(Editor's Note: This is a continuation from last week's issue.)

Úquot;The first few weeks in Murray Hill were a complete shock to the system. Murray Hill is the epitome of Jewish geography. It's very different from the diverse collection of friends I had assembled in college,Úquot; Hyman said.

Murray Hill, for its small stake in the great urban melting pot, is astonishingly white. Almost 80 percent white, to be more precise. A staggering figure when you realize that Caucasians comprise only 44 percent of the total population of New York City.

In fact, the racial makeup of the Manhattan neighborhood mirrors that of the Village of Great Neck, which is 85 percent white, according to census figures. African-Americans account for only two percent of the population in Great Neck, and comprise five percent of Murray Hill.

Not surprisingly, Murray Hill, like Great Neck, is an affluent enclave. Its per capita income, according to census figures, stands at $62,344, nearly $40,000 more than the citywide figure.

Young, white, and rich. Throw in overworked, and the results of the most recent community survey conducted by the New York City Department of Health in 2001 seem nothing short of common sense. Alcohol-related hospitalizations occur twice as frequently in Murray Hill as they do throughout all of New York City. The rate of drug-related deaths is 40 percent higher in the Hill than it is citywide.

OK, so my broker omitted some key statistical data in his pitch about the Hill. In hindsight, I wish I had sought some demographic information before putting down my security deposit, though my mother informs me it wouldn't have made much difference. We faced a critical moment: the monumental move into my first apartment. My parents were comfortable with the neighborhood and, almost immediately after walking the Hill's infamous stretch of Third Avenue, I was too.

Úquot;Coming from Westchester, I have to say that at times it was quite comforting to be 'back home',Úquot; said Hyman. Murray Hill is, for many like me and Hyman, comfortable. The buildings are new, the streets are wide, and everyone at the gym looks like-and may very well be-someone you met at summer camp. It lacks whatever makes the rest of Manhattan so relentlessly urban, just as suburbs like Great Neck and Scarsdale, both directly within Manhattan's sphere of influence, possess a sense of cosmopolitan possibility.

w Úquot;This is like the chicken and the egg question,Úquot; said Gilbert, Úquot;What came first, the kids from Long Island or the type of neighborhood that the kids would move to?Úquot; She says she moved to the Hill because people she knew were already living in the area. Úquot;You were living here,Úquot; she jokes, accusingly. Úquot;Why were you living here?Úquot; Touché.

I could displace the blame and say that my roommates prescribed a painfully narrow radius for the apartment search and placed the locus smack in the heart of the Hill. I could also blame my parents-always feasible, though highly unoriginal-and say that they liked the area's proximity to the Midtown Tunnel.

Or, for all my whining, first about Great Neck, then about the Hill, I can just admit it: I needed to be reminded that home wasn't so far away. I needed to look out my kitchen window and see the entrance to the Midtown Tunnel, to pass a familiar face from high school in the shadows under the scaffolding near my building. I needed to meet my bunkmate from sleep-away camp waiting in line at Tasti-D-Lite. I needed to run into that old friend at the diner on 31st Street, simply because running into someone at the diner seemed appropriate and slightly nostalgic.

For me (unlike someone who fell into those disappointing alcohol-related injury statistics), Murray Hill provided a healthy transition. Úquot;It's all about being a part of community,Úquot; Ahdoot told me. Úquot;Everyone finds their own community and niche.Úquot; I needed to be part of the Murray Hill community to realize I had to keep looking for my niche.

Now, I live on a street with three digits, in an area residents call Úquot;MorningsideÚquot;-the fashionable way of admitting you live in Harlem without having to use the over-gentrified term SoHa (South Harlem). Harlem may not be the niche I'm looking for but, after my year in the Hill, I know I can always take a piece of home with me as I keep searching.

Most importantly, the transitional experience in Murray Hill taught me that I don't need to rediscover, redefine or reinvent myself. Thanks to Happy Hours on Third Avenue, chance encounters with old friends at the diner, and my window overlooking the Midtown Tunnel, I know that there are some things I will never leave completely behind. I am a girl from Great Neck. But I am also an urban-hipster-workaholic. Catch me on the right night and I may even be the life of the party.