A Second Coming of Age

I finally find myself with a quiet to reflect. These moments, particularly in Tony Awards season, must be cherished.

This past week, I feel like I’ve been living in a Michelle Branch song…you know a bit angsty…

I spent two nights of the past week with two of my absolute favorite New Yorkers: Tuesday with my friend Richard at an amazing Cuban bar and restaurant in Midtown, and Wednesday at my friend Lisa’s adorable Park Slope apartment.

Over drinks and dinner, the conversation on both nights took an eerily similar turn, discussing the purpose of our lives, insecurities and, in my case, non-existent love life. We three are all in our 20s and experiencing that second coming-of-age so common amongst 20-somethings…especially 20-somethings in New York City.

We all three work in the theatre-industry and harbor great hopes and ambitions for award-winning career success. The first-step for anyone wishing to make it the Broadway world is to move to New York. A step that seems mountainous when you are coming from a small, lazy town in Maine.

The sensation one experiences moving to Manhattan: settling into your own hole-the-wall apartment and starting that first New York job is nearly indescribable. I did feel as if I had just conquered Everest, and that all was not just possible, but probable.

Just under a year later, I am bit dismayed to say I have not yet received the Tony Award, Oscar and Pulitzer Prize I felt were promised to me upon arrival. Nor have I yet been swept off my feet by a Dustin Lance Black-esque, 6’2” blonde boy promising me a classic Tiffany’s ring and a weekend “cottage” in the Hamptons.

Instead, I am a “9-to-5er” with an essentially non-existent love life just managing to pay the bills each month – with a couple of flavored margaritas mixed in along the way.

Okay, do not get me wrong. I am not in the slightest bit miserable or bitter towards life! Those who’ve heard stories know I work with crazy and fabulous people in the hottest entertainment ad agency – it’s really quite a fierce job. And my apartment is ridiculously large by Manhattan standards with a bedroom that is the definition of classic, cute, amazingness. I do feel incredibly grateful for what has been an amazing year; a year in which I have crossed a number of items off of my “To Do Before I Die” list.

However, as my friends and I discussed this week, when you live in the city that never sleeps, a city with so many opportunities and successful people abound, it is rather difficult to be completely satisfied. I do not think it is merely coincidence that the New Yorker of New Yorkers, Woody Allen so often writes about chronic dissatisfaction amongst the middle- and upper-classes of the Big Apple.

Until the day our awards finally arrive in the mail, we’ll take comfort in the affections and support of closest friends, the warm-glow that a strawberry margarita can bring and the awe the sparkling skyline of Manhattan inspires.

Thoughts, questions, concerns from my fellow angsty 20-somethings? Leave a comment, and until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.