Meet Eugenia...

Overlooking Lower Manhattan. Brooklyn, NY

Hi, my name Eugenia and I am a New Yorker. Ok so I wasn’t born in New York, but I’ve been here for 15 years, and I’ve been through ALOT in this city…and I think that makes me a New Yorker. There are always debates about what constitutes a New Yorker. Some say its after 5 years, some, if you have lived here longer than anywhere else. I say…if you have truly struggled New York style, no matter how many years, you are a New Yorker. If your idea of a normal workweek is 55+ hours and your daily commute includes being crammed into a tiny subway car while “It’s Showtime!” blares into your ear, you are a New Yorker. When you have spent several years in a 5 floor walk-up that you still have to share with a roommate to be able to afford rent, even though you are in your mid 30s, and your share of the “affordable” rent is still more than many people pay for a mortgage on their 4 bedroom house in other parts of the country...you, my friend are a true New Yorker. You have earned this title, and if you have had multiple careers in multiple industries and now have countless contacts that begin to overlap throughout those different industries…this is when you start to realize you have made a home for yourself in New York City. This is what makes the idea of leaving New York so scary. 

Playing my first baby cello at the age of 5

I have lived in New York City for 15 years…and I have been terrified to leave for about 10. Yes, the word I use is “terrified”, because it IS terrifying. There is something that happens once you have passed a certain time frame in this amazing city. You begin to fear anywhere else you could possibly go might be boring, or not enough, or worse…that if you leave New York you have failed yourself, or given up on the one thing that made you move here in the first place. I think many of you New Yorkers can relate to this thought, which is what inspired me to start this blog. NYC is special; it’s unlike anywhere else on earth. It is a place that people move to, to accomplish big things. They have their heart set on a dream and they come to New York to make that dream a reality. They don’t move here because they eh… kind of, sort of wanna try singing, they move to New York because they want to be on Broadway, or make millions trading on Wall Street, or become partner in a world-renowned law firm. They come to New York because they want to be the best of the best in their field. For me, that was musical theater. I was raised in a small town outside of Anchorage, Alaska by two incredibly talented dancer parents, the youngest of 6 musical siblings in an environment where music and dance consumed most of our days. From as early as I can remember I wanted to be on Broadway. I would watch The David Letterman Show in High School, fascinated over the bright lights of Times Square and the excitement going on in New York City, and count down the days until I would move to the Big Apple to realize my dreams. For most people, the thought of moving from a small country town half a world away to a massive city like New York would be frightening, for me it was invigorating and when I graduated college and the day finally came to leave Alaska I was far more excited than scared. I was pretty familiar with New York City having had visited my brothers who were studying at Juilliard at the time so I had an idea of what to expect. Not only that, the dream in my heart of being on Broadway was so big there was nothing else I could imagine wanting for my life. 

I was fortunate to move to New York during a time when Manhattan was still affordable, still gritty and still so much fun. I moved into a 2BR railroad apartment in Hell’s Kitchen and I remember the excitement of a 5-floor walk up, a kitchen that was IN the living room and my neighbors being so close they could see right into my bathroom. It was everything I had seen on TV and nothing like where I had grown up. It was SO New York.and I was in Heaven. I moved in on an unseasonably warm October day when the smell of summer and warm trash humidity was still in the air. Only a New Yorker can understand the comforting smell of warm trash humidity. We especially love it in the late spring when the first smelly, warm trash day is a true sign that summer is on it’s way and the city has finally thawed after a long winter. I moved here in October of 2004, I had flown over 4,000 miles from my tiny town of Eagle River, Alaska with 2 suitcases and a cello, and as I looked around at the people laughing and felt the incredible energy of the city, I thought to myself…”I’m finally here”.

To Be Continued…