The Escape.

Apparently there's a mass exodus from New York. It can affect those in their mid-twenties, through the early thirties. Reader, beware.
Symptoms include: restlessness and a sudden impulse to see what else is outside of New York.
Yes. This is epidemic is true, in the last two weeks I have either experienced or heard approximately seven people in search of pastures (greener or not) gather their U-HAUL and hit the road, Jack.
And, yes these folks are friends so in some respects my fear of this epidemic slowly infiltrating my inner circle is like a animal-lover with arachnophobia cornering a spider; terrified, but compassionate that they need to live to.

It's hard to digest the idea that your dream of New York and the reason why people come here doesn't satisfy the appetite of others. I can't think of a time when I didn't want to live in New York, I mean from movies always staged in this city that seemed to stem love and endless promotions, who wouldn't want to live here?
I remember in high school; when I went through my contrary period (aka hanging out with bad influences) and I had this archenemy, let's call her Esheda. Now, Esheda was what someone could call pretty, but her attitude was so ugly. She used to prank call my house, threaten to start a fight with me at school so my record was scarred, oh and my favorite she use to taunt that no matter what "I couldn't be her." Little did this girl know I knew the kind of person she was and her status at school and empty threats were the last thing I wanted. That year, I decided - I'm moving to a place where insecurity isn't the motivator, but ambition is - I'm going to New York. And once I had that in my mind, her yelling at me in the hallway, or teasing me I just heard those Charlie Brown teachers "womp, womp, womp womp womp..."I had to stay focus, a pit stop in Charlottesville for some down south education and I was in the home stretch.
So I guess like any pseudo-small town girl, New York was a city to experience everything that wasn't my normal. I just knew I was going to be the displaced Shaker Heights girl that kept her 216-number, but saddled up with an attitude and coffee permanently in her hands walking through New York streets. I had to believe that the anxiety, better known as high school drama, wouldn't pull me down. But, you know, that's just my story on why I came here - I can't speak for anyone else and clearly my experience was unique. So, for the friends that do choose to move along and find their normal, discover what their everyday will look like, I can't be mad, I can't be terrified. I just have to hope my everyday matches what you see yours as being - happy, successful and exactly what you'd want to escape to.

How to Practice Safe Walking

It's a common belief that someone can be street smart, but not book smart or vice versa, but never both at the same time. I'm trying to disprove this common perception. First method is to impart my knowledge of safe walking, something I've learned. Unlike book smarts, street smarts never seem to be imparted on others, it's like a secret - something you can only learn through experience. Well I don't want you to have to learn the hard way about street smarts in the city, so here is my wisdom.
You have to remember I grew up in Ohio- Shaker, Ohio for that matter. Next to nothing happened without you bringing it on yourself; it's one of those towns that has rare sensational news (excluding the weather). So, growing up in Ohio the idea of "know your surroundings" could mean - be aware of deer crossing (if you see one, there are more, deer travel in packs). Or if you are taking the trash out late at night there could be skunks, coyotes, foxes?! In New York, being aware of your surroundings means something totally different: know which car the sketched out crack head is entering to avoid inevitable harassment on your commute, avoid the crack head lingering on the corner begging for change he might bump you and either transfer bed bugs or pick-pocket you, avoid the half way house because if that's not self explanatory there are probably crack heads there. Maybe the biggest challenge of being aware is knowing where the crack heads live and then out smarting them with avoidance or my new technique....

WAIT FOR IT

If you are walking alone and feeling a little unnerved begin talking to yourself that will send a message of "this one is crazy." This employs the strategy, if you can't beat 'em join 'em. The other day I began erratically talking to myself about a made-up friend Samson and laughing hysterically at my own jokes. Now, the crazy vibe you have to send has to be enough to permeate someone who's high, but not enough to look fake or vulnerable. You don't want "oh that one is special this will be easy" you want "holy smokes, I don't want to even know..." This will not work if you have head phones in, your conversation cannot sound systematic, it has to sound completely irrational, yet plausible. Make sense?
Wish I could patent* this technique, but instead I'll pass along as one of my helpful tips to surviving the city. I think this can work for anyone implemented correctly, coupled with these simple street smarts:

1. Don't walk down dark alleys
2. Carry mace
3. Don't look drunk if you are in fact walking home intoxicated (aka walk straight)
4. Run towards the police station - in NYC there's likely one within running distance
5. Most crack heads are off balance, last case scenario go for the shins
6. Don't forget your life is more important than valuables
7. Cross the street if you feel like you should - go with your gut
8. Don't walk in your house or apt if you think someone is following you
9. Make good choices

*Also cannot patent, because it was a helpful tip as down.