New Posts Soon

I apologize for the lack of new posts this past week. My computer gave its last "hooray" before biting the dust on Tuesday. Therefore, leaving me with nothing to use to type. I did get a brand spankin' new computer on Wednesday, so there will be plenty of posts next week.

Until then...

Cruising

I know, I know... another picture from California. I can't help it. This weekend we traded summer clothes for winter and got our first hot chocolate on Friday night. Sometimes, I just need a little reminder of summer.

Perspectives: Part VI

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the 3rd graders at my school and their enlightening comments about the presidential candidates. Last week, the 2nd graders shared their knowledge about the vice presidential candidates. They weren’t too far off.

For Biden, they commented on his white hair and kindness at helping Obama become president. They also mentioned that he often looked like a weather man. Understandable.

They said Palin wants to help McCain win and that she loves to hunt moose. Oh, and that she looks like Judge Judy.

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

On A Mission

A couple of weeks ago, Ben and I ate dinner several blocks from our apartment. As we ate, about 15 black SUVs with black tinted windows and men in black suits zoomed up Broadway. Who was important enough to deserve a fast moving caravan of black Chevy Tahoes?

We soon found out.

As we walked home, we noticed the same cars and bodyguards waiting in and around the entrance of Barnes and Nobles. My first thought? C-e-l-e-b-r-i-t-y. Ben’s first thought? Not sure. I had already snapped into celeb-stalking mode and was on an intense storewide search for anyone famous.

Minutes later, after a fruitless search, I cornered a store employee and pressed him for information about who was in the store. His response… “the president of Turkey and some other really important people.”

I was impressed, but not SUPER impressed. My camera was poised and ready to snap pictures of Brangelina or TomKat; pictures that would have earned me lots and lots of money.

Maybe next time. After all, it is New York. Anything can happen.

Beep, Beep

I love taxis. They're so easy. Piece of cake.

Ben and I take the bus or subway everywhere - when we go out at night, on the weekends, to work. Not very sexy.

But, when friends visit or when we celebrate a special occasion, we hop in a taxi and zoom all over town. A taxi ride basically means: a temperature regulated motor vehicle, perfectly coiffed hair upon arrival, and a decrease in overall travel time. The stress of getting somewhere is virtually eliminated.

Oh, and I always feel very Carrie Bradshaw when hailing one from the curb in heels. What can I say? It’s a girl thing.

Ben's Birthday

This weekend we celebrated Ben’s upcoming 27th birthday. New York City style, of course. The only way to do it here.

On Friday, Ben’s best friend made a surprise trip from Washington, D.C. and on Saturday 12 friends came together for a surprise dinner. I was nervous all week. The anticipation of pulling off Nick’s visit AND the dinner had me going crazy with anxious excitement. One slip of the tongue or misdirected email could have ruined everything. Oy! The life of a New York party planner is hard.

For dinner, we ate at a trendy restaurant in the Meatpacking District called Vento. The restaurant is shaped like a triangle because it sits in the middle of two streets that cross in the shape of an X. The restaurant was delicious, trendy, and very posh… so... us.

The weekend celebration was perfect, fun, and exhausting. Just the way a 27th birthday should be.

Not Cool Enough

Yesterday, in school, a small group of students were upset by the difficulty of a class assignment. Amidst the whining and the groaning, I said “Whoa, guys. Chill out. Don’t worry. We’ll get it.”

Five fourth graders turned my way and burst into laughter. Apparently, I said something… wrong?

A student spoke, “You can’t say ‘chill’. That’s a cool word that teachers can’t use.”

Everyone murmured in agreement.

Wait! What? Excuse me! I am 26 years old, wear skinny jeans, AND watch Gossip Girl… how am I not cool?

These kids really know how to hit below the belt.

Still Dreaming

One more picture from San Francisco. Gotta love the west coast.

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.

From The Top

Taken from the top of the Empire State Building.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.