There's something to be said about a place where you can spend $5 on a loaf of bread, $13 for a movie ticket (matinee, no less) and hear 75 different languages all in the span of about 15 minutes. If I ever felt small standing next to the ocean, I feel about as big as an ant in this city, and though I have three months to take it all in and explore, I don't think I'll ever be finished. I haven't even started my internship yet, but that will be a whole other adventure to take in, one for which I am splitting my emotions between terror and elation. Terror that I'll fall flat on my face and be exposed as the green amateur that I am and elation that I actually have the chance to do just that. Since I am here interning with a group through the American Society of Magazine Editors, I have the opportunity to live and meet other people going through the exact same experience which is rare and unique and very comforting. Finally, I feel like everything I've been working for in college for 3 years is going to pay off and if I succeed this summer, then my plans post-bull dawgs will be set in stone - I have to live here, simple as that. I have to be here every day, walking these busy streets and paying too much for cereal and getting caught in muggy city rain showers on the way to the subway. I want it all. I knew when I was 16 that I would be a journalist, so sure of myself that I made no backup plans if I didn't get into j-school and listened to no one who tried to tell me I would get paid nothing and be miserable; and I am thrilled to have found the place where I know I will spend the best years of my life growing up and learning in this industry, climbing up the ladder until I reach the top. In the meantime, the view from the bottom wrung is pretty nice.
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