So as my internship winds down, so does my time living on an air mattress on the floor of my brother’s apartment. It’s been a fun ride on the Upper West Side, but at last, I have found my new place of residence in the borough of Queens—the neighborhood known as Astoria to be exact. While the choice to move to Astoria was simple, finding the apartment indeed took some time. Overall, I am in good spirit and believe that the backache, frustration, and chore of finding an apartment has all paid off, and that I will be thoroughly happy in the place I have finally settled on. And what drew me to the place? A six-month-old golden retriever with a a big old grin greeting me when I entered. Always a sucker for a puppy dog face.
Okay, so it wasn’t just the dog that sold me on the apartment. The room itself is a good size for a New York apartment, and the people who already live there, well the one that I met, was very kind and welcoming, much like the dog. The location was also a key ingredient to my selection, as the apartment is just down the block from Astoria Park, where I will be sure to bask in the sunlight on the weekends and get a good amount of exercise done on the track and in the pool.
What else drew me to the area? A documentary that I saw a few weeks ago: Last Play At Shea, which featured Billy Joel’s very last concert at Shea—which was also the very last concert or event ever at Shea. The documentary followed Joel’s life, the years of the Mets at Shea, and the construction of the suburb—that Mr. Moses had hoped would become the city (though it never did). It made me really understand the history of Queens and how the city had been built, literally on ash fields. Being that I am from Pennsylvania, I knew not much about the history of New York and it’s boroughs before moving here, but as I get to know more—I begin to love the city more—making the end of my stay here beyond sight.
And with that: This uptown girl bids adieu to the magical museum on the corner of the subway stop, the Italian men who sell me a banana each morning at the corner of 83 and Columbus, and the child screaming below…It’s been fun West Side—but it’s time for me to go.