes and absolute delight at the amount of strange people, fun clubs and weirdo restaurants I pass. Then I remember that I'm in the land of hip and hipsters aren't wide-eyed, so I try to turn my looks of glee into looks of uber coolness. Usually I fail and end up laughing at my own ridiculousness. I wonder if I fit in or if it's obvious I'm from Mt. Washington, KY! Not that I completely care. I'll admit that I care a bit, but more than anything it's a fun game to dress up as Miss Hip and see if I can pull it off successfully. And I do like me some vintage clothes.

I think about lying by a bonfire on my friend's horse farm as a bored, 15-year-old in KY, wondering how the hell I would ever get out of my drugged-up town. Never dreaming New York, this mysterious city I saw in the movies that seemed so terrifyingly large and, according to my United Baptist parents, so naughty and sinful, would be my home one day. To all high schoolers out there: I swear it gets better.