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We're leaving New York City. And it seems to be for real this time. A house may be purchased in another state within 45 days. And we'll be gone. But I will not give up my apartment here. No. Not yet. I just can't imagine this is really for good.
A little background:
When my boyfriend and I decided we needed a change, there were a few factors we considered. I had been toying with the idea of changing careers for a long time. But when you work very steadily as a freelancer as a location scout in the movie business, it's hard to justify leaving a job with such freedom . Even though I'd felt for a long time I was headed towards a dead end (not to mention, a financial ceiling), the job and the movie business plays tricks on the mind. It makes you feel like you're moving, yet not always moving forward. Because everyday has me searching for different locations, it can feel like I am changing, growing. And to a certain extent, I am. Every day is indeed different. I get to travel all over the place for work. Even scouting in NYC is a daily adventure. But I know, especially now that I'm pregnant (perhaps the biggest factor in our new considerations), that I can't keep up the scouting game forever. Nor do I want to. Although I really like what I do most of the time, I don't have a passion for it. And in the last few years, it's become more like a job than something I really look forward to. That spark has been gone for a while now.
On the other hand, my boyfriend truly loves his profession. As a genius when it comes to excavating and building things like houses and commerical and residential buildings, not to mention the man can fix anything- he feels he can take his work anywhere. And I agree.
Both of us have been in New York for over 15 years and he, for one is ready to go. He's ready to go and not look back. Me? I'm not so sure.
Is it love? I know I love him, but what about New York? Why do I have second thoughts every single day? Is it fear? Fear of change?
"This place is a *#@t hole! Get me out of here! I can't stand it anymore!" This has been a common and repeated sentiment throughout my tenure here. At least three times a year I will lose my mind a little and vow to leave and never, ever return to such an uncivilized place! But what could make me hate on my City so much? The last time I had an outburst like this was late June 2009. What happened?
1) I had a peeping tom on my fire escape
2) I witnessed a man standing (or shall I say, leaning) against a neighboring building with his pants down to his ankles- apparently using the sidewalk as a toilet.
3) A small family of pinky sized mice somehow broke through our anti- mouse security system and for a week while the traps did their ugly business, I was disgusted and afraid to return to the place I lived.
Immediately after the above-listed triple whammy came upon me in the course of four days, a list of all things negative about New York started taking shape in my head. The rats. The rudeness. The traffic. The filth. The neighbor who watched, laughing, as a crack head broke into a car instead of stopping it. The corrupt MTA. The goddamn construction of the 2nd Avenue subway ripping up the street and sidewalks outside my door!
It was too much. The mice in my apartment had put me over the edge.
"I live in a *#@thole! For the most civilized place on earth, why are we living like (and with!) animals?" I screamed as my boyfriend nodded in calm agreement. Within a month of this outburst, we decided to move. Out. Not to another apartment. Not to another neighborhood. Not to another borough. No. We decided, after three months of looking for a house in the Nyack area, to move to Charlotte, NC. A place we had never been to before.
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