Right Where I Belong

Beyond the other sun worshippers, dog walkers, and Frisbee players I see soldiers clad in white and navy with badges and honors sitting in cafes and walking the streets with their families, friends, and girlfriends that they haven’t seen in months and could possibly never see again. As I lie in the lush, green Central Park grass with University of Kentucky water bottle in tow, I reflect on Memorial Days past, and what I am missing today in this big concrete jungle of a city.





No longer just a day off of work, an impromptu cookout, or an afternoon on the lake, Fleet Week in NYC is a reminder to the people of New York of what this day is all about. This day is especially important on the very island that is home to the sacred Ground Zero where this entire war was launched. Thank you to our brave heroes who gave their all so that I could have it all.

It has been a while since I last blogged about my experiences here as a Southerner in the big city, and I’ve had lots of time to think about how different life is here and how these opportunities and experiences will affect my career, relationships, shoe collection… In my short three month work experience here with a prestigious interior design firm, I’ve had my hands on hotel projects in NYC, DC, Geneva, Jakarta, Toronto… I’ve met many talented designers and learned so much about design and the type of firm that I would like to own one day. This is just the beginning.

I feel so blessed to have such a strong network of supportive loved ones, and leaving the south was hard for so many different reasons; I still can’t help but to believe that all of this will be worth it in the long run, wherever/whatever may come. So, whether my journey here ends in 3 years or 30 years, my heart will always belong to the south.



Supper:  Veggie dogs, puhtayta salad, fresh tuhmayta's, and sweet tea!



Sure, I could’ve stayed south of the Mason-Dixon close to my loved ones, earning a paycheck that actually paid my rent, but I would be missing all of this. So I don’t have a Wal-Mart, my veggie “soysage” costs exactly two times more, I get violated by way too many strangers each morning on the subway… I can’t go to the lake, have an actual cookout, or chase fireflies. But what I DO have? Well, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. (That is unless the deal included moving NYC a little farther south)

Today was a fantastic day. I still had a chance to get a great sunburn, spend time with wonderful friends, and have a good ol’ southern cook “in” on my pink George Foreman grill. I am truly blessed for those things that I do have, but I’m even more blessed for the PEOPLE and experiences that I have. I’m so thankful for the service men and women fighting each day for the blessings that I have. I’m lucky (once again) for a supportive network of family and friends who encouraged me to chase my dreams, even if they carried me 900 miles away. Of course there have been moments of disappointment and uncertainty, but God has opened so many doors to point me straight to where I am, and I have a peace knowing that this right where I belong.

It Pays to be Southern

It seems as though not a New York minute goes by without someone asking you for something..

“Would you like to get married? I’ll cook for ya!” –Homeless guy in Union Square

“Will you swipe me in?” –Hippie with 3’ dreads in the subway station, where my card was empty and I was at the wrong station.

“Can you spare some change?” –Every other person you see

“Excuse me, do you live in New York?” –The same guy on the same corner at the same time, asks me every. Single. Day.

“Do you have a business card?” – Guy on the train who is a celebrity bodyguard. Don’t fall for this. He is NOT interested in being your “business contact”. He is more interested in being your “business” contact.

Daily, without fail, I am asked for something else that I am actually willing to give: my southern hospitality.

Many New Yorkers long for this breath of fresh air. They are actually surprised when I answer their questions, or say “pardon me” or “thank you” or even something as simple as smile at them. You see, these are not things that the typical New Yorker would ever do to a complete stranger. You’re more likely to get flipped the bird rather than a friendly wave. It is not because they are mean or rude (for the most part), it is because they are in a hurry, and you, my friend (the tourist) are in their way. They are late for their train, they’ve already been asked 15 questions, and they haven’t even had their second cup of coffee.

This southern warmth I’m speaking of often spawns another series of questions…

"You’re not from around here, are you?"

"Where is that accent from?"

"Are you from Texas?"

Because that warmth is so refreshing, even appreciated, I have found that it often lands me opportunities many New Yorkers may never have. For instance… the day before my birthday, I got a free cookie at the pizza pie joint (thought I’d throw in a little NY slang for you) in Grand Central Terminal, because I mentioned to the guy that my birthday was coming up.

Last week, I got free wireless internet. The cable guy came to install when I was moving in, which technically he isn’t allowed to do because we didn’t have our TV yet. (He installed anyway. Obviously because I'm a southerner.) He also did not come with a wireless router on his work order, which would be an extra $50 charge plus $6/month on top of our astronomical cable bill. But for me (sweet southern belle that I am), he would install the router for $50 cash and we would never see it on our bill. I mustered up the sweetest smile I could, emphasized my KY twang, and mentioned that, “Oh my goodness, that would be so great! But,” (frown face, pouty lip…), “I only have $16 cash and some Easter candy…” I left it at that, hoping he would install it anyway. Well, he did. And I sent him on his way with a huge “thanks SO MUCH!!”, $16, and a baggie of mini Reese’s Eggs.

I believe that a big smile and a little hospitality never hurt anybody. But please tell my grandma that if anyone does try to take advantage of it, I’ll be sure to have my pink pepper spray handy.

The question I’m asking now: “way-yer will this ak-seynt will git me next?”

P.S. I purchased a mirrored dresser, side table, and headboard for $195. They need a little doctoring-up, but after some love will probably totaly closer to $350. Anyway... If I bought the extact same look from Pottery Barn, I would've spent closer to $2,000. This partially had to do with my southern-ness. Pictures to come.

WELCOME TO NEW YORK - Now, those are words that I never expected to see as I - or should I say Greg - drove my Ford Escape "home" with the past 26 years of my life crammed into it. NYC is a place I had always looked upon with wide eyes as a fantastic city to visit, shop, see Broadway shows, shop, try amazing restaurants, and shop. I never thought that I would actually live there.


To my surprise, as my 7.5 year educational career came to a close, NYC was exactly where I wanted to be. I decided that the experience, the designs, the culture, (and yes - the shopping) are all things that I had to get a taste of while I was young, single, eager to learn, and seemingly fearless.


So here I am. Actually... Here, I am not. You see, moving to the Big Apple isn't exactly as easy as just deciding "I think I'll move to NYC today." I am currently in my aunt's living room, perched in front of the UK vs Indiana game (Go Cats!)... In Wallingford, CT. Today concludes week 2 of my New York experience, and I don't even live there yet. Why? Oh, I'll tell you why - on my 2.5 hour commute home one day next week. That should be ample time to share some thoughts on living with that crazy lady from Craigslist, meeting celebrity bodyguards on the train, Occupy Wall St. protests, and days when I forget to put on my deodorant.


82-73 Kentucky with 6 minutes to go... CATS CATS CATS!!