24 months and counting.

Two years in Manhattan, today. It was a Tuesday. We moved into the city with a 12-foot UHaul filled with not much of anything substantial, into a not-so-substantial (but cute) 1-bedroom apartment. Mike navigated through China Town to get to our building on Wall Street, often only having a few inches of clearance on each side of his Pathfinder & the trailer behind us. It was an adventure, just driving in. The city was noisy, crowded, bustling. We were young, naive, fresh. The last 2 years have been an adventure. To say the least.

2 years later. I've learned how to walk not only more quickly, but more strategically. 2 years later. I've become more assertive, oftentimes feisty... Maybe too much. I'm trying to maintain the softness that I came with, but sometimes that is difficult in a city that is so calloused. 2 years later. I'm more intelligent. I've learned a lot in two years- about this city, about me, about my potential, about people outside of my comfort zone, about business, about life with a husband. I've mastered the use of chopsticks. 24 months has changed me into a full-fledged a-d-u-l-t (I think).

I love New York. I love the people. I love the food. I love the variety in everything. I love the smell of Central Park in the spring, small bags of roasted nuts for $1 and loved living a block away from the financial capital of our country. I love walking everywhere. I even like the subway. I hate driving. I prefer to be driven. I don't miss grocery shopping (most of the time). I love cupcake wars. I don't mind walking in rain storms. I know what it feels like to truly appreciate a full-size dishwasher. It has been a good two years.