I moved to New York City on September 1st, 2008 to become the next Jackie O. I planned to work for Random House as an editorial assistant, climb my way to the top, and become known as a publishing genius. After sending out 50+ applications and attempting to ignore the recession my savings account was notably dwindling. I resorted to applying to some back-up jobs in retail. After sending out 5 applications in retail, I got 3 interviews: Trixie and Peanut, J. Crew, and American Girl. I agreed to all three interviews. I ignored the nagging feeling in my gut reminding me that my recently receieved college degree, a BA in history, was not doing all that it had promised to. It was supposed to get me a "grown up" job with an actual salary and benefits. I had no idea in May of 2008, as I considered what I thought would be my bright future, that I would spend the following year a slave to wealthy New Yorkers, making an hourly wage with the no benefits in sight.
I lived in Flushing, NY. Way the hell out in Queens, the very last stop on the 7 train. I lived in a large 4 bedroom apartment with three other girls. They, like me, were all in their early 20's, working a job or two in a field unrelated to their intended career. Between the four of us we had discounts at a variety of retail stores, and thanks to our one roommate with a decent job, insight into the financial world that is Manhattan.
It is now ten months later, I'm leaving New York City and moving back to my place of origin. However, I feel it necessary to document the life I lived in the Big Apple. The people I met and hated, the people I met and loved, and the stories that made my stay worthwhile. It's easier to report on the past than it is on the present. Time to properly reflect and incorporate just the right amount of endearing sarcasm. More to come...
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