I’m not allowed to refer to myself as an actual New Yorker for another nine years, but I can already feel myself becoming one. I’m a not-quite-thirty year-old writer living in New York City after living in Wisconsin. For a long time. While I love the green pastures of Wisconsin and pristine waters of Lake Michigan, I love big city life more.
I came to New York last year with no job and no expectations. After a month of sleeping in and freelance blogging, I started waiting tables so I could afford to stay in my Upper East Side apartment. Someday, I will tell you all about that. Now, I work for one of the 50 Most Innovative Companies in the World.
I am passionate about many things and will try anything within reason and my price range. These are the questions that are always on my mind: What should I write next? What book should I read next? How can I oust the mayor of my job on Foursquare? Where can I go swimming in the city? Will I ever beat my best half marathon time? Which bar in NYC has the best beer specials? Why can’t I ever apply the AP chemistry I learned to my real life? How can I incorporate conversational French into my every day life? Why don’t taxis accept Metro Cards? Why is the waiting list for Green Bay Packers season tickets 38 years long? Why can’t I get over the ’90s? Why didn’t Matthew Crawley re-sign his Downton Abbey contract? Wherever did I put my graphing calculator? Can I ever publish a Modern Love column in the Sunday Styles section?
Also of note–I will do almost anything for a good gigglefest. As my exterminator always reminds me during his monthly visits, laughter is free.
This is a two-way street here, people. I don’t want to do all of the talking (although I will). Feel free to comment anywhere on this blog or drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org. (Just don’t close your email with “please advise.”)