the feeling of home + the end of an era

My room, my corner.

This is going to be my last post on this blog. It feels scary to say that, but I think it's important that the last post I do is before I leave New York, and that I move on to other blogs, other websites - a new start.




On this blog: "New York Michelle" has been a wonderful place not only to preserve memories of my time here for the future (and I will certainly look back through this blog like one would a journal or a photo album), but also as a reminder. It served as a reminder to keep treasuring every moment I had here, that New York (and briefly, France) had endless exciting things to do, things that were worthy of picture taking and story-telling, and that I should go out and do them, and report back.

People talk about the problems with the publicness of blogs, and how this very publicness prevents a true journal/diary quality. I agree. But I also think that knowing you, readers, were out there, expecting photos of new tasty eats, new interesting sites, made me want to find those sites, eat those bites, and report back. While people say that with blogs and social media we all just "live online", I think this blog speaks to how very flawed that theory is. Having a blog encouraged me to "live in the world", and specifically "live in New York".

On home: For the past two years, the East Village has been home. The area from Houston to 14th Street, from the East River to 4th Avenue, has been my playground. I drank my coffee in my neighborhood spots, and grew to know which ones had the nicest coffee slingers, and the best music. I knew where you could get brunch on a Sunday at noon and not wait, where to get the best Indian, Thai, Venezuelan, Italian, Chinese, Moroccan and Ethiopian food within a 15 minute walk. I had my dry cleaner, my magazine shop, my neighborhood bar. Living in the East Village for me, meant living in the center of New York life. It meant a true neighborhood feel, mixed with the absolute smorgasbord that is the area. It also meant rats, long walks home from the subway (Avenue C is quite off the map), dog crap everywhere, and an occasional sleepless night kept up by bizarre street noise (a fist fight, someone drilling into the pavement at 3am, a couple shouting at each other right outside my window). But isn't that what you want out of New York? A mix of the poetic and the obscene, the glitzy and the grimy.

On leaving: When I moved out of my apartment last week (I  temporarily relocated to Harlem while I finish up my last week of work) I felt that I had already left New York. My time in New York had become synonymous to living in the East Village, and frankly, I like that very much. Leaving my place on 10th street felt like one of those break ups where you know it is for the best, but it still just sucks. I was saying: "I know this isn't working, I'm not happy here, and its not where I'm meant to be. But I will always keep you in a special part of my heart". I've been back of course, to go to this fantastic pizza place, to grab a confetti cookie (the newest addition) at Momofuku Milk Bar. But it didn't feel the same. Living somewhere is so different, so intimate. The memory of life in the East Village will sit in that special part of my heart, for real.

On the future: So ready for you, future! Toronto, you look so sweet to me right now, and I can't wait to be reunited with your shops, your food, and most importantly, your people. I know it might be weird initially, and you'll have to be a bit patient with me as I adjust, but it'll be home again soon enough. I look forward to brunches with lady friends, and afternoon beers on patios with JG, and snowboarding, and free healthcare and lots of time with you all.

I will probably have a new blog or website soon enough. In the meantime, find me on Twitter. And please free to flip back to Michelle's Super-Awesome NYC guide if you want a reference of my top picks.

And because it's me, let me leave you with a song. Take it away Mr. Richman...