A New Yorker? Me?

Hello everyone out there in Internetland. My name is Eric Bishop, and I am a New Yorker.

After four months of living in Brooklyn, it still feels odd to say that. For the majority of my life I've been a Chicagoan, and for the most recent five years--an undergraduate degree and change at Duke--I've been a faux-Southerner. But a New Yorker? Aren't New Yorkers supposed to have dark-rimmed glasses and vaguely ethnic faces and important-sounding jobs? I have none of those things. (Hopefully a job soon, more on that later.) But yes, in June I moved my things up here and started an internship at Esquire. I was living the dream. I'm not sure I was really a New Yorker, though, until late August, when I cursed out a complete stranger in a subway station. Everyone's got their New York Moment--mine just happened to erupt fiercely and publicly, in front of several confused onlookers. 

So here I am, along with my girlfriend Katie. Together, I'd say we make a fine couple of bloggers, inadvertant gentrifiers, still-potent musicians, semi-journalists, absentee voters (NC for Obama, baby) and unlikely New Yorkers. We like it here. I think we'll take our shoes off and stay awhile.