Posts under ‘I Live NY’
My favorite time of year
I tend to leave my camera at home, unless I know I’m going to do or see something that I want to capture. Lately, though, I’ve tried to bring the camera on walks around the neighborhood when I run errands. After an unusually mild Halloween, New York got cold yesterday. Central Park’s leaves are finally catching up to some of the colorful ones I snapped pictures of in the last two weeks. Sadly, most of those leaves, particularly those at the playground, have now been shed. Winter’s coming, and I’m not quite ready.
Alone and not lonely
The radiator woke me with its hot hiss. Alone this weekend, Cade away in Philadelphia at his college homecoming weekend, fall seems to have settled down over New York City. The hem of its yellow-orange-red dress lay crumpled on the ground.
I love this neighborhood
Me: I was waiting for you near the subway entrance, and I saw that lady that always hangs out over there and asks, “Can you help me get something to eat?” all up in your face. She was standing there and asking people for money. Then this guy in a leisure suit - brown pants and jacket and a turquoise shirt - exited the station. She asked him, and he just smiled and shrugged. He started to laugh and then the lady started to laugh, but kept asking, “Can you help me get something to eat?! Can you?! Help me?!” She was just hysterical. Then I started to laugh. It was like we’d all just realized how absurd life is.
Pre-poop bag grooming
Cade and I are sitting in chairs at a hair salon, waiting for his name to be called. I look up from the magazine I’m thumbing through when a man’s cellphone ring pierces the quiet. It is coming from the tall, sloppy-looking man who is paying at the cash register.
The back-up weekend
This weekend was about the back-up plan. On Friday night, Cade and I decided to head downtown to see a burlesque cooking show called “Eat Me.” Clever, yes? I didn’t know how a burlesque cooking show would go down, but I had a few unsavory images in mind. Stray pubes in the stir fry. A singed pasty. Some schtick with a pickle. Alas, I never got to find out, as the burlesque cooking show was sold out. If you’re wondering what the crowd in the line outside the door looked like, just imagine cat’s eye glasses, canvas totes, cigarettes, and one leather-pant wearing gay grandpa guarding the door. Fabulousness, indeed!
I was disappointed that my only exposure to burlesque would remain the movie version of Gypsy. (Does Cabaret on stage and screen count, too)? Cade and I continued to walk downtown in the dark industrial area. Before we knew it, we arrived at the World Trade Center site. It’s amazing how quiet it is in the Financial District on a Friday night. Cade and I briefly stopped to think about the fifth anniversary of 9/11. People had placed flowers and small flags through a fence around the site. It was nothing as extravagant as the hundreds of notes and pictures I remember seeing a year after the Twin Towers fell, when I visited with a group of people from college for spring break.
Cade and I walked until he could see the lights of New Jersey and hear the lap of water. We walked around yachts and found a Mexican food place at which to relax. We proceeded to eat, drink, and act like we’re married.
A hot dog stand you could have a beer with
If I could get over my aversion to eating something with the word “dog” in it (never mind that I do drink salty dogs), I’d go to Gray’s Papaya. I love the ethos.
Let there be light
Today has been exasperating. 1) I woke up to find out the main bedroom/living area light of my studio apartment had burnt out. This is problematic, because the ceiling is extremely high and my apartment gets almost no natural light. And my super, he’s not so super. I had to get ready for work in the kitchen. 2) The bus driver ignored my request for a stop, so I had to walk four extra blocks to work. I’m not lazy, but if I wanted to walk, I’d have taken the subway to work.
Labor Day Weekend
The lighting on this sign suggests where one might go after ordering the meatloaf.
