I snapped this picture when we were in San Francisco. We were on our way home from Carmel and I spotted this lady meditating by the ocean. Ah... the ocean, the sun, the breeze... maybe again next year.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Wishing and Hoping
I snapped this picture when we were in San Francisco. We were on our way home from Carmel and I spotted this lady meditating by the ocean. Ah... the ocean, the sun, the breeze... maybe again next year.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Soft Eyes
It’s kind of funny. I started this blog to talk about how different and crazy New York is. It was pretty easy in the beginning.
Everything was weird and most people seemed crazy. Here rent is a bazillion dollars, apartments are closets, and the fast pace is nonstop. New Yorkers are loud, straight to the point, work long hours, and commute everywhere by bus, subway, train, and then ferry. The lifestyle adjustment was big, and the city proved to be unlike anywhere else I had ever lived.
Twelve months ago, a good day meant that I avoided injury from flying taxis and passing pedestrians. A really day meant not getting cussed out during the five o’clock rush at the grocery store by somebody’s grandma. But, now, I hardly notice any of that.
Everything is different because now I am a New Yorker (almost). I elbow people in my way and I get around the city without help; without the fear of getting lost or flattened by something tougher than me.
It’s harder to notice the “crazy” things in the city because it’s finally become normal. Granted, a homeless man posed as the Statue of Liberty holding a tree branch while humming the national anthem will never really be normal, but the daily hustle and bustle of the city and its people have become routine. Now, a lot of it seems kind of… comforting. Kind of like, well, home.
I’ve successfully adjusted to the good and the bad of big city life, which is huge to say because one year ago, I didn’t know if that would be possible. From a writer’s standpoint, this means that I have to work a little harder and keep my eyes open to the wildness that still goes on in this concrete jungle. It will be difficult, but as a New Yorker, I am up to the challenge.
Everything was weird and most people seemed crazy. Here rent is a bazillion dollars, apartments are closets, and the fast pace is nonstop. New Yorkers are loud, straight to the point, work long hours, and commute everywhere by bus, subway, train, and then ferry. The lifestyle adjustment was big, and the city proved to be unlike anywhere else I had ever lived.
Twelve months ago, a good day meant that I avoided injury from flying taxis and passing pedestrians. A really day meant not getting cussed out during the five o’clock rush at the grocery store by somebody’s grandma. But, now, I hardly notice any of that.
Everything is different because now I am a New Yorker (almost). I elbow people in my way and I get around the city without help; without the fear of getting lost or flattened by something tougher than me.
It’s harder to notice the “crazy” things in the city because it’s finally become normal. Granted, a homeless man posed as the Statue of Liberty holding a tree branch while humming the national anthem will never really be normal, but the daily hustle and bustle of the city and its people have become routine. Now, a lot of it seems kind of… comforting. Kind of like, well, home.
I’ve successfully adjusted to the good and the bad of big city life, which is huge to say because one year ago, I didn’t know if that would be possible. From a writer’s standpoint, this means that I have to work a little harder and keep my eyes open to the wildness that still goes on in this concrete jungle. It will be difficult, but as a New Yorker, I am up to the challenge.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Fisheye View
A cool view of Manhattan from Governor's Island. This view is only a short ferry ride away from the big city and is FREE. Do it while it lasts.
Photo taken on Saturday.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
All Good Things Must Come To An End
As summer ends and fall begins, New Yorkers squeeze in a few more days of tanning and lounging in the warm sun.
Picture taken at Riverside Park, one block from our apartment.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Adios, White Couch!
We sold a couch on Craigslist… our first official “sale” through the website. We had two couches – one that we bought last year on Craigslist and one that we found on the sidewalk a block from our apartment. Today, the first couch found a new home with a young student at Columbia who carted it home with a rented U-Haul pickup truck.
She pulled up to our building, and Ben and I carried the couch from our apartment to her truck. We held the couch and waited as she covered the truck bed with a sheet. Since the truck was parked semi-illegally, cars filled with New York drivers honked incessantly and yelled obscenities through cracked windows.
A nearby construction worker moseyed over and started to direct traffic around our “road block”. As I helped Ben hoist the couch onto the back of the truck, the construction worker admired my bulging biceps and said, “I’d hate to meet you in a dark alley.”
You’ve got that right, buddy. This is one tough New Yorker.
She pulled up to our building, and Ben and I carried the couch from our apartment to her truck. We held the couch and waited as she covered the truck bed with a sheet. Since the truck was parked semi-illegally, cars filled with New York drivers honked incessantly and yelled obscenities through cracked windows.
A nearby construction worker moseyed over and started to direct traffic around our “road block”. As I helped Ben hoist the couch onto the back of the truck, the construction worker admired my bulging biceps and said, “I’d hate to meet you in a dark alley.”
You’ve got that right, buddy. This is one tough New Yorker.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Cookies and Popsicles
Call it lazy. Call it ornery. Whatever you call it, we experience it every week. It begins when we lounge on the bed or couch, enjoying one another’s company, as we watch a semi-good TV show or Netflix movie.
Then, we get hungry. Or, at least, one of us gets hungry and then entices the other with sweet thoughts of chocolate chip cookies or fruit popsicles. Neither wants to get up, too comfortable, to preheat the oven or reach in the cold freezer. Basically, we do not want to burn calories to walk twelve feet to the kitchen.
This is how it usually goes.
“YOU preheat the oven and I will put the cookies in.”
“No, YOU preheat the oven and I will put the cookies in and YOU take them out.”
It’s then that we both realize that the best option is to preheat the oven because the one who gets stuck putting the cookies in must also expend additional energy rolling the dough into balls and slapping them on the cookie sheet. When that realization sets in, a WWE wrestling match ensues, with the winner only having to preheat the oven.
Keep in mind that I will start yoga soon, so my strength and endurance will increase and I will be defeated no more.
Then, we get hungry. Or, at least, one of us gets hungry and then entices the other with sweet thoughts of chocolate chip cookies or fruit popsicles. Neither wants to get up, too comfortable, to preheat the oven or reach in the cold freezer. Basically, we do not want to burn calories to walk twelve feet to the kitchen.
This is how it usually goes.
“YOU preheat the oven and I will put the cookies in.”
“No, YOU preheat the oven and I will put the cookies in and YOU take them out.”
It’s then that we both realize that the best option is to preheat the oven because the one who gets stuck putting the cookies in must also expend additional energy rolling the dough into balls and slapping them on the cookie sheet. When that realization sets in, a WWE wrestling match ensues, with the winner only having to preheat the oven.
Keep in mind that I will start yoga soon, so my strength and endurance will increase and I will be defeated no more.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Perspectives: Part V
Today, a third grade class at my school learned about the election and the presidential candidates, McCain and Obama. The teacher put a picture of each on the board and asked the students to voice what they know about each candidate, whether it’s true or not. Fundamentally, the students learn about politics, research, and the difference between fact and fiction.
The students eagerly raised their hands, excited to share information. The list for each candidate appeared verbatim as follows:
Barack Obama
Wants to be the first African American president
2 kids (daughters) and wife
Trying to change the world
Tells people why to vote for him
Good man
Born in Africa
His daughters have security guards at school
Cares for his community
Knowing what to say about John McCain proved a teensy bit more difficult...
John McCain
Has 7 houses
Wants to be rich
Ha.
The students eagerly raised their hands, excited to share information. The list for each candidate appeared verbatim as follows:
Barack Obama
Wants to be the first African American president
2 kids (daughters) and wife
Trying to change the world
Tells people why to vote for him
Good man
Born in Africa
His daughters have security guards at school
Cares for his community
Knowing what to say about John McCain proved a teensy bit more difficult...
John McCain
Has 7 houses
Wants to be rich
Ha.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Golden Gate Bridge
I snapped this picture as Ben drove us over the Golden Gate Bridge in San Fransico. I had three opportunities to get this picture since we missed the correct exit on more than one occasion. Even with the GPS, we missed several key turns throughout our California trip. Thankfully, the 'Stang had a good turning radius and V6 engine for for those necessary U-turns.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Mustang
Ben and I rented a Mustang convertible in California, which totally made the vacation. We rode with the top down everywhere and were, in no way, discreet about our new wheels. That's what cool cars are for – to show off.
Ben gunned the engine whenever possible and nodded his head at passing motorists in less desirable cars. Boys. I multi-tasked by tanning and mapping out directions as we drove from place to place.
We stopped at overlooks to view the picturesque landscapes along Highway 1. At one overlook, we squealed to a stop as Ben slid the Mustang between a row of parked minivans and frazzled parents. Our top was down, the music blared, sunglasses covered our eyes... we were very Hollywood. Moreover, very obnoxious.
We loved it.
The Mustang was, truly, a vacation in itself. For two New Yorkers who don’t drive in the city, we relished the opportunity to drive a car. And, for two small town kids who drove a hybrid and '87 Buick in high school, we loved to cruise in the ‘Stang.
Ben gunned the engine whenever possible and nodded his head at passing motorists in less desirable cars. Boys. I multi-tasked by tanning and mapping out directions as we drove from place to place.
We stopped at overlooks to view the picturesque landscapes along Highway 1. At one overlook, we squealed to a stop as Ben slid the Mustang between a row of parked minivans and frazzled parents. Our top was down, the music blared, sunglasses covered our eyes... we were very Hollywood. Moreover, very obnoxious.
We loved it.
The Mustang was, truly, a vacation in itself. For two New Yorkers who don’t drive in the city, we relished the opportunity to drive a car. And, for two small town kids who drove a hybrid and '87 Buick in high school, we loved to cruise in the ‘Stang.
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