Blog

All about New York


Feeling the heat

I made my first trip to Washington Square this Sunday morning to see the arch, to take a couple of photos...to be tempted to jump into the fountain. I believe I would have jumped into the fountain had I not just this morning semi-successfully ironed the only shirt I own that will make SML exclaim, “You’re dressed cuter than me!”

This week hasn’t been particularly fantastic for me, mostly because of that obnoxious heat wave that shat upon the city early this week. I would have obsessed much more about the heat and humidity had I not been nervous about an upcoming appointment with my new doctor, what with all of the examining and questioning of my beverage choices.

Moving to new health insurance is always difficult because you deal with more expensive premiums, you don’t know your doctor or the clinic, and you have to explain to each new doctor that although it says very plainly in your records that you have mild asthma, that you do in fact have deadly asthma. I changed my story a little bit this time and added notes about cousins, moles, and cancer and “Look at how many moles I have, and that coin-sized one on my back? IT ITHCES.”

A couple of scenarios were going through my head at this time, like maybe he was going to laugh and say that my moles looked fine, that this was all in my head. And he sort of did, except that he mentioned he’d just take off the mole instead. “I’m going to do two things for you today: Steroids! And I will take off that mole!”

The steroid shot was fine. I think. I did question him about it as he got closer with the needle. “How exactly will this shot allow me to breathe on a four-mile run?” And as he was preparing another needle, a needle I presume to numb my coin-sized mole, I finally realized: HE’S GOING TO CUT ME.

It was in that moment of terror that I must have collapsed because the only thing I remember next was being startled awake by a man in a lab coat. It was an awkward moment or two before I realized where I was, and an even longer period of time having my pulse monitored and discussing my irrational fears. We mutually agreed to go our separate ways that day, but I suspect I’ll be back in four to six months with a self-diagnosed case of latrophobia.


Gotham

It’s been nearly four weeks since I moved to New York City. This week marked the beginning of SML’s new job and also the beginning of very, very long days spent watching Sex and the City with my cat. Those people who enjoy working? I do not understand them.

This picture was taken the first week that we moved into Manhattan, just near the halfway point on the Brooklyn Bridge. It was taken on a humid day, one of many humid days that would eventually drive me to the brink of insanity, then to a Home Depot for an air-conditioner, and then a same-day delivery order NO MATTER THE COST.

SML insists that I’m the hardest person to move with because I get mean and mouthy about stupid things. But I just want to point out, for the record if there is one, that when our couch could not fit through the tiny door that is the entrance to my teeny apartment, I kept myself calm and collected. And when it cost more than the couch itself to be taken away to god knows where? Charge it to the credit card!

And just outside of my apartment where the ceiling is collapsing? Right now as I’m typing this? SEE HOW CALM I AM?

In all seriousness, the humidity is absolutely the worst part about living New York City. The best part, however, are all of those adults walking around the streets with ice cream cones. I’ve never seen that before, I feel like I’m living in an amusement park and those yellow cars that pick people up are really just bumper cars.


Long Overdue

I am embarrassed to say that I took this picture nearly two months ago and I am just getting around to posting something on this website. I figure it’s better late than never, and I would have had even more pictures had any of them actually turned out. I thought I would have gotten home from this trip to New York City and be delighted with beautiful photos of the fall colors in Central Park. Instead they were so blurry and lopsided it’s as though I were running through the park spinning in circles, or I don’t know, maybe doped up on caffeine and unable to hold or stand still. Whatever the case, I have fond memories ‘taking’ those photos.

This picture of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was taken the next day, apparently when I was feeling more at ease with myself. It was my first time and probably the last time I’ll go to this parade because my god, the crowd. It was suffocating.


NYC

SML's parents came in to town this last week, so we packed our bags and drove an incredible six hours to New York. On trips in the past it has only taken somewhere between three and four hours, but I kept making us stop to dine at special places like Dunkin' Donuts and McDonalds.

I have always very much liked New York City, but everything seemed a bit too fast-paced and rude this time. We had an uncomfortable moment on the subway when a woman began yelling and cussing at another woman for pushing her children, an incident SML thinks he may have had something to do with when the subway car's doors closed in on him and trapped him in-between.

The hi-lite of this trip was seeing the musical 'Wicked'. I took this picture from the hotel room just after we returned from the show. It's all very romantic looking from this perspective, but I'm going to have to say I was very happy to return to the busy-but-not-too-busy streets of Boston.


Flatiron Building

SML and I took another trip to New York this weekend, hoping it would allow us to see more of the city. As we ventured out, the city seemed to grow five sizes larger than I remembered it being, becoming a lot less manageable.  We wanted to go out on the town this trip, something we haven't been able to get into since moving to the east coast.  

The nightlife in New York is certainly alive, but I chose a dive bar in the West Village, a place with 'Boots' in the name thinking it would be filled with cowboys, or at the very least a mechanical bull.  Instead of those things I found a dark room with barrels for tables and antlers hanging on the wall, all pulsating from the Techno music.  

SML and I nestled into a corner with wide eyes, gulping down our drinks so we could make our escape when an older gentleman put his arm around SML and began a conversation.  I smiled and nodded at the two because I couldn't hear anything, but SML nodded a stern no instead and guided us to the other side of the room prompting me to ask, "What did he say?"

"He offered me crack and sex." 

"He did?  But he's so old."