Day 1 ( 8/15/2016)

Originally I was supposed to have a direct flight from PDX airport to JFK airport. Well.... that didn't turn out as expected. Instead my flight was canceled, set to a later time, and added a layover! Okay, okay. I could roll with it (after I cried a lot about it first). I woke up at 6:30am with my dad. We left for PDX at 6:45 and got there around 7:30. Check in was a breeze and baggage drop off was a breeze (although my bag weighed 70 pounds).
We followed the path to security and realized that it was now or never. My dad couldn't come with me through security, so this is where I had to say goodbye. Saying goodbye to my dad was the last one on my list -- but by far from the easiest. Thinking about Brandon hugging my mom, thinking about my dad's help, thinking about my brother coming over to say hi, thinking about crying for days on end with Emma about what we'd do without each other, thinking about the lake with Breonna, thinking about laying on the couch with mom and Joe. These are all hard things to think about, and I thought about them all as I hugged my dad.
I went through security with tears down my face, but I went through security. I got my things and found my way to my terminal. I had a lot of time to spare, so of course I called my mom, I called Emma, I texted Joe, and I texted my dad. This is my big move, and they only have so much time to talk. I let them get back to their life as I got back to mine. I read a book as I waited, and we finally boarded the plane.
Now I had a layover for about an hour in Seattle..... until we got stuck on the runway for 30 minutes due to fog at 200 feet in Seattle. Finally we took off and it was so cloudy for a few minutes you couldn't see anything. Once we got above the cloud, the view was amazing. The cloud looked like a thick layer of snow below us. Snow and sky. That's all there was.
The person sitting next to me was nice, but I didn't have time to talk to him, I had a 2nd flight to irrationally worry about. When we finally landed I had 30 minutes until my next flight took off.
I BOLTED it up the terminal ramp, down the escalator, in the under ground tram, up the escalator, and to terminal B3. I got there right as the first people were boarding -- perfect timing.
The flight went well. 5 hours. I slept through Pocahontas, listened to Frank Sinatra, watched Inception, and Listened to Fly Me to the Moon just as we could see the Empire State Building and took a dove for the landing strip.
Baggage claim was literally 3/4 of a mile away from the gate our plane landed at. I couldn't help but look all around me as I walked through the airport. Questioning if the people I saw were from Manhattan, or Brooklyn, or Queens, or maybe not New York at all. I questioned if they'd have a hard attitude, if they'd answer my question, or if they'd be like nice Oregonians. Everyone seemed normal and I felt like an outsider.

I got my baggage and found my driver, he thought I was crazy for moving to New York only 8 weeks after high school graduation. Driving through the city late at night made it harder to realize that I wasn't in Oregon. The buildings are older, the signs are flashier, and the construction is more extreme.
We finally got to Putnam Avenue and my driver dropped me off. I wasn't intimidated until I realized I had to carry a 70 pound suitcase up 3 flights of stairs. I was huffing. Puffing. Dripping. It was a sight, but I made it. I made it to my new home. It was a strange feeling. It is a strange feeling.
I put my stuff down and changed out of my air travel ridden clothing. Emily and I went and got pizza at a place down the street and my god was it good (maybe because it was New York pizza, and maybe because I hadn't eaten more than 300 calories all day). She showed me around Wyckoff which is the main street around here that has all the "happenings". She showed me where she gets on the subway to get to work, some places to eat, and some places to shop. She's really adjusted after only 2 months and that gives me hope.
When we got home Emily went to bed and I called my mom and pops. I told them how the day went and I asked them why I didn't just move out and get a job in Salem because that would be way less scary.
I've had the same dream of "making it big in NY" but I don't know if I want to do that anymore. I've kind of realized that I don't want to be rich and have a lot of things. I was to be secure and see a lot of things.
Moving here has been a big wake up call. And it's only day 1.