There's so much going on this week that I've managed to somehow neglect my weekly blog entry. I've been dying to get on here and "free my mind" of the crap that has managed to clout my normalcy. Work is starting to really feel like work and I've managed to be consistently busy these last few days with a ton of my clients. The days go by faster and my stress level seems to get the best of me, but I've never really been one to succumb to that kind of pressure. I always somehow manage to power through it. Not today--- today has been an experience all on its own. To put it in perspective, it's sort of like when you're feeling great and having a great day and someone says something so minute and miniscule that borders offensive-- but packs so much punch and hits you right below the belt-- that it literally cripples you by eating away at your thoughts. It's amazing how you can't manage to take the compliments you receive for what their worth, but really place a lot of emphasis on the insults (or critiques).
Arriving to work I knew that I'd have to submit a press release for a client. It has been in the works for about 2 weeks now and it was a particularly sensitive subject for the company. Due to my confidentiality clause I can't specify more on it, but after going through the routine of getting it ready for dissemmination-- a particular foreign exchange releases the release an hour before the client wanted to announce it. Keep in mind-- the announcement had a lot riding on it. Well, this does not play well with the client who upon seeing stories appear in the news, immediately phones my boss, who in turns questions my actions and the entire mess pushes me inches from an anxiety attack-- no kidding. More than anyone else I am hard on myself when I make a mistake, especially when my job could potentially be on the line or I could cost a corporation millions of dollars, or have my employer lose a client because of my stupidity. Granted the fact that this guy at the foreign stock exchange was the one to leak the announcement before he had authority too--- the client doesn't know that. I was merely following procedure that's endured longer than anyone can remember, but of course I look like th asshole who f-ed it up for the company. It's strike two for me with this particular client because I'd previously released a press release with the tracked changes from Word still on it to the distribution list and upper management. DUH! I don't know what's wrong with me-- I'm usually more meticulous than that and I pride myself on my ability to pay attention to detail. I'm easily overwhelmed by the work though and obviously something has to improve or I'm packin' up and shippin' out. Let's just hope I'm jumping to conclusions and being completely irrational.... at least for my sanity.
In other news: I attended the Feist concert last night with DB and DP at the McCarren Pool in Brooklyn. Let me just start off by saying that thanks to my unwillingness to carry a camera around with me to capture my adventures and thanks to my willingness to maintain a blog-- I've learned to absorb more of the things I experience, so as to accurately recap them in this "electronic diary."
A woman who can rock out on an as-yet-un-named guitar in front of a sea of people standing in what use to be a massive (and I mean massive) pool that is now drained and turned into a pseudo-concert hall for the world of hipsters to enjoy------ is awesome. Standing on the 7 ft. tall (my best estimate) stage with a mic stand and underneath the string of red, green and blue lights, her voice sounds better than any recorded material. Almost instantly-- you become enveloped in her sultry-folk voice as the rythmic beating on the guitar leaves you no choice but to move in unison. Your mesmerized, completely infatuated and have fallen under the spell that is Feist-- as you stare up in complete awe of a human being capable of sounding so serene and evoking so much of herself in her songs. For a second you almost wonder if her CD could sound better-- but you quickly realize that you're in the presence of a real performer capable of doing what only distinguished performs of the past were capable of doing before electronic synthesizing and massive paychecks forever changed the face of concerts because greedy artists preferred the spectacle of a concert over a gritty, unplugged performance. So many have fallen victim to the comfort of a back-track that'll loop the chorus or worse keep them from ever stressing their vocal chords. The only looping you'll find from Feist comes from the looping machine she uses while her bandmates sit out a song or two. The only thing that could have made her performance more raw was if we were sitting in an intimate recording studio, packed on top of pillows and her simply interjecting spurts of songs, while engaged in friendly conversation--- naked.
During her one song appropriately entitled "The Park"-- I became aware of where I was, who I was with and what I was doing. It sounds peculiar, yes, but how many times have you ever felt aware of where you are? I mean really aware of your surroundings. There's no doubt that we often walk like mummies through experiences without fully grasping onto what we've just witnessed or been through. In my experience, those lost moments are the ones that for obvious reasons become mere blurs and even when a friend says to you "remember that one time..." you can't for the life of you remember what they're talking about. Frustrating.
If it weren't evident as it stands...I had the most incredible of times at the concert. Certainly ranks on my top 10 experiences in New York thus far-- where among this list I just made up when writing that sentence it stands....I don't know. I have to see what else I can list on my top 10 best experiences in New York.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Beantown
It feels like I haven't had a chance to write in the blog for a while now. It's been kind of hectic at work and I was explaining to DB earlier today how I think I've finally begun to cross this line where I'm actually delving more and more into my career. I'm beginning to understand my clients industries saving me on the frustration that comes with the confusing industry talk, I'm becoming more active and proactive with my job looking for projects to help with and dealing more on a one-on-one basis with my clients. It's actually pretty cool to have my responsibility gradually increase with time. I've even asked for a 3 month review because I'm really trying to focus on the direction I want to take over the next year. I imagine it shows a great deal of initative and drive-- plus I've always appreciated constructive criticism from people, so knowing how my supervisors perceive me will obviously help to work on my weaknesses and continue building my strengths. It's made me really happy to come to work and feel useful. It could also have something to do with the fact that I'm finally gaining some ground on the monetary side. I've been able to start saving or at least accumulating some money from my paychecks without having to worry about what I can and cannot afford. Everyone did say that it would take some time to adjust, but I had no idea it would take nearly 3 months.
On to more entertaining stuff-- I took a leap of faith, a spontaneous act of youthfulness this past weekend and decided last minute (after much internal debate) to visit yet another one of my London friends who lives in Boston-- RG. She has been living there for 2 months and is in the same boat as me as far as finances, starting a new job, renting an apartment, getting to know the city and new people etc. So, when she offered and invited me to come visit Boston-- I knew I'd be a fool not to check out the city having never been there.
One of the nice things about living up North is the mass transit available to you for an economical price. I booked a ticket on a greyhound bus for 30 bucks from New York directly to Boston-- a 4.5 hour trip. It just so happened I had an early summer friday, so I ran home, packed a bag and headed to the bus terminal without mentioning it to any of my friends or family until I had arrived in Boston. I felt like a backpacker again-- and it was a fantastic escape from the city. It was my first trip away from "home" since I'd been here and it made coming back home to Manhattan all the better. I realized how much I've grown accustom to New York and the lifestyle that I really appreciated it. That's not to say that Boston wasn't incredible.
I arrived around 9:45 p.m. to be greeted by CM, RG and a new friend BR. They had already begun their night at the bar, and I was eager to catch up. We started out be visiting what was described to me as the "Fifth Ave." of Boston--- Newbury. It was a more upscale part of town decorated in brownstown style buildings sporting high-end fashion names, expensive restaurants and fancy boutiques. We sat down and ate a Spanish tapas restaurant named Tapeo that served a descent version of a Spanish Sangria (nothing compares to the one I had in Barcelona though). We order a ton of tapas to share and knocked back two $21 jugs of Sangria.... this was clearly the beginning of a good night.
We headed out to the main bar area and checked out City Bar- a swanky bar inside an even swankier hotel. The crowd was unique in that there was a mix of middle-aged and young professionals in the dimly lit bar accented with neon lights behind the bar, club chairs and rich wooden furniture. It's never me scene to wait in line for a night out or stay too long where you can hardly hear yourself think...so we opted to head next door to a more low key bar named Sola. This was more my style in that it reminded me of a pub in England with its subtle yellow tint, wooden high tops and countless drafts on tap. In true celebration we began buying rounds, taking shots and enjoying eachother's conversation. It was really refreshing to be amongst friends that are capable of just relaxing, holding a conversation and making the best of the atmosphere without complaining, negativity or a puss on their face. My new friend BR was also a really great addition to our already tight clique of Londoners (CM, RG and I). There was no hesitation in her chummy demeanor nor did she ever make herself be the odd woman out-- on the contrary it was as though we had known her for years. Very sweet girl with a killer personality and incredibly witty sense of humor who also happens to look like Tina Fey.
Boston reminded me of a big city in a small town. There are something close to 50 universities and colleges within a 20 mile radius of the city, so during the fall semester the city swarms with college students. I can't decide if that would be fun or a huge disappointment. The clubs and bars close at 2 a.m. (with last call around 1:30 in true Gainesville tradition) and the subway shuts down at 12:30 a.m. with the streets completely desolate leaving you only to walk home or grab a taxi. After deciding to take a shot of jager with the faintest splash of red bull just before the bar closed and we somehow convinced half the patrons that remain to join us in our inebriated version of Journey's- Don't Stop Believein' we were welcomed by the rain. Now, whether it was the alcohol or the good vibe we had going the four of us (2 guys and 2 girls) decided to walk through the rain. Let me say that again...sprint through the rain down the streets of Boston. It's one of those moments you look back and realize how much fun it really was...almost liberating and not something that is or should be done every weekend. Plus hurdling over bags of trash on the sidewalks wouldn't be fun had we been running through the streets of New York. Boston is so much cleaner and sprawled out-- its beautiful. I had said that I could see myself living there when I got older if I wanted the feel of a big city but without the chaos and filth. All this and I had been in the city for only a couple of hours!
The remainder of the weekend consisted of a lot of leisurely walking with absolutely no destination in mind. I was the only one who had never seen the city, so we just walked in no particular direction stopping to play frisbee golf in the Boston Commons gardens, meeting more UF Alum that CM new, which I happen to have mutual friends with and even throwing back to my good old days of London by eating lunch at Wagamamas--- SO GOOD!
We dined in the North End saturday evening-- even meeting up with a UF acquaintence from Freshman year only proving again how small the world really is when you have attended the University of Florida. I couldn't tell you anything about the restuarant we ate at except that the streets that neighbored it reminded me of the tiny cobblestone streets of Europe and the house wine with gnocci (sp) was delictable.
All-in-all my trip to Boston was amazing and I am not the least bit worried about not having seen Fenway or visited a neighboring bar because I know that I'll be back to visit my friend RG. She's already agreed to it. Like I said... taking a holiday away from Manhattan because I can was perfect and I would have never imagined missing New York so much.
By the way...it's freezing and raining outside right now in New York...could it be fall and will I finally get to see snow? One can only hope, but it is only August-- which is insane considering I'd be drenched in sweat if I were still in Florida.
Cheers.
On to more entertaining stuff-- I took a leap of faith, a spontaneous act of youthfulness this past weekend and decided last minute (after much internal debate) to visit yet another one of my London friends who lives in Boston-- RG. She has been living there for 2 months and is in the same boat as me as far as finances, starting a new job, renting an apartment, getting to know the city and new people etc. So, when she offered and invited me to come visit Boston-- I knew I'd be a fool not to check out the city having never been there.
One of the nice things about living up North is the mass transit available to you for an economical price. I booked a ticket on a greyhound bus for 30 bucks from New York directly to Boston-- a 4.5 hour trip. It just so happened I had an early summer friday, so I ran home, packed a bag and headed to the bus terminal without mentioning it to any of my friends or family until I had arrived in Boston. I felt like a backpacker again-- and it was a fantastic escape from the city. It was my first trip away from "home" since I'd been here and it made coming back home to Manhattan all the better. I realized how much I've grown accustom to New York and the lifestyle that I really appreciated it. That's not to say that Boston wasn't incredible.
I arrived around 9:45 p.m. to be greeted by CM, RG and a new friend BR. They had already begun their night at the bar, and I was eager to catch up. We started out be visiting what was described to me as the "Fifth Ave." of Boston--- Newbury. It was a more upscale part of town decorated in brownstown style buildings sporting high-end fashion names, expensive restaurants and fancy boutiques. We sat down and ate a Spanish tapas restaurant named Tapeo that served a descent version of a Spanish Sangria (nothing compares to the one I had in Barcelona though). We order a ton of tapas to share and knocked back two $21 jugs of Sangria.... this was clearly the beginning of a good night.
We headed out to the main bar area and checked out City Bar- a swanky bar inside an even swankier hotel. The crowd was unique in that there was a mix of middle-aged and young professionals in the dimly lit bar accented with neon lights behind the bar, club chairs and rich wooden furniture. It's never me scene to wait in line for a night out or stay too long where you can hardly hear yourself think...so we opted to head next door to a more low key bar named Sola. This was more my style in that it reminded me of a pub in England with its subtle yellow tint, wooden high tops and countless drafts on tap. In true celebration we began buying rounds, taking shots and enjoying eachother's conversation. It was really refreshing to be amongst friends that are capable of just relaxing, holding a conversation and making the best of the atmosphere without complaining, negativity or a puss on their face. My new friend BR was also a really great addition to our already tight clique of Londoners (CM, RG and I). There was no hesitation in her chummy demeanor nor did she ever make herself be the odd woman out-- on the contrary it was as though we had known her for years. Very sweet girl with a killer personality and incredibly witty sense of humor who also happens to look like Tina Fey.
Boston reminded me of a big city in a small town. There are something close to 50 universities and colleges within a 20 mile radius of the city, so during the fall semester the city swarms with college students. I can't decide if that would be fun or a huge disappointment. The clubs and bars close at 2 a.m. (with last call around 1:30 in true Gainesville tradition) and the subway shuts down at 12:30 a.m. with the streets completely desolate leaving you only to walk home or grab a taxi. After deciding to take a shot of jager with the faintest splash of red bull just before the bar closed and we somehow convinced half the patrons that remain to join us in our inebriated version of Journey's- Don't Stop Believein' we were welcomed by the rain. Now, whether it was the alcohol or the good vibe we had going the four of us (2 guys and 2 girls) decided to walk through the rain. Let me say that again...sprint through the rain down the streets of Boston. It's one of those moments you look back and realize how much fun it really was...almost liberating and not something that is or should be done every weekend. Plus hurdling over bags of trash on the sidewalks wouldn't be fun had we been running through the streets of New York. Boston is so much cleaner and sprawled out-- its beautiful. I had said that I could see myself living there when I got older if I wanted the feel of a big city but without the chaos and filth. All this and I had been in the city for only a couple of hours!
The remainder of the weekend consisted of a lot of leisurely walking with absolutely no destination in mind. I was the only one who had never seen the city, so we just walked in no particular direction stopping to play frisbee golf in the Boston Commons gardens, meeting more UF Alum that CM new, which I happen to have mutual friends with and even throwing back to my good old days of London by eating lunch at Wagamamas--- SO GOOD!
We dined in the North End saturday evening-- even meeting up with a UF acquaintence from Freshman year only proving again how small the world really is when you have attended the University of Florida. I couldn't tell you anything about the restuarant we ate at except that the streets that neighbored it reminded me of the tiny cobblestone streets of Europe and the house wine with gnocci (sp) was delictable.
All-in-all my trip to Boston was amazing and I am not the least bit worried about not having seen Fenway or visited a neighboring bar because I know that I'll be back to visit my friend RG. She's already agreed to it. Like I said... taking a holiday away from Manhattan because I can was perfect and I would have never imagined missing New York so much.
By the way...it's freezing and raining outside right now in New York...could it be fall and will I finally get to see snow? One can only hope, but it is only August-- which is insane considering I'd be drenched in sweat if I were still in Florida.
Cheers.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
3 Months Into It
Today I celebrate my 3 months working at my first job. I've managed to learn a great deal about my industry, clients and myself surprisingly. I would have never imagined enjoying working as much as I do and I'm slowly shaking off the college mentality one day at a time. What I mean is that I'm starting to realize that this place I come in every day at 8:30 a.m. and work for 8 hours at--- is my job. It's my career. It's now the most prevalent part of my life. I'm reminded of that quote: "Live to Work, Don't Work to Live." It has become increasingly more important to me over these last 3 months to learn as much as I can about the direction I want to maneuver my career-- perfecting the craft that is investor relations. I've found that my priorities have shifted dramatically in every facet of my life too. I guess they sort of have to when you have rent to worry about, bills to pay, taxes to file, a 401K to manage and credit score to maintain. Life has become less about constantly satisfying the minimalist of whims that urge a sporadic Tuesday night outting, spending binge or dinner soiree-- rather it's about finding that balance between those things of high importance and maintaining one's life in order. It's been about tapping into interests that are often subsided for unbeknownst reasons and allowing yourself to fall into new interests that time now permits you to explore. It's surprising how you realize how much the things you once enjoyed were left out of your life when you graduate from college and you seem to have a lot of spare time to "kill." I would have always thought that college would be the appropriate avenue to explore those things, but for some reason it always seemed like there was never enough time for it in college. Maybe it was just me.
I like the responsibility and routine that has come with "growing up." It hasn't been monotonous because there are days that broken up by gatherings with friends or free events in the city. For instance, last night myself, CM, CD, Nicori and Beatrice all went to Bryant Park to watch Casablanca on this giant screen they set up in the park. We sat and sipped on some wine, while watching the classic movie amidst the back drop of midtown Manhattan. It was cool to be sitting there experiencing that...it was certainly one of those New York experiences that I could see myself reading about in a magazine and wishing I'd lived in New York to do. You know how you sometimes say that about things or places? "If I lived there...or if I had this...I would do this." Like before I got a car I said that I would wash it every week no matter what. I got car and probably washed it once every 2 months depending on how dirty it looked.
And up until now its seemed like I've been living paycheck-to-paycheck with little to no money to spare before the next paycheck was deposited, but in reality I've had my fair share of entertainment and luxury these past 3 months. I have, however, begun establishing myself and thought that about how it's taken 3 months to finally get my feet grounded. In all fairness though, it really hasn't been like I haven't had my "feed grounded" it's more that I've been keen on inhaling (there's no better adjective to describe it)--- on inhaling what this city has to offer as if it were to escape me or I was going to be shaken from a dream.
The 3 months have zooooomed by and it's incredible how fast time goes when you find yourself buzzing around the city. I'm finally eligble for my company's health insurance plan and in two weeks I'm about to sign my first lease for my first apartment in the city. Making my residence here official-- or at least until I opt for getting a New York driver's license.
Through it all, I've managed to do this massive transition on my own accord. It's been an immense learning experience and had someone told me that this is what I would be doing after graduating college...I'd find it pretty hard to believe or think it possible to somehow survive. That's the thing about our preceptions....it seems like we often project the possibility of things to come as being one way based solely on our experience with an entirely unrelated event-- leading us to assume that we know what to expect, when in reality our expectations never correlate with the reality of the situation -- be it good or bad.
To the friends I've managed to stay in touch with these past 3 months. You've proven me wrong on so many accounts that it feels fantastic to know that the time vested in those friendships over the years have not been for nothing. I've managed to speak to the majority of you, if not all of you, on many occassions often being the one to receive the call rather than being the one to place the call. I've also been in great company these last 3 months having a few of you come crash at my place.
I've been through a lot of good these last 3 months and that's pretty damn refreshing to say. Cheers.
I like the responsibility and routine that has come with "growing up." It hasn't been monotonous because there are days that broken up by gatherings with friends or free events in the city. For instance, last night myself, CM, CD, Nicori and Beatrice all went to Bryant Park to watch Casablanca on this giant screen they set up in the park. We sat and sipped on some wine, while watching the classic movie amidst the back drop of midtown Manhattan. It was cool to be sitting there experiencing that...it was certainly one of those New York experiences that I could see myself reading about in a magazine and wishing I'd lived in New York to do. You know how you sometimes say that about things or places? "If I lived there...or if I had this...I would do this." Like before I got a car I said that I would wash it every week no matter what. I got car and probably washed it once every 2 months depending on how dirty it looked.
And up until now its seemed like I've been living paycheck-to-paycheck with little to no money to spare before the next paycheck was deposited, but in reality I've had my fair share of entertainment and luxury these past 3 months. I have, however, begun establishing myself and thought that about how it's taken 3 months to finally get my feet grounded. In all fairness though, it really hasn't been like I haven't had my "feed grounded" it's more that I've been keen on inhaling (there's no better adjective to describe it)--- on inhaling what this city has to offer as if it were to escape me or I was going to be shaken from a dream.
The 3 months have zooooomed by and it's incredible how fast time goes when you find yourself buzzing around the city. I'm finally eligble for my company's health insurance plan and in two weeks I'm about to sign my first lease for my first apartment in the city. Making my residence here official-- or at least until I opt for getting a New York driver's license.
Through it all, I've managed to do this massive transition on my own accord. It's been an immense learning experience and had someone told me that this is what I would be doing after graduating college...I'd find it pretty hard to believe or think it possible to somehow survive. That's the thing about our preceptions....it seems like we often project the possibility of things to come as being one way based solely on our experience with an entirely unrelated event-- leading us to assume that we know what to expect, when in reality our expectations never correlate with the reality of the situation -- be it good or bad.
To the friends I've managed to stay in touch with these past 3 months. You've proven me wrong on so many accounts that it feels fantastic to know that the time vested in those friendships over the years have not been for nothing. I've managed to speak to the majority of you, if not all of you, on many occassions often being the one to receive the call rather than being the one to place the call. I've also been in great company these last 3 months having a few of you come crash at my place.
I've been through a lot of good these last 3 months and that's pretty damn refreshing to say. Cheers.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Rain, Trains & Buses
Living in a big city the immense convenience of having mass public transportation outlets (i.e. Trains, Subways and Busses) is that you no longer have to drive to every destination. You're free to let someone else worry about maneuvering through the grid lock of Midtown traffic or simply bypass it all via an underground subway. Living in a big city the immense inconvenience of having mass public transportation outlets (i.e. Subways, Busses and Taxi's) is that if the weather strikes you're left with a three hour commute to work and a city up-in-arms trying to figure out how to get onto Manhattan. Such was the case yesterday-- which was coincidentally my three month anniversary of living in Manhattan.
Here's the back story: At about 6 A.M. thunder and lightening were clashing outside my bedroom window. The rain was violently batting against the fire escape and I thought it almost calming that I could get another hour of sleep amidst the heavy rain. I was secretly hoping it would continue raining, so that I could leisurely stroll into work. It's often treacherous walking in the rain to the subway and from the subway to the office. I'm talking-- hiking up your pant legs -- Olympic style leaping over puddles and dodging splashes from passing taxi's. It's the obstacle course of the urban jungle.
As the lightning and thunder became increasingly violent, little did I know a tornado was touching ground in lower Brooklyn. It will later be reported that trees and cars were damaged in Bayridge, Brooklyn by the turbulent weather.
I wake up assuming its just a regular day. Getting ready for work and strolling to the subway stop just two blocks away from my apartment. The attendant tells me 'Q' train isn't running and neither is the 'B' because of the rain. So, I have to take the bus to the Atlantic/Pacific terminal down the road about 2.5 miles or so. At this point it's 7:45 A.M. and everyone is trying to get to work with no means of getting into Manhattan unless you walk the bridges, bike the bridges or take a car over the bridges.
The line to get on a bus was ridiculous. Everyone and their grandmother stood waiting in no particular organized manner for a bus to pull up to the curb, which coincidentally were all packed to the very stairs with people by the time it pulled up. This only lead me to get aggressive with the my neighbors by the time the 7th or 8th bus pulled up and I realized that, that was the only way I was getting to work. By now, I've already called in late and it's 8:15 A.M. Once on the bus, I was literally breathing on one lady and somehow supporting the entire body weight of another who had no where to hold onto as the bus was in motion. My nostrils stung of my cologne, the ladies horrendous odor of fried chicken, stale cigarette smoke and some combination of listerine and morning breath. As we stood in traffic, because the bus really wasn't going anywhere due to the back up of traffic from everyone taking a taxi, driving or in a car service vehicle, the people on the street passed us by. For a brief second I contemplated walking, but found comfort in the air conditioned bus and secretly hoped people would not all be going to the Atlantic Terminal. Bits and pieces of news started flowing around the bus as the passengers frantically got on their phones to tell their friends and family just to stay at home, call into work or find out what the news was saying. By 9:30 I had arrived to the terminal with every possible subway line out-of-order. There were no trains leaving Brooklyn to Manhattan. The subway paths were obstructed by debris and flooded with water from the storm. I opted for some breakfast (I thought I might as well make the best of it because I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon) and walked to my old subway station. As luck would have it the subway began running just as I walked into the turn-stile and I hoped on the 'Q' train only to get stuck over the Manhattan Bridge for 20 mins. before moving into Manhattan.
The short of it is that I wound up with a three hour commute to work arriving somewhere around 10:30 A.M. The only thing that could have possibly made the entire "Amazing Race- Manhattan Edition" worse is if it was raining. I found it both frustrating and hysterical at the same time to see hundreds of people swarm to the streets, walking and talking on their cellphones, pulling into bagel shops for a bite, looking around lost and wondering what to do to get to work. It was like Mardi Gras minus the drunken sheraides and flashing. Apparently, this is what the blackout was like a while back.
So what did I learn from all of the chaos and mass transit hysteria that ensued yesterday? It all comes with the territory and you gotta take it all in stride. I suppose this isn't exactly the outlook of a "New Yorker," but then again this city continues to surprise me in all its many splendors. I've been here for three months and I'm growing very much accustom to the lifestyle I craved way back in 3rd Grade when I said I'd move here someday. There's a lot going on every day and there's something to be said when I've managed to survive these three months on my own. It's exciting, it's a sense of accomplishment, it's rewarding and above all else it's what I wanted.
"If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere." I don't know if I can officially say "I've made it" in New York, but I'm certainly enjoying whatever it is that it takes to "making it."
Cheers.
Here's the back story: At about 6 A.M. thunder and lightening were clashing outside my bedroom window. The rain was violently batting against the fire escape and I thought it almost calming that I could get another hour of sleep amidst the heavy rain. I was secretly hoping it would continue raining, so that I could leisurely stroll into work. It's often treacherous walking in the rain to the subway and from the subway to the office. I'm talking-- hiking up your pant legs -- Olympic style leaping over puddles and dodging splashes from passing taxi's. It's the obstacle course of the urban jungle.
As the lightning and thunder became increasingly violent, little did I know a tornado was touching ground in lower Brooklyn. It will later be reported that trees and cars were damaged in Bayridge, Brooklyn by the turbulent weather.
I wake up assuming its just a regular day. Getting ready for work and strolling to the subway stop just two blocks away from my apartment. The attendant tells me 'Q' train isn't running and neither is the 'B' because of the rain. So, I have to take the bus to the Atlantic/Pacific terminal down the road about 2.5 miles or so. At this point it's 7:45 A.M. and everyone is trying to get to work with no means of getting into Manhattan unless you walk the bridges, bike the bridges or take a car over the bridges.
The line to get on a bus was ridiculous. Everyone and their grandmother stood waiting in no particular organized manner for a bus to pull up to the curb, which coincidentally were all packed to the very stairs with people by the time it pulled up. This only lead me to get aggressive with the my neighbors by the time the 7th or 8th bus pulled up and I realized that, that was the only way I was getting to work. By now, I've already called in late and it's 8:15 A.M. Once on the bus, I was literally breathing on one lady and somehow supporting the entire body weight of another who had no where to hold onto as the bus was in motion. My nostrils stung of my cologne, the ladies horrendous odor of fried chicken, stale cigarette smoke and some combination of listerine and morning breath. As we stood in traffic, because the bus really wasn't going anywhere due to the back up of traffic from everyone taking a taxi, driving or in a car service vehicle, the people on the street passed us by. For a brief second I contemplated walking, but found comfort in the air conditioned bus and secretly hoped people would not all be going to the Atlantic Terminal. Bits and pieces of news started flowing around the bus as the passengers frantically got on their phones to tell their friends and family just to stay at home, call into work or find out what the news was saying. By 9:30 I had arrived to the terminal with every possible subway line out-of-order. There were no trains leaving Brooklyn to Manhattan. The subway paths were obstructed by debris and flooded with water from the storm. I opted for some breakfast (I thought I might as well make the best of it because I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon) and walked to my old subway station. As luck would have it the subway began running just as I walked into the turn-stile and I hoped on the 'Q' train only to get stuck over the Manhattan Bridge for 20 mins. before moving into Manhattan.
The short of it is that I wound up with a three hour commute to work arriving somewhere around 10:30 A.M. The only thing that could have possibly made the entire "Amazing Race- Manhattan Edition" worse is if it was raining. I found it both frustrating and hysterical at the same time to see hundreds of people swarm to the streets, walking and talking on their cellphones, pulling into bagel shops for a bite, looking around lost and wondering what to do to get to work. It was like Mardi Gras minus the drunken sheraides and flashing. Apparently, this is what the blackout was like a while back.
So what did I learn from all of the chaos and mass transit hysteria that ensued yesterday? It all comes with the territory and you gotta take it all in stride. I suppose this isn't exactly the outlook of a "New Yorker," but then again this city continues to surprise me in all its many splendors. I've been here for three months and I'm growing very much accustom to the lifestyle I craved way back in 3rd Grade when I said I'd move here someday. There's a lot going on every day and there's something to be said when I've managed to survive these three months on my own. It's exciting, it's a sense of accomplishment, it's rewarding and above all else it's what I wanted.
"If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere." I don't know if I can officially say "I've made it" in New York, but I'm certainly enjoying whatever it is that it takes to "making it."
Cheers.
Monday, August 06, 2007
A White Stretch Limo with Texan Bullhorns
Sometimes bizarre can be exciting. At least that's how I would describe perhaps one of the most interesting experiences I've had in a big city reminiscent of a scene from a movie conceptualized to depict the endless possibilities of entertainment nestled inbetween the East River and Hudson also known as Manhattan.
It was Saturday night and I was playing host to yet another one of my mates from my study abroad experience in London-- RM who was in town for the night in true celebratory fashion. I was in my usual stomping ground of the Lower East Side at a bar/club called Keys on 13th St. between Ave. A and 1st Ave. when RM showed up all smiles and with a pocket of money itching to be spent on booze. He had his friend Colin tag along for the festivities-- assuring him that CM and I were a trip to hang with-- prompting us to guarantee them a good night out on the town.
Apart from the usual boozing at the bar, partying with some broads from FSU and bombing shots like it was our job.... CM had come to know and grow to love a entrepreneur who owns a white stretch limo with Texan horns latched to the grill appropriately named "Big Al." Up until the mid-1990s limo pulled up on Ave. A and CM swung the door open to reveal a velvet red leather interior with zebra print shag carpetting, purple track-trimmed lighting and a psychedlic light display resting atop the back windshield-- did the adventures with "Big Al" CM ranted about seem like that out of a Snoop Dogg Up-in-Smoke Soul Plane movie. I was proven wrong when I gave into temptation and for the betterment of my friend RM having a good time out in Manhattan to hop into the limo with CM, RM and our lovely female guests.
No sooner did the door close did the limo start making its way through the blocks of the Lower East Side. The shabby and surprisingly retro-tastic limo was decked out with munchies (uhmm) and adult beverages. The limo, while timeless, was surprisingly fitted with a quality sound system navigable by the iPod resting atop the beverage bar left to the discretion of its passengers. It really felt like something out of a novel written about NYC and while incredibly cheesey (albeit partially sketchy) it was unbelieveably fun. Big Al rolled down the chauffer window to pass his guests a 6 pack of Budweiser cans (to keep with true tradition these were no Bud lights) and other paraphenilia in which the passengers had the option to partake in-- I'll leave it at that for you to make your own assumptions. He was a generous man from what I caught of the back of his head....he appeared tall, black and bald but that's merely my own conclusion considering he didn't even turn around to pass the beer back or glance at who it was partaking in the car service he provides. It seemd CM and him had worked up a nice working relationship and CM had become a regular. I rode along intently listening to whatever song selections the girls made and taking in as much of the uber swanky environment I had volunteered to be in. It could honestly only be described as pimp-a-licious. That's what it felt like....as if I should be decked out in a purple velour suit with my pimp cane in one hand and my bling-studded pimp chalice in the other. If it sounds as bizarre as I'm making it seem...it really was.
The drive lasted a good 30 minutes with no particular destination in mind--we ended up back at the bar, so that our other friends could take a ride around. By the end of it all...you kind of wonder if it's all just a supped-up taxi ride with a great story to tell come Monday. Perhaps, but I gotta tell ya -- it makes for yet another ridiculous story about what this city has to offer.
It was Saturday night and I was playing host to yet another one of my mates from my study abroad experience in London-- RM who was in town for the night in true celebratory fashion. I was in my usual stomping ground of the Lower East Side at a bar/club called Keys on 13th St. between Ave. A and 1st Ave. when RM showed up all smiles and with a pocket of money itching to be spent on booze. He had his friend Colin tag along for the festivities-- assuring him that CM and I were a trip to hang with-- prompting us to guarantee them a good night out on the town.
Apart from the usual boozing at the bar, partying with some broads from FSU and bombing shots like it was our job.... CM had come to know and grow to love a entrepreneur who owns a white stretch limo with Texan horns latched to the grill appropriately named "Big Al." Up until the mid-1990s limo pulled up on Ave. A and CM swung the door open to reveal a velvet red leather interior with zebra print shag carpetting, purple track-trimmed lighting and a psychedlic light display resting atop the back windshield-- did the adventures with "Big Al" CM ranted about seem like that out of a Snoop Dogg Up-in-Smoke Soul Plane movie. I was proven wrong when I gave into temptation and for the betterment of my friend RM having a good time out in Manhattan to hop into the limo with CM, RM and our lovely female guests.
No sooner did the door close did the limo start making its way through the blocks of the Lower East Side. The shabby and surprisingly retro-tastic limo was decked out with munchies (uhmm) and adult beverages. The limo, while timeless, was surprisingly fitted with a quality sound system navigable by the iPod resting atop the beverage bar left to the discretion of its passengers. It really felt like something out of a novel written about NYC and while incredibly cheesey (albeit partially sketchy) it was unbelieveably fun. Big Al rolled down the chauffer window to pass his guests a 6 pack of Budweiser cans (to keep with true tradition these were no Bud lights) and other paraphenilia in which the passengers had the option to partake in-- I'll leave it at that for you to make your own assumptions. He was a generous man from what I caught of the back of his head....he appeared tall, black and bald but that's merely my own conclusion considering he didn't even turn around to pass the beer back or glance at who it was partaking in the car service he provides. It seemd CM and him had worked up a nice working relationship and CM had become a regular. I rode along intently listening to whatever song selections the girls made and taking in as much of the uber swanky environment I had volunteered to be in. It could honestly only be described as pimp-a-licious. That's what it felt like....as if I should be decked out in a purple velour suit with my pimp cane in one hand and my bling-studded pimp chalice in the other. If it sounds as bizarre as I'm making it seem...it really was.
The drive lasted a good 30 minutes with no particular destination in mind--we ended up back at the bar, so that our other friends could take a ride around. By the end of it all...you kind of wonder if it's all just a supped-up taxi ride with a great story to tell come Monday. Perhaps, but I gotta tell ya -- it makes for yet another ridiculous story about what this city has to offer.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Dem' Yankees
In the account that this blog is capturing the many firsts of this wonderous city...I attended my first Yankee's game last night versus the Chicago White Sox. While an entertaining game -- it was a reminder of how patient, slow and steady America's favorite past time really is. The experience was an experience none-the-less with seats in the top tier out in right field providing a nice perspective of the beloved diamond. The only thing I kept thinking about was what the stadium looked like when baseball greats (Ruth, DiMaggio -- among others) played back when baseball became "America's favorite past time." It was also a nice outting with the fellas (CM, his friend Z and AH)-- where we grabbed a quick brewski at Stan's Bar just across from Gate 6 of the stadium. In a game that boasted an impressive 8 Home Runs with 7 different hitters -- and what could have been A-Rod's 500th Home Run (he disappointed) -- I was told the Yanks hadn't hit so many in a single game since 1939 making history. It was really sumthin' (no better word to describe it) to be sitting amidst all those rowdy/belligerent/loyal Yankees fans...an experience I soaked up and realized was so much a part of history based on generations of fathers bringing their sons to games and watching legends dawn the beloved pin stripe uniform. But perhaps the most nostalgic feeling of my evening out to Yankee Stadium was its ability to transcend me back to those ridiculously awesome Gator home games. The street at 161st in the Bronx, mirrored our prized University Avenue, but crowded with herds of Yankee fans adorned in the navy blue and pinstripe jerseys. The bars lining the street opposite the stadium just below the subway tracks looming above overflowed with patrons. Squeezing into Stan's-- the only thing I could say was "Gator City anyone?" It was back to the groping sessions, awkward brushes with strangers and elbowing to get to the bar for a 16 oz draft beer. It's plastic cup politics.
Everywhere fans, which oddly seemed on or about my age maybe a few years older were there to root on their team (obviously), but what I came to realize is much like us Gator Alumni and once Gator student represent the Orange & Blue with our obsessive chanting, trash talking, color-wearing pride and National Championship Title smearing........the Yanks were New Yorker's Gators. To them it....it's the school spirit...the pride and joy of their state, borough or city. It's their investment, their past -- their best days (our college days). I realized that--that's why people were such aficianados about the sport and about the team. That's why there was so much talk about "jumping on the band wagon" and NY Yankee hats sold on nearly every street corner. It's their Gator Chomp, their Swamp, their University Avenue, their 3 National Titles (26 Championships for them). That's awesome. Granted I know little to nothing about the real history of the Yankees and never really paid baseball much attention until it counts, but I can't say that it wouldn't be fun to become a fan of a major league baseball team in my new home state. Undoubtedly-- I'll do my research into the Mets before afiliating myself to any one team without knowing all the ins and outs.
Looking back now at last night-- I feel a little spoiled. I'm surprised I was in awe of the events considering the insanity I've witnessed while at UF. It's almost like-- once you've won 3 National Titles in a row... the rest of the sporting world seems......menial. I said seems.
Everywhere fans, which oddly seemed on or about my age maybe a few years older were there to root on their team (obviously), but what I came to realize is much like us Gator Alumni and once Gator student represent the Orange & Blue with our obsessive chanting, trash talking, color-wearing pride and National Championship Title smearing........the Yanks were New Yorker's Gators. To them it....it's the school spirit...the pride and joy of their state, borough or city. It's their investment, their past -- their best days (our college days). I realized that--that's why people were such aficianados about the sport and about the team. That's why there was so much talk about "jumping on the band wagon" and NY Yankee hats sold on nearly every street corner. It's their Gator Chomp, their Swamp, their University Avenue, their 3 National Titles (26 Championships for them). That's awesome. Granted I know little to nothing about the real history of the Yankees and never really paid baseball much attention until it counts, but I can't say that it wouldn't be fun to become a fan of a major league baseball team in my new home state. Undoubtedly-- I'll do my research into the Mets before afiliating myself to any one team without knowing all the ins and outs.
Looking back now at last night-- I feel a little spoiled. I'm surprised I was in awe of the events considering the insanity I've witnessed while at UF. It's almost like-- once you've won 3 National Titles in a row... the rest of the sporting world seems......menial. I said seems.
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