I’m watching snow fall in Colorado, thinking about what I’m missing in New York. After one canceled flight and three attempts to reschedule, I’m beyond caring if my flight tomorrow morning is canceled. I’ve tried to go back to the place I’m temporary trying to call home for the last week. Atleast I’m stuck in a place that really does feel like home. A place where my mom still covers me with a blanket if I fall asleep on the couch- a place that HAS a couch. My sister makes me tea and we laugh about the silly stuff. My life feels more simple here. I sleep. I feel healthy. I have real conversations with people. I’m myself here, at this place I call home.
The cat I grew up with is making an elderly cry and vanilla tea steeps at my side. Each finger of heat escapes from the cup, crawling towards my nose. Winter is here after weeks of waiting. Christmas arrived without snow, but it didn’t fail to bring my loved ones together. It had been six months since I last seen my family. Wrapping my arms around my grandpa after visiting him in Houston, where he’s undergoing treatment at MD Anderson, was a hug I had been waiting for — a hug I had really hoped for. Seeing my dad after months of late-night phone calls was instantly comforting, and seeing how much my little brothers have already grown since August was remarkable. Time goes by and life changes, but the love of my family does not. 
My grandpa. He's amazing. :)
New York City has opened my eyes to possibilities and taught me more than I could have imagined. I’ve only been living in the city for six months, but I already feel stronger and more capable. One of my friends told me that living in New York City is like a bootcamp for life, and I couldn't agree more. I already feel more street savvy. More secure. Driven.
I came here to go attend one of the best culinary schools in the country and I've already accomplished so much more. I arrived with enough money to support myself for a couple months without a clue of where I was going. I landed a serving job within three days and quickly gathered enough courage to navigate the subway system on my own. I wandered. I got lost. I cried the first time a foreigner yelled at me. My manager told me it would take three months before I would start to feel comfortable. I tried to stay optimistic even though I felt like the city was kicking my ass. I continued to put myself out there and did my best to connect with people.
I'm happy to report that I now have friends. I still have the job after five months of watching other employees come and go. I'm already in level three of my culinary program! I can't believe that. The five flights of stairs leading to my apartment aren’t nearly as challenging as they used to be and the subway system no longer feels overwhelming. Working doubles doesn’t exhaust me and lunch shift under 250 covers is a cake walk. I'm getting the hang of it.
The city has also taught me some important lessons. In a city built and run by thieves, you're the only person you can really trust. It took a $400 pick-pocket, the theft of an iPod, and the lose of a phone to realize that, but I've learned my lesson. Even though I feel on constant guard, the city will occasionally surprise me. I lost a camera and my ID on New Year's Eve and a man sent me a Facebook message on New Year's Day saying that he had found my belongings and would gladly mail them to me from Westchester. I was completely surprised.
New York City has also given me a small glimpse of world. I walk down the street in my neighborhood and I sometimes hear up to five different languages. So many cultures are represented here. Most people speak atleast two languages and usually three. Living here has put the rest of the world in perspective for me.
It's only been five months! Crazy.
