20 posts tagged “nyc”
Show us a photo that's overexposed or underexposed but you love how it turned out.
Even Bigger News: Jesus has a mullet.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to share the good word with you. Jesus is back, and if you're a female between the ages of 18 and 29, you can be a part of this glorious experience and join his ministry!
I was riding the train home from work on Friday evening, when a man carrying a sign that said "Earth Angel" boarded my car. He didn't look homeless or unkempt, the mullet aside. But he was nuttier'n a fruitcake, that's for sure. As soon as the doors swooshed shut, he launched into his speech. I didn't hear the first part, as my iPod was turned up, but when a quiet song came on, I got to hear all about the Good News.
Now, according to our little be-mulleted friend, he is the one and only earth angel to ever exist. J.C. in the flesh. He wants to take us all to heaven with him - well, by all, I mean any fairly attractive female between the ages of 18 and 29. "If you are even five minutes over the age of 29, you can't join." For some reason this seemed to genuinely offend some of the older female passengers, as if they were seriously considering joining for a second there. Hey guys, don't get touchy, them's the rules. He didn't make 'em, but he's got to enforce them.
I got off the train at the next stop, grateful to be leaving Mr. Christ on Earth behind. And that's when I realized he was right behind me, still preaching away. I headed for my bus stop, to take the bus across town, and he was just a few steps behind. The bus and I arrived at the stop at the same time, and I jumped to the front of the line, hoping the preacher man wouldn't follow. I found a seat next to someone else, preventing him from sitting next to me if he did decide to board. He stood outside, staring in while everyone stepped on, and just before the driver pulled away, he decided I wasn't a lost soul afterall and hopped on.
I stared out the window, and he continued to preach in my general direction. At this point I started to get a little nervous. Was this guy actually following me? What should I do if he follows me off the bus? Why oh why didn't I have mace? Can you actually mace someone just for following you around? Please don't let me be murdered by a man with a mullet who thinks he's Jesus! [Oh the humiliation!]
I decided to get off at the stop before mine, as it's a little busier. And the preacher man followed. Thoroughly freaked out at this point I turned around and practically screamed that I was going to call the police if he didn't stop following me. Apparently Mr. Earth Angel isn't afraid for his immortal soul, but he is afraid of the NYPD. He backed off, cursing me as he did so, and saying he was just trying to save me. Like I'm the asshole in this situation.
I didn't go immediately home, but walked around the block a few times, checking to make sure he wasn't around before I went into my building. Hey, I might be headed to hell in a hand basket, but I certainly don't want to arrive there any sooner than necessary, and certainly not at the hands of a be-mulleted subway preacher.
Ah, only in New York, my friends. Only in New York.
Show us a cityscape.
As of today I have officially lived in New York for one year. [I have also been shacking up with the Russian for a year today.]
I was under the impression that a lot of people didn't think this whole moving to New York with my boyfriend of only eight months would work out, but I guess that just goes to show that sometimes the most spontaneous, far-fetched plans you make are some of the best. At least, that's been the rule in my life. I just... had a feeling that all of this was supposed to be, so there ya go. Here we are.
[Truthfully, even I wasn't entirely convinced immediately after we'd moved that this was the best course of action. Ha. I love proving everyone - even myself - wrong.]
Do I love New York more than anything ever? Am I ready to trade in my Southern citizenship for that of a New Yorker's? No and no. But at the same time, I know this is exactly where I need to be at this time in my life. And NYC has spurred an incredible renaissance in my creative life. I am unbelievably grateful for that.
This city makes me want to pull my hair out, and yet inspires me so much. Everyday. Often at the same time.
But what a charmed life I am leading now. [Hatred for my job aside, of course.] How far we've come in this year. From slumming it next to squatters in a glorified studio on Avenue C, to a bright, beautiful one bedroom in a quaint neighborhood on the Upper West Side, less than a block from Central Park. [I guess you could say we kind of kicked New York's ass...]
Someday I will tire of my long commute, of the sirens blazing through the city when I'm trying to sleep, of the hustle and bustle; someday I'll trade it all in for a big house with a wraparound porch and easier access to sweet tea, but for now this is perfect.
Happy anniversary, New York. [And happy One Year Living Together anniversary, Goulah.]
I haven't been blogging because I've been writing. A lot. Which I haven't done much of in the past year - NaNoWriMo aside. It's been good and I'm so full of ideas. I have a plan now, and I'm going to write myself out of a corner. Or try to anyway.
Things are a little... oh, what's the word... strange, right now. You could say. I suppose. I won't elaborate, but certain members of my adoring readership know what I'm referring to. It's not bad or anything, just... funny. It's been a funny funny week.
On a side note, I saw Orlando Bloom on the corner of 59th and 1st recently. Of all the celebrities I've spotted, he has to be the best. It was a very cool "New York" moment.
It is beautiful today. John is in the park riding his bike, and I am sitting in the slanted sunlight in our living room drinking tea (of course), listening to my music too loudly and thinking of venturing outside myself, but mostly enjoying having the apartment to myself for the afternoon.
When I left work today I started walking down Second Avenue, headed for my downtown bus, only to realize, of course, that I was headed the wrong way. I stopped and felt so stupid standing there, trying to remember how to get home. But I made it. And in record time. [Unlike my morning commute which took over an hour, despite the fact I am now closer to work.]
John and I - truthfully, more John than I - slaved away the past five days and it felt so nice walking into our new apartment this evening. It's spacious but cozy, and already so distinctly ours. I love it here. The only thing missing is John's guitars hanging the wall, but those will be put up soon and then it will really feel like home.
The only trouble with this place is that I just haven't been able to sleep. At all. I thought it was stress at first; so much on my mind. But now, I think, it's just too quiet. I am so used to the thump-thump-thump from the bar downstairs, the sirens, and the general noise and commotion that went on outside our windows 24 hours a day. Now that we live on a residential street, it's so strange. I get into bed and there's just... silence. When I first moved to the city I couldn't sleep because of the noise, and now I can't sleep because it's so quiet up here on the 4th floor. I'm sure I'll adjust soon, but it's very strange.
I do kind of miss the East Village, but I am certainly falling in love with our new neighborhood. I feel like I am living in a completely different city.
Whooo... you just haven't lived until you've moved onto the top floor of a four-story walk-up.
This is coming to you via hijacked internet, as ours will not be working until tomorrow evening.
I can't feel my legs. At least we'll be in amazing shape living on the 4th floor. [Next time we move: MOVERS!]
I am exhausted, and I still have a billion things to do. ...So I better go do them.
So this is it. Tomorrow is our last full day on Avenue C. Thursday we move. And I find myself slightly sadder than I imagined I would be. I walked home from 2nd Avenue, across the East Village and thought about how much I will miss this strange little corner of Manhattan...
Tomorrow is my last day riding the stupid M14 bus that I loathe so much. Our last day avoiding the squatters next door. The last day I will have to avoid saying hello to the MTA man at 1st and 14th who ushers everyone on the bus with a quick succession of "good mornings" and is far too cheery for that hour of the day. [I know he's just trying to be friendly, but I really want to punch him in the face sometimes.]
It seems so strange to be leaving. I will miss it... but I won't.
And I have yet to think of a suitable name for my blog once we move. I don't think "Sweet Tea on the Upper West Side" has quite the same ring.
I can't believe this is our last full week in the East Village. And though I will not be sorry to leave our hole in the wall or Avenue C, for that matter, there are certain things about the East Village I will very much miss. [The Sunburnt Cow, the yummy Brazilian place on the corner, Tompkins Square, Union Square greenmarket, The Strand... etc.] But I am sure there are many things I will fall in love with [have already fallen in love with] on the Upper West Side.
The East Village was a great place to start our New York experience. Our apartment is small, but we have been happy here. It was our first apartment together, so of course it will always be special to me. When we moved in together, we knew right away living in such tight quarters would really make or break our relationship. I had lived with someone a few years before I met John, [how scandalous, I know] and had kind of vowed to never do it again; I just didn't think it was for me. [I think I can be kind of high maintainence...] But then I met John who is so unlike any man I have ever known, and who changed my entire perception of what a relationship is supposed to be; he made me want to take a leap of faith.
Almost a year later and I haven't regretted a moment of it. I could probably live with John in a box and everything would be okay. [Well, it would have to be a refridgerator box to accomodate his six-foot-six frame...] It was good for our relationship; if we can live harmoniously in a tiny two room studio for so long and not want to kill each other, I think we have a pretty bright future.
Onward and upward.
We went uptown today to peruse our new neighborhood. It was incredibly cold, but we had a nice walk, up and down the area surrounding our new home. I can't believe we're less than a block from Central Park. It's so much quieter than our current neighborhood; very diverse in age with a lot of people around our age, a lot of families, and a lot of older people. I like that mix. It feels like a happy place. I am so excited to move. But I will always remember the East Village and our first tiny apartment together with extreme fondness.
John and I are movin' on up. To the west side. To a deluxe apartment in the sky. Well, sort of. To a deluxe apartment on the fourth floor of a walk up.
We found an apartment via Craigslist and were approved today. Without a broker. It can be done! The lease will be signed tomorrow. A block from Central Park. We'll get a dog. Twice the space of our little closet in the East Village.
It's ours on March 1st. And we are in shock. Glorious, glorious shock.
It's basically the best Valentine's Day present ever.
Guess I'll have to change the name of my blog. [Suggestions welcome.]
