I don't have a New York I.D. but I've yelled at a stranger. I'm legit.

I’ve gotten past the first month, first job and almost through my first summer in New York. It’s been tough at times but I now officially consider myself a New Yorker, I can point to an apartment and say, “See that gray building? That was my first apartment here in New York.” I noticed when I moved here; everyone likes to talk about where they’ve lived, where their first apartment was and how they decided where they live now. I’m officially a part of that club!

Riding in a cab past 26th st. on my first day as a permanent employee of Agency Rx, I excitedly pointed out that Grey brownstone I called home for my first 6th months to the new, Vice President of Account planning who pointed out almost immediately the first apartment he lived in as a married man. It was also the apartment where his first baby came home to and it was also his last home in Manhattan. We share more than a cab that day, on our way to the midtown office of CDM, two strangers from 2 different generations and 2 different rungs on the corporate ladder were able to share one common thread and one moment of reminiscence. Obviously, our career paths were already and would remain similar but that’s not so much personal, what we shared in the cab was personal and an cherished detail of each of our lives. Both apartments marked beginnings and in a way ends.

Driving past 244 e. 26th st, I was reminded of the first day I walked up those stairs to check out the place. It was February and the city was being drowned with freezing rain. It was my second week in the hotel and I needed to get out. I trudged up 2nd avenue from a 6th floor walk up in the East Village that was absolutely not where I was going to live all the way past Stuy Town (pronounced Sty) Park almost a mile in this freezing shower, my umbrella quit working about a half a mile earlier and I was a wreck. The tips of my hair were icicles and I remember thinking to myself, if this girl is even half normal and close to my age, I’m moving in tomorrow. I walked in, looked at the room. It was small and furnished with a twin bed and a floor lamp, the apartment itself was a tad on the un kempt side – there were cracks I was constantly terrified roaches would crawl out of and I spent most nights there thinking bugs were crawling on me but I took one look at Irene who was laid back with a relaxed demeanor and I just blurted out, I’ll be your room mate if you want to be mine – we agreed and 2 days later, I moved in.

It was a great first apartment and not nearly as scary as I just described it – honestly I only encountered a few bugs and only one crawling on me. What, it builds character and will give me bargaining chips just in case I ever end up having kids!