Well, I've been here a week now - hard to believe. I feel totally at home, like it's been much longer. But then, in many ways I'm like a toddler having to learn all the basic things all over again. How to get around, where and what to eat, the best way to dress myself.
Everyone gets food delivered in New York when they're hungry for dinner, but I don't even know how to do that (do they take credit cards? how much to tip? How long do you have to wait?) I'll wait til my roommate's here to show me the ropes. So instead I decided to wander in search of a light, cheap dinner. I figured if nothing seemed appealing, my backup was the falafel place at 104th and Broadway, where a hot, fried-to-order falafel wrap is only $5.50 - but maybe I'd find something between here and there. I'd go on an urban safari. As I left the apartment, I encountered my predators: the Dominican boys who hang around on the sidewalk outside our apartment building. One of them surveyed my figure, grabbed my hand and introduced himself, calling me baby. I smiled bashfully, ducked my head and said nice to meet him, and then went on my way, leaving behind the tigers of the Upper West Side.
It was getting dark, and I was glad to be out at that time of night. I'd only walked in my neighborhood during the morning and late at night - and the early evening had a festive air. Today was a warm day, and New Yorkers seemed to be out reveling in the balmy night. Columbia students, Dominicans, African-Americans and the occasional young professional like me passed between one another peacefully on the street, all of us speaking our own languages and happy to be out.
There's so much to explore here - every walk I go on widens my eyes as I take in all the new destinations. I keep telling myself, there will be time (time once more to murder and create/and time for all the works and days of hands/to lift and drop a blessing on my plate), but my roommate tells me that in fact there won't be. That this is New York, and I should do as much as possible now since there won't be time later. Problem is, I barely know where to start! I take it in as I can, and I wander.
I settled on Roti Roll for dinner - Indian wraps of sorts that are only $3-$5 each. One makes a light meal or filling snack. I had a Palak Paneer (and borrowed the Thursday Styles from a cute Columbia boy while I waited). That's the thing here, when you're hungry there's plenty to be had for under $5. On 110 and Broadway there's the famous Coronet Pizza. Slices as big as your head and cheap. Open late. I realize as I pass that I've been there before. A friend from college took me there a few years ago on a one-night jaunt into New York. On broadway, I go into to one of my stores to buy a bottle of wine, but they don't have any. The next shop over (there are three great ones within two blocks of each other) had no wine - and it was a very gourmet place. I wracked my brain: did liquor laws here forbid alcohol sales in grocery stores? No, I seen it before.... Then I figured it out: New York spots are so small that most of them specialize. Groceries or wine, but not both. Food or drugstore, but no megashops like we're all used to. You want toothpaste, you go to the drugstore. Food, the grocery store. Flowers, the flower shop. Wine, the wine store. I found one across broadway and while there discovered a club I want to return to: it's called the Underground, and it's in the basement and looks very beat-ish. They had live music tonight and I'm sure they have spoken word poetry. If I can find an accomplice, I plan to invest in a beret and make it one of my hangouts.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Day 6
Woke early and unhappily to the sound of the buzzer blaring this morning. At first I thought it was the apartment phone - then I remembered that we don't have one. It was the USPS man, delivering the last of my boxes - at 7:30 am! Oh yes, he told me as I half-blindly signed the slip (didn't have my contacts in yet) - we start delivery at 7 am. Egads.
Spent the morning making my room into some semblance of a home. I realized it's about the size of the single room I had briefly senior year in college, so surely I can make it work. But no standard-issue college furniture to work around. No furniture at all in fact. Makes me kind of wish I had the college-issue stuff... Now I have a comfy bed, a closet full of clothes and the rest of the square inchery is boxes. But I know where things are. Kind of.
It was a pretty, sunny day but I stayed inside fretting over my room and over job applications, and finally I got fed up and escaped to Central Park. It was the first time I had been there and it's only a block-and-half away! And that block-and-a-half makes all the difference. Baby-faced drug dealers on our street give way to doorman buildings the tree-shaded parkside avenue that is Central Park West. I'm saving hundreds of dollars living that one block over.
Jen and I were supposed to go get mani/pedis but Lisa B. from Austin invited me downtown to a bar where she was meeting friends, so I convinced Jen to go to that instead, even though she'd just come from downtown. I hadn't been able to tell her not to come Uptown, since she was on the subway and didn't get my call. That's one of the few inconvenient things about New York, communication-wise: zero phone service on the subway. When will they install cellular towers underground?
We met up with the crew at a bar called Heathers, which loops the movie Heathers over and over and is self-consciously unpretentious. I liked it. They have happy hour during the week until 9, and it's two for one drinks - Austin prices in New York!
Then Lisa had to go and Jen and I followed the bartender's recommdation to a little Thai spot a few blocks down Avenue A, which must have been in the guidebooks because it was full of foreigners. But yummy! And Austin prices again. I think I love the East Village (it's where I can afford to eat and drink, but not to live).
Then it was home on the train as usual.
Spent the morning making my room into some semblance of a home. I realized it's about the size of the single room I had briefly senior year in college, so surely I can make it work. But no standard-issue college furniture to work around. No furniture at all in fact. Makes me kind of wish I had the college-issue stuff... Now I have a comfy bed, a closet full of clothes and the rest of the square inchery is boxes. But I know where things are. Kind of.
It was a pretty, sunny day but I stayed inside fretting over my room and over job applications, and finally I got fed up and escaped to Central Park. It was the first time I had been there and it's only a block-and-half away! And that block-and-a-half makes all the difference. Baby-faced drug dealers on our street give way to doorman buildings the tree-shaded parkside avenue that is Central Park West. I'm saving hundreds of dollars living that one block over.
Jen and I were supposed to go get mani/pedis but Lisa B. from Austin invited me downtown to a bar where she was meeting friends, so I convinced Jen to go to that instead, even though she'd just come from downtown. I hadn't been able to tell her not to come Uptown, since she was on the subway and didn't get my call. That's one of the few inconvenient things about New York, communication-wise: zero phone service on the subway. When will they install cellular towers underground?
We met up with the crew at a bar called Heathers, which loops the movie Heathers over and over and is self-consciously unpretentious. I liked it. They have happy hour during the week until 9, and it's two for one drinks - Austin prices in New York!
Then Lisa had to go and Jen and I followed the bartender's recommdation to a little Thai spot a few blocks down Avenue A, which must have been in the guidebooks because it was full of foreigners. But yummy! And Austin prices again. I think I love the East Village (it's where I can afford to eat and drink, but not to live).
Then it was home on the train as usual.
Monday, May 12, 2008
NYC Day 5
Was finally able to sleep until a decent hour today - after being woken early as usual by the clanking of our super with the recycling bottles in the air shaft, I went back to sleep.
Was the kind of blah gray day I hate, so I worked on my computer, and then the buzzer rang and it was the postman with 20 of my boxes. I was so excited to get all of my clothing and shoes after days of wearing my gold flats, alternated with galoshes and sneakers. My belongings are now scattered all over my room (which is tiny) and a few are in the living room - thank god I have tolerant roommates.
Later, I learned how to use the DVR, went to Pilates with my roommate and met up with Adam Rio, Samir's friend from Austin, to chat about New York and go on an impromptu walking tour through Times Square and then down to Union Park. We tried to use the city's only automatic public toilet at Madison Square Park (not affiliated with Madison Square Garden), but as a homeless woman informed us, it closes at 8pm. Instead we visited Starbucks for the bathroom and bought 40-cent 80-calorie double chocolate cookies.Adam enjoyed telling me all about the city - I learned things like whenever Broadway intersects one of the Avenues, there's a square. Union Square, Herald Square, Times Square and all the products of these criss-crossings.
I've been getting so much exercise here, walking all around like we did tonight and going to the cute little independent gym I found, which also has an affiliated yoga studio. Haven't been eating that much either - it's all kind of grabbing things on the run, and somehow all the moderate exercise makes a person less hungry.
But speaking of food, tonight I emerged from the subway at 103rd and Broadway hungry, so I walked north looking for something that was open. I crossed the street to a promising-looking falafel shop, which turned out to be open until 3:30 in the morning (It was about midnight when I arrived). An Algerian guy with kind eyes was the only one manning the shop and while he deep-fried chickpea paste to order for me he gave me some hummus and pita to try and we chatted about New York. He liked it okay, he said, though it was too big for his taste, and I sensed that he was lonely. Do you want to eat here? he asked, and I said no, I'd take it to go. He offered up a clumsy reason to stay, his mind roving off into unseen corners for the words - But the sandwich will be warm if you eat it here and cold if you eat it later... That seemed true, but I was tired, so I left rather than summon up the energy to stay and keep him company with my conversation. The food turned out to be very good (and cheap), so I'll be back.
Was the kind of blah gray day I hate, so I worked on my computer, and then the buzzer rang and it was the postman with 20 of my boxes. I was so excited to get all of my clothing and shoes after days of wearing my gold flats, alternated with galoshes and sneakers. My belongings are now scattered all over my room (which is tiny) and a few are in the living room - thank god I have tolerant roommates.
Later, I learned how to use the DVR, went to Pilates with my roommate and met up with Adam Rio, Samir's friend from Austin, to chat about New York and go on an impromptu walking tour through Times Square and then down to Union Park. We tried to use the city's only automatic public toilet at Madison Square Park (not affiliated with Madison Square Garden), but as a homeless woman informed us, it closes at 8pm. Instead we visited Starbucks for the bathroom and bought 40-cent 80-calorie double chocolate cookies.Adam enjoyed telling me all about the city - I learned things like whenever Broadway intersects one of the Avenues, there's a square. Union Square, Herald Square, Times Square and all the products of these criss-crossings.
I've been getting so much exercise here, walking all around like we did tonight and going to the cute little independent gym I found, which also has an affiliated yoga studio. Haven't been eating that much either - it's all kind of grabbing things on the run, and somehow all the moderate exercise makes a person less hungry.
But speaking of food, tonight I emerged from the subway at 103rd and Broadway hungry, so I walked north looking for something that was open. I crossed the street to a promising-looking falafel shop, which turned out to be open until 3:30 in the morning (It was about midnight when I arrived). An Algerian guy with kind eyes was the only one manning the shop and while he deep-fried chickpea paste to order for me he gave me some hummus and pita to try and we chatted about New York. He liked it okay, he said, though it was too big for his taste, and I sensed that he was lonely. Do you want to eat here? he asked, and I said no, I'd take it to go. He offered up a clumsy reason to stay, his mind roving off into unseen corners for the words - But the sandwich will be warm if you eat it here and cold if you eat it later... That seemed true, but I was tired, so I left rather than summon up the energy to stay and keep him company with my conversation. The food turned out to be very good (and cheap), so I'll be back.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
First a note on the colors and fonts of this blog: they're not where I want them to be at all. If you have any suggestions, drop them my way - I'm feeling big on greens right now.
Now for the post.
NYC, day 1
Woke at 5am in a cheap hotel snuggled up with Jason. I almost cried when I realized it was the last morning I would wake that way in a long time, but I had already cried a lot, so I resisted and enjoyed the moment. On the plane, sat by Texans (West Texans I think) reading the financial pages and conversing in twangy accents, and thought about how I would miss a lot of things, but not that sound.
The flight was a cinch, but once I arrived the hard part began, getting 80 pounds of luggage from outer Queens to the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I took the subway rather than pay $50-$60 for a cab, and let's just say I wasn't the most popular person on any of the trains I took. I actually got reprimanded by an MTA guy for keep my shoulder bag on the seat next to me instead of on my lap... I think I strained a tendon lugging the 50-pound suitcase up the subway stairs - I bent the suitcase's expanding handle, anyway. A nice guy with some kind of Latin accent carried my other suitcase up the steep subway stairs. New Yorkers have been kind, on the whole. More open to everyday interactions, I think. My roommate says she thinks that's true, but that it's harder to get to know people on a deeper level here. We'll see. Luckily I've already got several good friends here that I've seen over the last few days. My roommate is Jen, (she also goes by Jenny and Jennifer sometimes) is a lot of fun, too. We went to my friend Maria's Salsa party together last night. People like Valerie say they like to have me around because I'm an easy laugh, but Jen laughs way more than I do - a big, full, appreciative laugh at the littlest thing. No wonder the neighborhood Dominican boys who hang out on our steps are so smitten with her.
Speaking of them, they're a noteworthy bunch - at least for me. They loiter constantly and the front steps (they live in our building), and they're always bugging to Jen to come hang out with them and drink on the stoop. They smoke pot, too, but she doesn't. Today (after they bought me drinks in my first foray to a neighborhood bar) I found out they deal drugs. These are kids we're talking about - 19, 20, 21, 22. As Jen said, they make way more money than she and I will for a long time. That made me feel better about having let them buy me drinks, but worse about keeping company with them. And the funny thing is, they seem like really nice kids.
Last night when we came back from Maria's (my high school friend's) salsa party in Brooklyn around 1 am, the whole group was outside on the sidewalk drinking and smoking and being louder than you can imagine. A group of girls that also like Jen was there, and they were sorts I've never encountered before: loud, brassy, sassy, trashy, drunk, French-manicured and full of attitude. But they liked Jen and they were sweet to her. I quite obviously didn't fit in, but despite that, I've earned a nickname: "Houston." At least they got the state right.
So much has happened since I got here that I've hardly had time to blog, but here's a short synopsis:
Thursday evening I headed to midtown to meet up with Caitlin when she got off work. I arrived thinking we'd have dinner and catch up but instead she said, "Hey, we're having a work party and you're coming!" So we all trooped over to a nearby bar with her co-workers, many of them rather attractive young men (though I was turned off when I realized most of them were way more accessorized than I was - one wore a cap glasses, scarf, watch, American Apparel tee, designer jeans and sweet kicks).
I only bought one round of drinks ($5 per beer), but we stayed out until midnight on the rooftop bar and then repaired to the .99 cent pizza shop for a gooey slice with hot sauce. Then off to our separate subways, where my train proceeded not to arrive for 40 minutes - finally I left that station, walked to 42nd street and immediately caught the 1. Now I know to take the 1. It's the worst being drunk in the subway under the bright lights but there are two consolations: 1) most other people out at that hour are also drunk 2) it's New York - nobody gives a shit!
I think that's one of my favorite things about this city so far - the anonymity. I could walk down the street on my hands wearing a rainbow tutu and hardly anyone would even bother to look.
Friday it rained. That pretty much sums it up. When it rains in New York, you do nothing. You brave the elements with your sturdy umbrella (the kind with a lifetime warranty, which you will inevitably leave in a restaurant or on a train, necessitating the purchase of a cheap newsstand umbrella which will flip open in the wind and remind you why you bought the nice umbrella. You'll buy another one and repeat the cycle. Really there should be an umbrella exchange program, like the Yellow Bike program. You leave yours in a bin and others take it when they leave the building if they need it. Then when you leave, you take an identical one. If the socialists ever get their way in this country, maybe we'll have such a program).
So it rained Friday and i got absolutely soaked trying to buy toilet paper (and an umbrella) and then I went to Caitlin's office in Midtown to meet her for lunch and my shoes squished-squashed as i walked through her office. Not only was it rainy but cold as well and fully miserable. After a noodle soup lunch I made an emergency dash for the Strawberry at Penn Station to buy galoshes. I then wore my galoshes out Friday night, having packed all rain-appropriate attire in boxes that are currently en route across the country. My roommate said good luck getting any phone numbers in those shoes, but I got two! (one on the bus - a black man who talked to me about his work as an HIV/AIDS educator, and about gentrification - smart guy - and one from a very drunk firefighter from queens.
Saturday I opened a bank account and asked so many of the right questions about interest rates and such that the guy opening my account took me for a savvy native New Yorker - or so he told me anyway, maybe he was flattering me. Then I bought a bed - my first (and hopefully only) big purchase, because sleeping on a thermarest on the floor just don't cut it. It's indignity enough that my window looks out onto an entirely un-picturesque airshaft - sheer curtains are in order.
Saturday night Jen and I trekked out to Brooklyn for Maria's party, where I saw a girl I randomly remembered from Stanford, made two possible work connections and danced a little Cumbia.
Sunday woke up feeling like Johnny Cash - alone while all the families and couples paraded up and down Broadway. I woke early to meet the guys delivering the bed I had bought and after it was here felt a little down. Went to yoga and felt a little better. It's just the yin and the yang - go, go, go for days - stay out late drinking Sangria and don't sleep enough and it's natural to have a down day. Tomorrow will be my first full work day in a while - nose to the grindstone! I need to get me a job! But from what people have been telling me, I don't think it's going to be as hard as you might think...
Now for the post.
NYC, day 1
Woke at 5am in a cheap hotel snuggled up with Jason. I almost cried when I realized it was the last morning I would wake that way in a long time, but I had already cried a lot, so I resisted and enjoyed the moment. On the plane, sat by Texans (West Texans I think) reading the financial pages and conversing in twangy accents, and thought about how I would miss a lot of things, but not that sound.
The flight was a cinch, but once I arrived the hard part began, getting 80 pounds of luggage from outer Queens to the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I took the subway rather than pay $50-$60 for a cab, and let's just say I wasn't the most popular person on any of the trains I took. I actually got reprimanded by an MTA guy for keep my shoulder bag on the seat next to me instead of on my lap... I think I strained a tendon lugging the 50-pound suitcase up the subway stairs - I bent the suitcase's expanding handle, anyway. A nice guy with some kind of Latin accent carried my other suitcase up the steep subway stairs. New Yorkers have been kind, on the whole. More open to everyday interactions, I think. My roommate says she thinks that's true, but that it's harder to get to know people on a deeper level here. We'll see. Luckily I've already got several good friends here that I've seen over the last few days. My roommate is Jen, (she also goes by Jenny and Jennifer sometimes) is a lot of fun, too. We went to my friend Maria's Salsa party together last night. People like Valerie say they like to have me around because I'm an easy laugh, but Jen laughs way more than I do - a big, full, appreciative laugh at the littlest thing. No wonder the neighborhood Dominican boys who hang out on our steps are so smitten with her.
Speaking of them, they're a noteworthy bunch - at least for me. They loiter constantly and the front steps (they live in our building), and they're always bugging to Jen to come hang out with them and drink on the stoop. They smoke pot, too, but she doesn't. Today (after they bought me drinks in my first foray to a neighborhood bar) I found out they deal drugs. These are kids we're talking about - 19, 20, 21, 22. As Jen said, they make way more money than she and I will for a long time. That made me feel better about having let them buy me drinks, but worse about keeping company with them. And the funny thing is, they seem like really nice kids.
Last night when we came back from Maria's (my high school friend's) salsa party in Brooklyn around 1 am, the whole group was outside on the sidewalk drinking and smoking and being louder than you can imagine. A group of girls that also like Jen was there, and they were sorts I've never encountered before: loud, brassy, sassy, trashy, drunk, French-manicured and full of attitude. But they liked Jen and they were sweet to her. I quite obviously didn't fit in, but despite that, I've earned a nickname: "Houston." At least they got the state right.
So much has happened since I got here that I've hardly had time to blog, but here's a short synopsis:
Thursday evening I headed to midtown to meet up with Caitlin when she got off work. I arrived thinking we'd have dinner and catch up but instead she said, "Hey, we're having a work party and you're coming!" So we all trooped over to a nearby bar with her co-workers, many of them rather attractive young men (though I was turned off when I realized most of them were way more accessorized than I was - one wore a cap glasses, scarf, watch, American Apparel tee, designer jeans and sweet kicks).
I only bought one round of drinks ($5 per beer), but we stayed out until midnight on the rooftop bar and then repaired to the .99 cent pizza shop for a gooey slice with hot sauce. Then off to our separate subways, where my train proceeded not to arrive for 40 minutes - finally I left that station, walked to 42nd street and immediately caught the 1. Now I know to take the 1. It's the worst being drunk in the subway under the bright lights but there are two consolations: 1) most other people out at that hour are also drunk 2) it's New York - nobody gives a shit!
I think that's one of my favorite things about this city so far - the anonymity. I could walk down the street on my hands wearing a rainbow tutu and hardly anyone would even bother to look.
Friday it rained. That pretty much sums it up. When it rains in New York, you do nothing. You brave the elements with your sturdy umbrella (the kind with a lifetime warranty, which you will inevitably leave in a restaurant or on a train, necessitating the purchase of a cheap newsstand umbrella which will flip open in the wind and remind you why you bought the nice umbrella. You'll buy another one and repeat the cycle. Really there should be an umbrella exchange program, like the Yellow Bike program. You leave yours in a bin and others take it when they leave the building if they need it. Then when you leave, you take an identical one. If the socialists ever get their way in this country, maybe we'll have such a program).
So it rained Friday and i got absolutely soaked trying to buy toilet paper (and an umbrella) and then I went to Caitlin's office in Midtown to meet her for lunch and my shoes squished-squashed as i walked through her office. Not only was it rainy but cold as well and fully miserable. After a noodle soup lunch I made an emergency dash for the Strawberry at Penn Station to buy galoshes. I then wore my galoshes out Friday night, having packed all rain-appropriate attire in boxes that are currently en route across the country. My roommate said good luck getting any phone numbers in those shoes, but I got two! (one on the bus - a black man who talked to me about his work as an HIV/AIDS educator, and about gentrification - smart guy - and one from a very drunk firefighter from queens.
Saturday I opened a bank account and asked so many of the right questions about interest rates and such that the guy opening my account took me for a savvy native New Yorker - or so he told me anyway, maybe he was flattering me. Then I bought a bed - my first (and hopefully only) big purchase, because sleeping on a thermarest on the floor just don't cut it. It's indignity enough that my window looks out onto an entirely un-picturesque airshaft - sheer curtains are in order.
Saturday night Jen and I trekked out to Brooklyn for Maria's party, where I saw a girl I randomly remembered from Stanford, made two possible work connections and danced a little Cumbia.
Sunday woke up feeling like Johnny Cash - alone while all the families and couples paraded up and down Broadway. I woke early to meet the guys delivering the bed I had bought and after it was here felt a little down. Went to yoga and felt a little better. It's just the yin and the yang - go, go, go for days - stay out late drinking Sangria and don't sleep enough and it's natural to have a down day. Tomorrow will be my first full work day in a while - nose to the grindstone! I need to get me a job! But from what people have been telling me, I don't think it's going to be as hard as you might think...
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