New York, New York

Two weeks from now will mark an important milestone in my life. Hint: I was born in 1996, which was eighteen years ago…Now who could this be?

Wrong! It comes right after my 18th birthday. Ready?

I will fly on a plane for the first time in my life.

I will be going to New York (thus the picture of the funky looking giant statue), the land of overly expensive rent and cheap pizza. Home of the Empire State and Lady Liberty. Hipters, T-shirts,  wide berths around strangers, and individual island accents. I can get my groove on in Brooklyn, take a train to Coney island, and spend hours walking the streets where Humphrey Bogart, Sammy Davis Jr., and George Gershwin walked.

For three days. In tightly controlled groups of four for only a few hours at a time. Because I’m going with my choir. Actually, we’re only allowed to walk around Times Square near the hotel. So I won’t even be leaving Manhattan. They outlawed everything fun (eg. illegal and promiscuous) that we could have done in the hotel. No drugs, no booze, no sex. Not that I’m remotely cool enough to do any of that, but the option would have been nice. It would have been nice, man!

But back to flying on planes. Sort of surprising that I haven’t been on an airplane in all eighteen years of my life, right? No? Not surprising?

Well, both my parents are pilots.

Okay, they each had pilot licenses at one point or another in their lives. The point is that flying is near and dear to the both of them. And why have I never been on a plane? Because “it’s not that great”. Maybe New York won’t be either.

Actually, we’ve never had reason to go anywhere that can’t be driven to. But all that is going to change.

In fact, I’ll be flying again in April. This time to look at colleges (the ones that are stupid enough to let me in) on the East Coast. I’ll be checking out Drexel in Philidelphia, and oh, am I going to try those cheesesteak sandwiches. If, on the off-chance, someone at the NYU admissions department accidentally puts my file in the acceptance box, I’ll be visiting the Tisch School of the Arts. And if Northeastern University doesn’t deny me, I’ll be in Boston doing whatever people in Boston do. (Seriously what is Boston famous for besides Harvard?). This is all code for, “I’ll only be going to Philidelphia to look at Drexel.”

So, after 18 years of sporadic road trips up the West Coast, and rarely leaving my small-town bubble, I will be traveling. 

And with all these adventures coming up, what am I most excited about?

Hotel swimming pools.



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