I am a dreamer. Always have been. Ask my husband, though, and he'll probably tell you something different. Where I'm a more realistic day-to-day dreamer, he is a laying-in-the-grass, imagining-pirate-ships-in-the-clouds kind of dreamer. He calls me the "Dream Crusher". What a name, eh? But when he shoots for the moon with these off the wall ideas, I am the person who gently puts a weight on the idea and reminds him of reality and practicality. 

But I've had one of those pirate-ship-shaped-cloud dreams since I was a teenager. It all started with a movie. A silly movie that should've had me more enthralled with the Australian male lead than with New York City. Promise you won't laugh, ok?

You didn't laugh, did you? Anyways, that movie planted the seed in my mind. I couldn't sleep the night that I watched it and I immediately started planning my move to the city with my cousin, Katy, when we turned 18. Watching Violet, the main character, tramp all around NYC trying to make it made me yearn to do the same. That, coupled with ten years of watching these kids make it in NYC pretty much sealed the deal for me.

If Rachel can just show up on someone's door step and figure out her new life in The Big Apple, surely I can too... right?

Fast forward to 2012. I'm 25 and haven't lived further than three hours away from where I was born. I've followed stupid boys (or was I the stupid one for following? Another blog for another day...) here and there but I wound up back in Hernando, Mississippi. I am married to the love of my life (who wasn't one of those boys I followed around, believe it or not!) and our little family is about to become four-strong. So what happened to my dream?

It's always been there, mulling in the back of my brain. In those creative writing courses, I used to daydream about what it would be like to live in the big city and write for my groceries. I watch old reruns of Sex and the City and crave the tall buildings and seemingly infinite opportunity. I have visited both NYC and Chicago and let me tell you, either one would supremely satisfy this urge that's set up shop in my heart. When I had to leave those cities and come home, I left a little piece of myself buried there amongst the crowded streets, the picturesque buildings, and the quaint neighborhoods.

So what am I doing about it? I've decided that if I'm going to rewrite my stars, I've got to do something different. I've got to get away from the restaurants (although that's all I know so that's how I pay the bills, for now) and use what I went to school for. I'm sending out resumes and begging for an entry-level, unpaid internship at a literary agency, a publishing house, and pretty much any type of publication in Chi-town and NYC. I've probably sent 50 resumes and cover letters, explaining how Bad A. I am and why "x" company should hire me for free. I'm talking to people that live and work in the cities and I'm looking for an apartment. I'm dreaming all day, every day about how I'm going to get there and how I'm going to make it work once I do get there. JD has said that we can do this one day, when we retire. But I'm more of a "seize the day" type of person. Why do tomorrow what I can do today?

There are any number of obstacles in my path to get out of Mississippi. For one, I'm three months pregnant and that kind of makes me a ticking time bomb. For two, JD and I already have an 18-month-old whom we love with all our hearts.

Seriously - tell me that's NOT the cutest little boy you've ever seen. But nevertheless, the idea of moving with him is daunting. I'll have to figure out how to stick to his schedule while apartment hunting, moving, and finding a job. I'll probably have to find him a great daycare or an all-star nanny. And that's all okay... it's just a little daunting. Oh and not to mention our wonderful puppies. Hugo and Olive will go with us wherever we go so it should be interesting to find a place that allows not only two dogs but an English Bulldog that's 65 pounds. Not impossible... but another obstacle that would make a move unique for us.


Will this happen? Will I realize my dream? I'm not sure. What will I do when I get there? Will I be able to find a place to live and work? Also, not sure. What I do know is that I'll keep on dreaming. I'll keep stalking sites like jenhasapen.com and newnyers.com to eavesdrop on what their lives are like in Manhatten. I'll keep investigating what living feels like there. I'll keep sending resumes and begging for that entry-level position. I'll keep staring up at my pirate-ship-shaped cloud and one day, I know I'll look around and find myself in a shoebox apartment with four people and two dogs... and I'll be living a dream.