Moving without losing it in NYC

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My phone rang as I tried to shed the winter layers of puffy down coat, hat, scarves (yes, it’s so cold I’ve been layering two), and fleece zip-up. I wouldn’t have answered, but it was a college friend I’ve been playing social media tag with for a few days.

“Hey,” I said breathlessly.

He laughed. “Uh, hi. Is it a good time?”

“Yes! I just walked up three flights, and I’m taking my coat off. But yes!”

“Three flights?” He asked. “You moved from the old place?” He meant the tiny, ground floor studio on Central Park West. “You loved it there.”

“Did not.”

“I thought you did.”

“I loved it, because I had to,” I reasoned. “I’ve moved on.”

Here’s a question from Anna:

Moving without losing it in NYC

Expensive attention to detail

So the iPad, huh?

And Obama’s speech, yeah?

Some not-so-breaking news: I’ve been working on some writing, and I think the hardest parts are done until next week when I start some new projects.

Expensive attention to detail

NYC Bookmobile

Space is at such a premium in NYC that you have to figure out innovative storage solutions. Like keeping your winter clothes in a kitchen cabinet or storing things in the oven. Preferably not the forgettable, flammable kind.

I once dated a guy who lived in the East Village and had to wash his dishes in his miniature bathtub. It worked, because the bathtub was in the kitchen anyway.

And you could roll down the sloped floor to the miniature toilet, which was older than his parents.

I’d shower on the fire escape for an apartment in that neighborhood.

NYC Bookmobile

If the shoehorn fits

My co-worker Samson is a bit of an oddball. He was born in Nigeria, and then went to boarding school in London and college in upstate New York. Now he’s a reformed skirt chaser in NYC.

We go to lunch a few times a week and find ourselves - and sometimes eavesdroppers - cackling at the banter back and forth.

And then there are the IM conversations.

If the shoehorn fits

How you got here, or You people are sick

I don’t look at the analytics on my blog too often, as I tend to forget I have access to them. And then I forgot how I have access to them. Which password is it? Is it the one that has to have at least one number?

Oh God, now it’s asking me for the name of my school. I went to a lot of them. Uh. How did I answer this fours years ago?

Jesus. What did I even look like four years ago?

Anyway, I looked at the analytics over the long weekend. I was curious about the keywords that were bringing new people here, and oh my God, you people are sick. Please keep visiting.

These are some real searches that brought people to my blog:

How you got here, or You people are sick

These hos be all up in my Twitter

Technological innovation is led by porn. Anyone who knows anything about the Internet will tell you this.

Those barely legal schoolgirls who ride the guy who drives the short bus are early adopters.

The skanks were the first to get an iPhone back when it was really expensive, and no one could get over the touchscreen. Trust.

So of course random porn followers are on Twitter. Sometimes they have regular names and then you look at their accounts and dude, the avatar is a vulva.

These hos be all up in my Twitter

So I married a metropolis

There’s nothing too unique about my NYC story.

I visited for the first time when I young and impressionable and barely giving my training bra a workout.

Like many people from small towns where everyone knows everyone (and probably also that person’s brother and no good cousin Petey), I was blown away.

This city full of bustling strangers, culture, both history and the future, this is where I’d live someday when I grew up.

Maybe by then I’d have boobs, too.

Here’s a question from Luisa:

So I married a metropolis

Not punctuation this time

It’s the start of our session. I’m eating a piece of cake Jing’s mom brought me, and Jing’s giving me a recap of the latest happenings at school.

Report cards come up. Jing mentions that she never sat out in gym all grading period, but she still got a lower grade. I ask if girls don’t swim when they have their periods. She nods.

Then she drops a bombshell.

Not punctuation this time

Big lights will inspire you (and the Chorus at PS 22)

“Empire State of Mind” has become this ubiquitous tune I hear everywhere. It’s all over the radio, being sung in subway cars, implanting itself in my brain.

Normally, I’d burn out, but I’m still digging it. Alicia Keys has her own version, which I got to hear live when I went to a Late Show with David Letterman taping.

It was wow.

Big lights will inspire you (and the Chorus at PS 22)

Making new friends in NYC

New Yorkers have a reputation for being unfriendly. This isn’t news to anyone.

And that stereotype? Sometimes true. People are busy and gruff sometimes. Many come here to “make it” in some capacity and only look out for themselves.

I moved to NYC with exactly zero friends or family members waiting for me. I didn’t worry about loneliness, because I’ve always been independent and to put it nicely, blunt.

But even the snarkiest introverts need someone to love them. I mean, especially those types. A cactus needs sunshine. You get where I’m going?

Here’s a question from Lisette:

Making new friends in NYC