Figuring out what exactly that change should be, though, well that has been the tough part.
The family asked me to move to Israel with them as soon as they told me they were heading there. They said they'll pay my way and will continue hinting at me going with them up until the very day they actually fly away. Obviously it's a pretty amazing feeling knowing that they're dead serious and love me just as much as I love them. And it's awesome to realize I'm not living in some sort of fairytale land thinking I've had the best first-time nannying experience possible; I actually just did. But I can't really picture myself moving to Israel. I'd be a complete fish out of water. The kind that gasp for air and flop around all helplessly because they obviously don't quite fit in with their newfound environment.
I'm quite frankly just about over living in the city right now. I moved here close to five years ago, at the ripe old age of 20, and I became infatuated with the place as soon as I stepped foot on it. But after years of forking over the price of a MacBook every month to live in an apartment the size of city bus, I've begun to feel more annoyed and inconvenienced rather than completely in love.
I want to be able to buy a beer for $3, god damnit.
I want to roll the windows down in a car, blast the radio, and sing at the top of my lungs.
I want to be able to take a DIY project out back to spray paint it gold instead of attempting to do said painting in a tiny kitchen with every window open and sheets covering ever possible nook and cranny while I try not to pass out from the fumes. Not that I've done that or anything...
I want to forgo the smell of boiling milk and rancid dog piss while walking down the street in the summertime.
I want to be able to go swim whenever I want. Not fork over $50+ for rooftop pool access or have to take a train from Penn Station to get to a body of water bigger than a dog's piss puddle.
I want to not see homeless men's dicks hanging out of their ripped up pajama pants first thing in the morning.
And the list goes on and on.
I'm fully aware that there are a ton of positives to living in Manhattan and numerous things that I'll obviously miss the shit out of about New York. Cough, anything and everything being delivered straight to my door at all hours of the day, cough. But for now I'm just over it and I'm ready to get out. Maybe leaving for a little while will make me miss being here and cause me to realize how good I really do have it. I can't find that out unless I leave, though.
So the tentative plan, come end of June, is to move home (which is upstate near Ithaca) for the summer while I figure out what my next big step is.
I haven't lived at home since high school; I was right back in the city the day after I walked across the stage and got my diploma. I've never had my parents help in any way financially since before graduating college; it's been quite the opposite, actually, since my dad is ALL about making me learn the hardships all by my little ol' self. The man wouldn't even be a guarantor on my god damn apartment leases here, and that doesn't even require forking over actual hard cash! I've had to figure it out on my own or my city dreams were all over. And since I've been proving that I actually can do that, I figure it won't be the end of the world to mooch off of them a tiny bit for a couple months while I do some saving, right? Right.