I’m slowly figuring out how to have manhattan in my life while working in Long Island and living in dear Brooklyn. It’s been interesting. And by interesting I mean I have been actively grieving the loss of the city daily. This has led to fits of mental hysteria, answers and ideas to fix the situation ranging from quitting my job and traveling the world (ok, maybe that has to do with commitment issues more than anything), moving into the city immediately, finding the person of my dreams who happens to own a loft in SOHO (that fantasy has probably always been there) and finally, shelling out another $130 a month in transportation costs so I can easily go back and forth.
The last option is the most reasonable. It’s not even hysterical. Just expensive. All in all, I still spend less than I would if I had a car, and my body remains my form of transportation, which is key.
The point being, change is hard and I effing love manhattan. It’s funny. This is not a cool thing currently. It’s I finitely cooler than Long Island. But folks this days are so into Brooklyn. You’d think I had betrayed the early thirties posse by dreaming of manhattan.
But who cares about cool. I moved here for the city. Period. Early career moves are about dues paying. And I am dumping my chips in the bank that will one day love me into the city with a commute that only consists of walking. No subway even. I want that option.
In the meantime, viva la Long Island Railroad.