On the Road Again

I'm in New York this weekend to say Happy travels and all that to a dear friend who is moving with her husband to Singapore. Since I am unemployed again and still a grad student ... I took the shuttle bus from LGA to the Port Authority. On the bus was a young girl from Sarasota with her friend and what I gather is her Uncle David, who lives in New York. The girl was here to audition for colleges, i think for musical theater.

They couldn't have been more excited about New York. The whole ride from Queens she kept saying, Is THIS Manhattan? and when we finally come out of the tunnel into Manhattan, she couldn't contain her glee. "Look at them, those New Yorkers, they LIVE here!" Every thing she passed she pointed it out (everthing from grand central to the Target Billboard in Times Square) she also mocked her excitement while enjoying it.

It was fun to hear. It reminded me of when I lived here, and even after being here for years and having days (usually in the morning fighting for a seat on the subway) when i would hate it, I'd still have those moments when I would think, "I live in New York" and every time it was a bit awesome (in the dictionary sense - not in the vally girl sense)

Still, I love this city

on the road again

(This ones for you JW.)

Why, although I do it ALL the time, I hate traveling:

stocking feet with the inevitable hole in the big toe or at the heel, on slick linoleum airport floors

people who put their shoes back on right at the point on the security conveyor belt where your stuff comes out, causing blockage from the line of people behind them, and forcing me to stand in my stocking feet just that much longer.

scratchy announcements about which rows are boarding that are illegible.

anyone pushing to be the one to enter the plane before me (come on people, we have "assigned" seats)

coach.

if you order a soda, the flight attendant gives the can. if you order a water, you get a dixie cup of water. give me the damn bottle!

baggage claim. children climbing on the baggage carousel and parents not stopping them. people who push me to stand on the edge of the carousel, blocking as many as possible from both viewing access of the baggage on the carousel as well as actual physical access.

Shuttle drivers who drop me off on the wrong side for the street, forcing me to roll my suitcase across 3rd ave while I'm are carrying a laptop, purse and my coat.

not having my cat sleeping at my feet.

showering in someone else's shower- trying to figure out how to turn the water on, how much hot is needed and how much cold, trying to find the spot on the tub edge for my shampoo, trying to figure out how to turn the water off.

not having the intuitive experience of the best way to walk to the subway, which stairs at the exit are the most efficient, which subway stop is the closest.

not having a badge for the office building and having to have a black and white digital photo taken of me that looks like I just smelled a fart.

carrying my laptop all over Manhattan.


why I love traveling:

seeing my friends

being in new york again

seeing my friends

seeing my friends.

commintment phobia?

Last night, I walked from 40th and b'way to 30th and 3rd.

Ten blocks south and 4 avenues east.

I realized that for me, New York is crammed with memories.

Old jobs, bad dates, drunken happy hours.

I realized … from 2000 till 2005 ...I worked for three different companies, in four different offices.

Went on three blind dates and one (gasp) match.com date.

Had two "relationships."

Had numerous undefined quasi-dating somethings.

Collected unemployment two different summers.

Lived in two apartments.

Drank in thousands of bars, ate in hundreds (thousands?) of restaurants.

Kissed …how many boys?

Made a priceless number of friends

The only consistent thing in my life has been my cell phone number.

Is that circumstance? Or my commitment phobia that the only thing consistent in my life is something that is wireless and mobile?

More on the 6: Mole people (otherwise known as anyone who rides the subway)

When a good friend moved to New York (two years before I did) she said she was amazed by how New Yorkers would exit the subways and just know what direction they were going in…they were mole people.

Riding my old commute … I've noticed …I'm a mole person …even after having moved ten months ago … I know how many cars from the front of the train I need to be so that when I get off at Grand Central … I'm in front of the stairs to go down to the 7 train ..and when I get on the 7 train…I get on two cars from the front …so that when I exit, I'm at the right exit that puts me on the corner of my office building.

I didn't even realize that I was methodically choosing which subway car to ride.

Of course, upon reflection, I do it on the el also … if I get on the last car on the brown line … I'm at the exit at the Merchandise Mart stop that puts me on the corner of Kinzie …and therefore down the block from my office.

on the 6

i lived on the upper east side from August 2000 until August 2005. And before that, i still spent a substianial amount of time on the east side (upper and and especially lower).

there were days (weeks) i felt like i was on the 6 train more than anywhere else in the city.

it's been a bit of a trip down memory lane this week, riding the 4/5/6 into grand central.

I LOVE New York ... but the El makes for a more pleasant view...

The L (Brown line: Wellington to Adams/Wabash) vs The Subway (N/R/W 8th St to Times Square)

Sun. Windows, a view.

looking for the horses on Orleans St.

Crossing the river.

Things I miss when riding the subway.

I Heart New York

Disclaimer ... this is in no way a reflection of my love for Chicago, I love Chicago. BUT...

I LOVE NEW YORK.

What is it about this city? Is it the city or my friends or is it that I loved the time in my life here? It still feels like home. I still get a rush. I still love it as much as I ever did.

I'm here for a few days and it's home again.

Caught without a pen

I had the perfect idea for a story. It was going to be my Pushcart Prize, my O'Henry winner. There was an object in the story and it was the perfect metaphor for something. It was original and brilliant. I thought of it while riding on the bus, but I didn't have a pen on me. I can't remember it now. This is why writers always have a pen and at least a scrap of paper on them.

~~~
I had another venti cup of crack today. I love the starbucks near my office because I actually ordered a "Venti, Nonfat cup of crack, foam, no whip." Love the guys there. Although my barista was pushing the sprinkles. But perfection doesn't need extra trimmings.
~~~
Small things make me happy. Like chopsticks. Eating chicken and broccoli stir fry with chopsticks feels like an occasion. Even if I order from the Chinese restaurant on my corner at least once a week, it still feels like an occasion.
~~~




Now that it is a new year, I've been thinking about the one that just past. It was a big year for me. I changed cities, I changed lives. Plus, on a morbid note, I did not attend one funeral in 2005. Which I think is the first year since 2001 that has happened. So, it I would say, all in all it was a good year.

These are the happy moments for me in 2005 (in no particular order):


Getting into the Art Institute. I had to re-read the acceptance letter several times.


Lunch at Atlantic Grill with my brother. It was a too hot, white sun in our eyes June day and we ordered the Shellfish castle. I went through a shellfish phase this summer, it was like I was addicted to raw oysters and shrimp. The "Castle" is really for four people. They had to move us to a larger table. People walking by on the street stopped and stared at it. It towered over us as we spun it around, searching for the next clam or oyster or shrimp. It was a glorious display of decadence, sitting outside on a weekday afternoon, eating too much overpriced shellfish at a restaurant on the Upper East Side.

Dinner at Pipa with the girls. It was one of those of nights when there was a surprising warm weather and everyone in Manhattan leaves work early to drink cocktails outside. It was right after I got into grad school and SD was offered the job in Singapore and EL had just moved to New York. Later we went to the Brandy Library and MM and EL stole wine glasses. It was just one of those nights that I loved being in New York and I loved having friends who had known me since college.

London. I hated it and I loved it. I hated flying back and forth and being jet lagged for a month straight, a week here and week there. I loved hating it, and I hated that I loved it. I loved everyone in the office there. I missed New York the whole time I was there and couldn't wait for a proper cup of coffee - even at Starbucks the Brits have figured out how to ruin coffee, and yet I felt determined to come back. Of course, waiting for the car service to pick me up at JFK, it was warm and sunny and all blue skies and I thought that I would never want to go to London again in the middle of the summer.

My brother's graduation from Syracuse. Even though he and I fought in the car driving home. Once we are in car together for a long road trip, we are instantly five and fifteen again. But that weekend, it was nice to be with my family and I was proud of him.

Fourth of July, lunch and cocktails at Sushi Samba with KW and VR.

My first night sleeping in my apartment in Chicago.

My birthday. I threw myself a party and invited people from school that I barely knew, and found out that I had new friends.

Sailing on Lake Michigan in my uncle's boat with my parents and my uncles and my aunt. Oh and that same weekend that they were in town, I had a "date" with my dad and we had ice cream at a soda shop in my neighborhood. He can't hide how excited he is that I have moved to the city of his childhood. Like all real Chicagoans, transplanted or not, he believes that Chicago is the best place in the world.

Lunch at the Central Park Boathouse with SD.

New Years Eve at KW's. Seeing all my New York friends again. CH turning to me after I told a dirty joke and saying with real emotion and nostalgia "I've really missed you." SD was back from Singapore, and JC came up from DC, and then we went to Biddy's afterwards. It was the only way I wanted to say good bye to 2005.