It occurred to me that it might have been a good idea to start this blog in October, when I moved to the city, and I could have chronicled all my “firsts” in New York. Better late than never, of course, and I think it will be difficult to run out of firsts for a while. I know people who’ve lived here almost 5 years, and they still say, “I’ve never…” Also, I think it takes you at least the first year to become aware of things you should be doing, shows/events that take place annually that you should go to, and so you just make mental notes when you see the posted and go, “Oh, shit! I missed that?!?”, and you get ready for next year.

So, here I am, first summer in NYC. On Thursday, my boyfriend and I are going to Fire Island for the first time. (He’s one of those aforementioned New Yorkers who’ve been here 5 years.) We’ve been getting in a beach day once a week lately, just because it’s ridiculously easy to go to the beach when you live in NYC. And incredibly cheap (at least to get to one of the beaches. What you do after you get there is another story.) We’ve been going to Coney Island, where we got lucky on the first try and found a patch of sand that’s never crowded or noisy (and no, I’m not telling you where it is). Our visits have concluded with a beer and a hot dog from Paul’s Daughter, a stand on the boardwalk that has a line shorter than Nathan’s but with almost as much history. We decided to expand our New York beach horizons this week with a trip to Fire Island. He’s big on road trips, and I’m big on beaches, so it worked out beautifully.

A report on the trip will follow later this week. That, and maybe a little more about me and how I got here. Until then, good night New York.

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