The Kids Are Alright

I was at work earlier this week, closing shift. It was around 7 and I went outside to smoke a cigarette. (A nasty hobby, I know, but food service will do that to you) Naturally, I’m scrolling on my phone, Facebook, Instagram, email. And when I saw that domain in my recents, my heart stopped. I could only see the first line of the email cuz I didn’t have any data, but that was all I needed.

“I wanted to personally congratulate you…”.

I literally gagged. I ran back inside and yelled, “I just got into grad school,” to which everyone rejoiced loud and black-ily.

I’m moving to New York City and iss about to go down!

I’m too excited! With graduation just weeks away, I can’t help but feel like I’m on the precipice of the dopest era of my life. Firmly in my twenties, I’m out for adventure and new experiences. In the months leading up to getting my decision letter, I started coming up with plan B’s for if I didn’t get in. I was determined to get to NYC by hook or by crook and started researching job prospects in the city and cheap living arrangements. Even if I had to pound the pavement to stay there, I would do what it takes to sustain a life in my dream city. But now that I know plan A came through, I’m even more excited to move to a new city.

For someone who is quite introverted, being in a space where peer-to-peer interaction is a encouraged, like a classroom, really helps to lessen my social anxiety. And what better way to meet new, progressive-minded people than in the heart of Manhattan at The New School?

Momma, look I’m grown now, iss about to go down, my heart beating so loud…



I’m sliding into my season like ole’ buddy, here.

New York, New York

I fucked up and answered the waitress at the coffee shop with a “yes ma’am” and immediately blew my cover. Nobody says “ma’am” here. What killed me was the almost uncomfortable look that came over her face when I said it – a look that said, “You must be from out of town.”

Observation: When Wyclef said he liked his chicken wings fried hard, I honestly thought it was a joke. 

But nah, I ordered some chicken wings yesterday and they were fried hard as shit. Is that a New York thing?

They were good though.

There is no order in Manhattan. You’d think folks would walk on the right side of the sidewalk, the way we drive but no, it’s just an anxiety inducing free-for-all. 

Yet everyone manages to get where they’re going unscathed, for the most part. After a while, I could see the chaotic harmony in which people move here. 

Culture shock. 

I’ve always thought it’d be cool to live in New York but my first visit tells me that it’s going to be more of an adjustment than I thought. 

But with time, I think I could do it. 

The things that I find strange still have a certain charm that I can’t put my finger on. Even the smells.