Things I own:A major crush on New York City. WAY too many CDs.
Things I don't own: Stephenie Meyer's characters, and anything Twilight related.
BPOV:
My first morning in my first apartment on the first day of my brand new life began with a kink. In my neck.
I hadn't brought a bed from Forks because the shipping prices were astronomical. With the $900 a month I was paying in rent (extremely cheap by New York standards), plus my security deposit, airline fees and my current unemployed status, I was trying to spend money on only the essentials. Unfortunately, at this moment, a bed was not an essential.
I slept on a group of pillows in the center of my bedroom, surrounded by a maze of boxes that were half unpacked.
No one tells you how truly glamorous life in New York is, I thought.
I hopped from box to box until I found my toiletries and clothes that I thought were presentable enough for me to wear job hunting. What do you even wear to interviews in New York? I wondered as I desperately wished I had Carrie Bradshaw on speed dial. Or even SJP. I wasn't picky.
I found that with some hot water and a soundtrack blaring courtesy of my iPod, that my troubles could easily take the backseat while I got myself ready for the day. Instead of focusing on the negatives, I decided to focus on the positives: I'm in the best city in the United States. I am surrounded by more great music than I could possibly ever hear. I have my own apartment. I love life.
Before I stepped out of my apartment, I jotted down the addresses- and subway directions- of the magazines and newspapers where I intended on applying. With a stack of resumes and recommendation letters safely tucked into my messenger bag, I stepped out into the sweltering heat of summer in New York City.
My job hunting expedition was a bust. I knew that finding employment would be hard, but I hadn't counted on every magazine and newspaper being staffed with security guards at the entrance dictating who could enter the offices. I was denied entry at SPIN, the job of my dreams, as well as the Village Voice, and the Canarsie Courier. I would prefer writing about music, but with the luck I had today, I guessed I'd be lucky finding an entry job answering phones.
After my disheartening afternoon, I decided to go to the epitome of sunshine and happiness in the city: Central Park.
It'd been 24 hours since I'd talked to anyone from back home, and I was feeling the strains of loneliness. I decided that I'd try to strike up a conversation with someone. Was that normal, I wondered? Growing up in a small town dictated that no one was a stranger and everyone was approachable. One thing was for sure: New York was not Forks.
I was admiring the Alice in Wonderland statue off of 74th street, when I heard someone scream "Stella! Dorian! No!!"
I turned my head to find the source of the noise, but was instead greeted with two tiny and fully-dressed long-haired Chihuahua puppies bounding into my leg as a tiny girl chased towards us. Stella, I take it, was wearing a doggy ballerina outfit (complete with tutu), and Dorian was clad in a punky-striped sweater. Only in New York, I thought.
"I am so sorry!" she gushed as she gracefully stopped right in front of me, reaching down to regain the dogs' leashes. "Stella! Dorian! Tell her you're sorry!"
The dogs looked off behind me as I saw a squirrel sauntering on the edge of the woods behind the statue. "That's okay, that squirrel is a dirty tease," I giggled as I reached out my hand and introduced myself. "I'm Bella. Your dogs are adorable."
"Thanks so much!" she said as she shook my hand. "I'm Alice, and these are my babies! I knew they were going to be trouble today. Dorian wanted to wear the tutu, but I tried to explain to him that he's a boy dog and that boy dogs don't wear tutus…" she prattled excitedly as she picked up both dogs and adjusted their outfits. "Do you have any pets?" she asked excitedly. I got the feeling that Alice didn't do anything at less than full speed.
"Nope. I just moved here yesterday, so I'm still trying to figure out my life before I bring a pet into it," I said as I petted the dogs.
"Are you living with friends?" she asked.
"I actually don't know anyone here," I admitted as I looked downward. Once I said it aloud, I realized exactly how lonely I might be in a city of a 19 million people.
"Don't look sad," Alice said brightly, "Because now you have three friends! Let's walk," she said as she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.
And I was afraid I would be the forward one!
As we walked around Central Park, I learned about Alice's background. Originally from Ohio, she had moved to New York to attend Parsons The New School for Design. She had graduated the same year I had, and was working on an accessories collection to shop around to major department stores in the city. Whoa.
"Bella, you're so nice! Would you like to have dinner tonight?" she asked as she looked at me expectantly. "…If you don't have any other plans," she added unnecessarily.
"My extended family and I have weekly dinners, and we're always looking for more company."
"That's very kind, Alice, but I don't want to intrude on family time," I said, praying that I would be let off the hook. She was extremely nice, but I was awkward enough as it was without the opportunity of clumsily knocking an aunt's glass of wine into her lap or catching a napkin on fire with the flame of a candle.
"Nonsense! I insist that you meet us at Firefly tonight at 8," she said as she began digging around in her large purse for pen and paper to write the address and her phone number on. "My family will love you."
"Thanks, Alice," I said through a deep blush. There was no getting around it.
We said goodbye and parted ways. I headed back to my apartment to Google the restaurant, hoping it was within my price range, and figuring out what sort of attire would be required.
My eyes bugged out of my head as I viewed the restaurant's fancy website. I dressed in my best approximation of New York chic, stumbled out the door to find the subway, and hoped for the best.
Author's Notes:
Whoever could Bella be meeting at the restaurant?
I think you'll be pleasantly correct.
This chapter was a little slow, but all necessary. Because, as you know, putting your life together doesn't happen in a single day :)
Title from: "Holiday" by Weezer (Blue album FTW!)
