If only my mom weren't on Facebook

Today I got sick of reading the status updates of people I went to high school with and my cousins' wives. I'm really fucking tired of hearing about nothing but their kids and husbands. There are a few people in particular I have in mind. With every post it becomes more and more painfully obvious that these women have no real identity of their own.

I had the urge to post in my own status:

I'm so goddamn glad I am not participating in the nightmare of suburban domesticity. I don't know how you people can all be so fucking complacent.

I'm gonna go listen to some trashy goth music and drink wine and make some art now. Just to celebrate.

Come on, just post in your blog already.

Hey! It's been two years for realsies now. I'm a two-year New York veteran...it's not SO long but you have to start somewhere, right?

I'm pretty solid that I like it here. I'm happy, I wanna stay. So here's to lots more years. Anyway... I started a new post on my phone last week I'm gonna go finish it now. So a more official-type New Year post is forthcoming, I swear.

Manhattanhenge

Once a year the sun sets perfectly in line with the the street grid in Manhattan. If nothing else, it was fun to drag the Starlet and a skeptical Thinky Face out to the Shake Shack at Madison Square Park and catch the sunset from the East Side. Thinky Face came around when she saw the event and the resulting awesome photos. These were shot with my iPhone, and make me ashamed that I no longer carry a better camera around with me.





kyle the girl
(on iPhone)

As you may or may not be aware, Central Park is awesome.

I actually haven't been to Central Park much since I moved here but on Veteran's day Roommate #1 and I both had the day off and we decided to take a stroll through the park in search of the Castle, to which neither of us had ever really been. It was so much fun just strolling and chatting and strolling some more. I'm also very happy to report that the carousel is WAY worth it! If only we'd had a better camera... But here are a couple of pics from my iPhone!









PS - Today is my one year anniversary. I made it. I've been here in New York for a whole, real year. I am officially a New Yorker!

It's autumn in New York!

Leaves! Leaves everywhere!!

I went to Brunch Club with the Sound Scientist and my new friend from L.A. who is a costume designer on Saturday at a place in Park Slope called NONO Kitchen. It was so yummy, but the beignets were a little substandard. JH always made really good beignets when he used to work at a little coffee shop place in the French Quarter. His were better than Cafe Du Monde even, but maybe that's because I loved him and anything he did for me made me happy. That was a really good time in my life, right after we moved to New Orleans, when I was waitressing at the most hellacious restaurant ever (name omitted to minimize my embarassment) and JH was a short order cook and we felt so lucky to be young and alive and in the coolest city in America.

Anyway, it was a rainy rainy day and Sound Scientist and I stumbled on a golden-leaved street. Gold leaves everywhere! Gold on the trees, gold on the street, gold on the sidewalk and the brownstone steps and even falling on my windshield. It was absolutely gorgeous and it made me feel so lucky to be young and alive and in the greatest city in America.

I'm in love with New York again. The blustering wind of fall has kissed me on the nose and made me remember that feeling I had last November when I first arrived here for real, for good, for life. I can feel the holidays hanging in the air. I never really liked the holiday season very much but there really is something special about this time of year in New York. There is something exciting about steam from the subway grates and steam from my breath and steam from the hot dog stands. There's something impressive about the way women still manage to dress for fashion in freezing weather and the red Starbucks cups and the die-hard street fair vendors.

Even though it was dark when I left the dance studio the other day at five-thirty, I was just so excited to skip down to St. Mark's with The Grecian and Mama Squirrel for falafels at Mamoun's and to shop for new stripey elbow length fingerless gloves. The air is electric again. Something good is about to happen.

Today was a momentous occasion. I actually said, "I can't wait to go home!"

Walking down Hudson Street to a new subway line for the first time I
felt a combination of calm, hope, and contentment. I haven't felt
like this since the months following my return to New Orleans, when
the world was my oyster and I was confident I could take on anything.
Before I was in a hurtful relationship. Before I was pigeonholed into
leaving my house. Before I was struggling to get afloat or new in town
or discovering single life.

I looked around me and sighed blissfully. New York finally feels like
my home!

HI! J/K. LMNOP!

LMNOP stopped in to NYC for a few days on her way to Amsterdam for a rendez-vous with an ex BF's BFf, who may or may not become her FWB. We had bunches of fun! Some of her other New Yorker friends met up with us; Adjunct went with us to the Top of the Rock, which was sadly not that impressive, since it had been raining all day. We amused
ourselves with the funky light show going on in one of the foyers (brought to you by some sponsors) though, and seeing the Empire State and Chrysler buildings shooting up through the fog was really cool. They reminded me of the funky quartz pillars embedded in the walls around the escalators.

The next night we met up on 7th Avenue and cruised around the West Village for a while before heading to Cowgirl for dinner. (LMNOP had requested a good salad, and their "all chopped up" is consistently hailed to me as one of the best in town.) A few watermelon martinis and other, tequilaful beverages later, we were giggling into the night, wandering around in circles looking for a good rocks margarita. We settled on Agave; a friend of a friend works there, and I suspected they would do well by us. They most certainly did for L-, but as per usual, a bottle of rum caught my eye and I ordered a mojito instead.

We chatted and slurped up our lime-y drinks, talking about how well I fit in New York and how L- wants so badly to follow her dreams. I tried to convince her to just not come back from her England/Amsterdam trip.

Speaking of Amsterdam, L- admitted that she was a bit nervous about smoking the dope for the first time. She's 26, and never puffed on a joint in her life! I told her she'd be fine. "You've smoked a cigarette before, right?" She looked up at me like a deer in the headlights. Before I knew it, we were standing on the corner with a pack of Marlboro Lights, tearing through nearly an entire box of matches trying to get a light despite the summer breeze and our tipsy giggles. "This is gross!" she coughed. All I could do was laugh. "You're not doing it right! Actually, it's not good for you anyway. It's probably better if you don't do it right!"

I wasn't a very good teacher, but I was at least appreciative of her company. She's such a sweet, awesome gal and she's working as hard to figure out this life thing as I am--she's just really scared, the way I used to be. She's got it. She knows what she has to do, and she'll get there with the right nudge. At dinner I looked straight at her and said, "Tearing my life up by the roots and moving to New York was the greatest thing I have ever done to advance my personal happiness. I would love nothing more than to hear that you got on that plane, flew to England, and never came back." I know she'll be back in New Orleans in a couple of weeks and that's okay. These things take time.

Thanks so much for visiting, LMNOP! I had so much fun and I miss you already!

My new favorite mini-vacation

<- That's me!

I had a good day last Saturday--like a really good day!--and I can't believe I'm just now getting around to writing it up!

Sundays are usually my favorites, but in light (darkness?) of my drunken mishaps, I have to say Saturday won out. After all, I spent it with Thinky Face and her man-friend in Coney Island! I never once felt third-wheely either. I think the best couples to hang out with are couples in that awkward not-quite-dating-kinda-friends limbo for sure. I love you married folks, but seriously, it was so pleasant to hang out with a couple and not hear them talk about each other the whole time. Plus they were all cute and awkward, and it's fun to watch your friends be cute and awkward with man- or lady-friends.

Anyway, we had a great ride on the good ol' Q out to the beach, which doesn't take long from my apartment at all, and is actually quite pleasant, since most of the ride is outdoors and you can look out the windows. It's not all that exciting, but there's something to be said for sunshine. There were more than a few Mermaid Parade-goers in our car, even though we were very much late for the start.

Anyway, the best was yet to come. The crowd in the street was thick and teeming with folks dressed up like sea creatures. The sun beat down brightly on us and the moisture in the air was palpable. Women walked by us wearing nothing over their breasts but paint and glitter. Almost everyone was drinking a beer, if not something more potent. It was all so.... familiar! "Mardi Gras!" I shouted. "It's just like bein' home!!" I wished I had dressed up too.

As it was our beachcomber clothes were more than appropriate. It didn't take too long for us to get bored with the parade (which is not like Mardi Gras at all-it's more like Homecoming meets Halloween), and after a bit we hurried over to the Cyclone for a rickety ride on America's most famous roller coaster.

Thinky and I hop-skipped into the second seat behind a couple of Guidos (hey, it's Brooklyn) and man-friend settled into the seat behind us. We all threw our hands up as we ascended the first hill and then....screamed for our lives! Really!! That thing feels like it's going to fall apart underneath you! Despite feeling like I'd just lost a boxing match at the end ("Ow, my brain!" Thinky said), it was really awesome. I can't wait to go again!

After that it was off to the boardwalk for real live Coney Island hot dogs. I'm not much of a carnivore, and usually refuse even the choicest cuts of cows and pigs, but I am a sucker for an excellent hot dog. Especially with relish and ketchup! Yum! Ours were, frankly (get it?), the best weiners we'd ever tasted (bada-bing!).

We made our way onto the beach, which was actually very pleasant. I'm not much of a beach person, but I have to say it was a welcome change from the concrete jungle. We took off our sandals and wiggled our toes in the sand a bit, enjoying cheese fries and beer (Coney Island's version of health food) and then after a while we decided to wiggled our toes in the ocean instead. My! That was...brisk! I hadn't been in the ocean since ten minutes in Alabama more than a year ago and before that in the Mediterranean Sea in France. Neither of those instances could possibly have prepared me for the freezing murk at Coney Island. Still, after a couple of minutes it was nice, provided you don't mind not being able to see past six inches deep. It quite reminded me of Lake Erie, but with an undertow.

With the hem of my dress wet and salty I danced around the beach for a bit and then we all agreed it was time for more junk food. A feast was found at one of the less-crowded stands! It included onion rings, a corn dog, Italian ice, root beer, Italian sausage, chicken ke-bobs, ice cream, and beer. I enjoyed two of those things and shared the root beer with Thinky.

Our bellies were full and our energy was drained from the sun and the surf. It was time to go home. We packed into the car with some paraders. It just never got old to look at these blue guys...and they didn't just look funny, they acted funny too:

As the train rolled away I gazed out the window contently at pools and realized they belonged to a cluster of tall hotels--and I can't help but imagine the most adorable little overnight trip staying at one of those places. With boardwalk food on the moonlit beach for dinner and waking up to an amazing view of the ocean and the Cyclone... Now I just need to get a friend on board. It'll be so nice!

New York took me on a date.

Remember nights on the beach when you were a kid? It was like being on a deserted island. Like Lord of the Flies, except fun. Maybe it's because I spent my first twelve summers on the beach next to Lake Erie, but the combination of a quiet, breezy night and the smooth sound of water always make me feel like a little girl again.

I am sitting on the ledge of a fountain in midtown, staring at the tourists and the traffic as they pass the Rock and Radio City Music Hall. I just left a couple of friends after seeing a movie together; they went on their respective ways home but I could not bring myself to leave. It was ten o'clock on a breezy, warm night and New York was whispering in my ear,"stay, darling. Stay with me just a little longer."

Here, on this breezy, beachy night by the fountain, a couple is impressed that I can use their digital camera with ease. "I used to do this for a living," I mumble sheepishly. The combined roars of the water behind and the traffic ahead cannot stop this overwhelming feeling of quiet in me. I stroll up to the Mr. Softee truck, purchase a vanilla cone, and nibble at it as I leisurely breathe in the soul of Midtown on a Saturday night. There are clusters of kids walking around, like they had broken from the rest of their class trip for the evening. Gaggles of girls and boys with chaperones, staring up in awe or giggling to each other the way kids do. "I could live here," I think. It's so pleasant, so quiet. I choose not to think about what it's like at five on a Wednesday.

I saunter down W. 50th street and pass the Rainbow Room. I think of my grandmother's picture with her college classmates atop the Empire State Building, all those young women in trenchcoat and heels. I wish I had on a trenchcoat and heels, and a gorgeous dress and a handsome fellow on my arm, like my grandfather, so handsome in that photo on the night they were engaged. I want someone to treat me like a trenchcoat and heels kind of girl. I want someone to just...treat me. I wonder for a moment if my dad would take me out to the Rainbow Room if he were alive. Just the two of us, dining fancy. Dad and his baby. The tourists don't mind the couple of wistful tears trickling down my cheek; they're too busy watching a limousine pull up to the carpet. I don't even bother glancing to see who gets out.

The plaza behind the Rock is like a boardwalk, rife with families and the soft clanging of the hardware on the flags. A few parties dine in the rink restaurant below, but it is mostly empty, watched over by golden Prometheus. A girl somewhere behind me says, "I wish I could ice skate." For just a moment I mistake her voice for my inner monologue.

I curl around the corner at 5th Avenue and nearly miss St. Patrick's Cathedral because of the scaffolding that spans its facade. When I was fourteen I took my first plane ride and visited my sister here for Easter. We made sure to take a picture of St. Patrick's so Mom would think we went to church on Easter Sunday. Tears well up under my lids again; I am overwhelmed with the joy that I live here. I live here. I did it. This place that has awed and inspired me since I was a child is now my home.... New York is my home.

Fifth is like a ghost town; only the occasional group of window shoppers here and there and a few lone pedestrians. The stores are all closed and dark, with the exception of the neon lights in the window at Louis Vuitton, all lit up like a spaceship. Then, like a second brightly lit beacon from another world, I see the cube of the Apple store. It's open twenty-four hours a day and I lost part of my case for my phone... It figures, on a gorgeous night like this, a night that reminds me of the beach on Lake Erie and being a little girl, a night that whispers sweet nothings into my ear... I would wind up in what is for me the adult equivalent of a candy store.

Thanks, New York. I had a great time.