Paranoia and the Big Apple
The application process for student visas these days is quite involved. Mine required that I make a special trip to the Spanish Consulate in NYC to present myself and a stack of papers; including a FBI background check. For a few months I felt stressed wondering whether my student visa application would be lost, burnt, eaten, stolen, or REJECTED . Paranoia even had me sleeping with the documents under my pillow in a NYC hostel the night before my appointment. I flew directly from Oregon to NYC for the presentation. My nerves were starting to get the best of me. Finally I reached the 30th floor of a Midtown building where I was ushered in warmly by a clerk. She glanced at a few sheets and told me to have a nice time in Spain. 
With my main task complete I was free to explore and enjoy the city. I was 16 the last time I went to NYC. My dad’s company had organized a bus trip for its employees around the holidays for some shopping. We were let off on Broadway, stopped in Macy’s and had dinner in Little Italy. 
On this trip I had more time; I spent 6 days wandering and museum hopping. I was on my own the first 3 days and walked endlessly, stopping here and there for a slice of pizza or to take a picture. 
I have always loved being a face in the crowd. Instantly I felt like I belonged. Sure people were wealthier and more fashionable than myself, but I felt a connection to individualist scene, people moving quickly, through huge crowds were somehow all in their own little worlds. I loved the shops, the art, the history. I stopped at quite a few landmarks; the MOMA for a little art fix. I spent a several hours roaming up in Central Park and down in Grenich Village. I felt excited to see NYU banners near Washington Square, although I have no idea where any of my department buildings were scattered. 
My parents met me near my hostel at Columbus Circle on the 3rd day. We drove through the tunnel into Jersey to check out a used Volvo dealership. After a few hours looping around in circles on the Jersey Turnpike we arrived and purchased a new car. 
With Jersey behind us we took a bus back into the city and walked 65 blocks to Little Italy for dinner. Our family had always gone to the same place, La Mela’s on Mulberry Street. This time I suggested we try something new. Sophia’s was inferior but not a total waste of time. We ate and headed back to our hotel, exhausted from our Jersey adventure. 
The next day we woke up early and headed to Rockefeller Center for a trip to the top. The views were stunning. The elevators rocket up and down the building all day. Before long we were at the base of the building walking around the plaza. We spotted a nice wine bar called Morrel’s and stopped for a bottle outside. 
Mom and I hadn’t had girl talk since December. A few glasses in and we were gabbing up a storm. It felt so good to be back with my parents and to spend a small vacation together. I thought the city might overwhelm my parents, but they seemed to have a great time. We fit a lot into a few short days; the MET, Guggenheim, China Town, some swanky bars for happy hour. I could see us going back again for another culture fillled adventure.
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