Strangers on the subway

Halloween was pretty fun, I was a crooked cop and went around arresting people with my plastic handcuffs. But I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut on the subway. I took a beer onto the subway on my way out Saturday and took a seat next to a bum. I looked over and he had a large can hidden in a McDonald's bag. He looked over at me and saw my bottle in a brown bag. Then we both started laughing.. what are the chances of that? He started talking to me about how he'd been hanging around this theatre in Midtown and saw all these workers running around the last two weeks. Turns out, the Rolling Stones are playing there and he was utterly in awe. But if you're a loudmouth on the subway, other randoms take that as an invitation to start talking to you as well. Which is kinda cool.

"Yea, it's my sub."

The great thing about New York is that you step outside your apartment, and there are always new faces to see on the streets, in the local food joints, and on the subway. There are always new, different people to talk to. Just now, I met a Haitian lady at the Chinese place around the corner who was mad that her 16 yr old son didn't pick up her phone call. Then she started telling me about her $500,000 house on Long Island, her house in Florida, and her house in Haiti. Everyone's got a story and they're all looking for someone to listen. It's entertaining.

There's this deli next door to my apartment that makes the greatest Philly Cheese Steak sub for $3.50. The only problem is that they take a good 5-10 minutes to grill up.. but it's so worth it. Anyways, I went in there for lunch today and it was kinda empty, but in those 10 minutes, the place got jacked. Like 5 people rolled into this tiny place at once.

So I'm waiting and waiting and my sub finally comes up. I grab it off the counter and this girl, probably in her late teens, is staring like I just grabbed her sub or something. Just glaring. Real intense. So I say something to the effect of, "Yea, it's my sub." And she just blows up.. "Did I SAY something to you?"

"No, but you were lookin'."

And this chick goes off, spouting about how she can look at whatever she whats, who do I think I am to say that to her... on and on. I shrug it off like its nothing, because it was an honest comment. I walk away from her (she's still muttering to herself), pay for my sub and leave. She eventually gets so flustered she walks out of the place.

Mind you, Morningside is not a bad area, but it's still predominantly black. Most people are cool with me being here, but occasionally you get people bugging out at you. It's like she'd never seen an Asian American - one that's educated, speaks perfect English, and talks back. All I thought was that she might've thought that I was stealing her sub when in fact she was just outright staring rudely so I called her out in front of a bunch of people. I got to her so bad that she took off out of embarrassment.

Ah, the joys of button pushing!

Lost in Transit

I had my first major "New York" experience. Last night around 10pm, I left my apartment to get some stuff printed at Kinko's. In New York, you have to plan your route through the subway. I like to jot it down a piece of paper along with an address, intersection, and phone number. In this case, for one reason or another, I wrote down a second location as well.

When I first got down to the subway, I let the first train go because it wasn't the one I wanted. Then I realized there's only part time service available.. so I have to adjust my route and make a couple transfers. But it's also night so you have to wait up to half an hour between trains.

I get to the first Kinko's and it turns out that it's only a FedEx drop station! Back to the subway I go. The second location was at 34th and 2nd ave.. but this location is closed for renovations and it reroutes me up to 37th and 3rd ave. By the time I make it there, it's midnight and Mr. European is hordeing the color laser printer with his 500 page booklet.

$120 and 1.5 hrs later, I'm ready to head home. But what I'm realizing is that there is no easy route to get from the East Side to Morningside in West Harlem. It have to take the 7 from Grand Central to the Times Square, walk the tunnels over to Port Authority and finally hop on an A or C to get me home.

The train takes a good 30-40 minutes at Grand Central and another 10-15 at Port Authority. I'm so relieved to see a train that I hop on, blindly. But the next thing I know... I'm in effing Queens! I'd gotten on the E train!

I wait another 30 minutes to get back over to Midtown and say Eff It, I'm taking a $15 cab ride home. In bed by 4:30 am. Starving because I was supposed to eat while getting stuff printed but got lost instead.

But ya know what, none of that phases me. I woke up at 8 this morning, put on a suit, a pair of shiny black shoes, a nice belt, then proceeded to talk my way into a job at my first interview in NY! Lady said I more than demonstrated that I was qualified for the job, will fax my resume over to her client, and will contact me midweek next week with more details. The office is on 43rd and 5th ave, real close to Times Square. It's an industrial design job that deals with corporate sponsorship within both pharamceauticals and high end electronics.

The secretary said my name even sounds like a high end designer.

I moved here Sunday, spent Monday in Philly, and really only started "NY Life" on Tuesday. And I have a job already. Amazing.

Settled

I moved into my apartment Sunday and I'm never driving that much again in my life! I went from Detroit to Pittsburgh to Philadelphia to New York to Philadelphia to Jacksonville to New York to Philadelphia and finally back to New York. Don't get me wrong, I had a blast seeing the country, visiting Alex, and doing whatever I wanted, but man.. those 14 hr trips on I-95 sucked.

The worst was Saturday night. I was just south of Washington DC and the highway split. It was 11pm and I'd been driving since 1pm, having stopped only twice for gas, and there was a split in the highway. A little dazed by random muscle cramps and hunger, I went on the wrong side of the split then immediatedly decided to stop for the night because of it. The motel I stayed out turned out to be in the shadiest part of DC. At the Wendy's, dude was making a deal out of the drive through window. The gas station had a cop chilling in the parking lot. At the motel, it was a non stop flow of hoodrats and their women rolling in and out. The motel office had a barred window to serve their clientele.

In the morning, the parking lot was clear of the old Impalas with unproportionally large tailpipes and the restaraunt was filled with senior citizens. Go figure.

Otherwise, I made to New York and have started looking for a job.

Beach Hermit

I've decided that I want beachfront property. It's amazing. It's summer here for like 11 months out of the year. It's crazy. If I ever get sick of living in New York, I'm moving to the sun. There is no doubt about it. I'll be a straight up beach hermit... well beach dweller, because it'll be a beach house with a huge porch.

I think it's the climate that generally keeps people happier. In Michigan, everyone is depressed and dreary by the end of February. I go to CNN and see that there're 2 feet of snow in Buffalo and think, WOW. That's all I can say, WOW. It's freezing in some parts of the country and all I know is that it's straight up tropical down in Florida. This is what attracts me to places like this.

FLA

Northern Florida has an interesting mix of people. It is definately the south. There are people who have weddings at old plantation houses and drive around in cammo 2 seater pick up trucks, then there are the educated well to do types. Jacksonville also lacks the influx of senior citizens and Hispanics found in much of southern Florida. Southerners also put up a different front compared to Northerners. New Yorkers have a 'Stay out of my way, I've got places to go' front, while down here people are either really friendly or have a 'Don't mess wit me or I will kick yer ass, boy' front... but everyone's got a slight drawl.

Alex's place is cool. It's part of a housing development that tried to maintain some of the natural vegetation. So within this 3 village apartment complex, he has an end unit apartment that is tucked away into a corner. There is a maintenance shed that distracts people from realizing that there is common public space right next to his entrance. His apartment is way back there, the last window on the bottom level of the building.



Alex's front door is beneath these steps in the corner. This tennis court and gazebo has been forgotten, now officially Alex's 'front yard.'



Through the gazebo is a wooden pathway that leads you through the woods and to the pool.




In the afternoon, the tall trees allow the sun to only shine down at the end of the pool. As the afternoon wears on, the shade begins to take over until there is only enough space for one lawn chair to get sunlight. I didn't realize this until somebody else walked up to the pool, looked around, and walked home because I had that one spot.

Vagabond indeed

After meeting my housing appointments, I set up a move date of October 15, leaving me with a good nine days of extra time to do whatever I may please. So I decided to visit my buddy Alex down in Jaxsonville, Florida. Google maps told me the 850 mile trip from Philadelphia would take 17 hrs and 55 min. For me? 13 hrs and 45 min, and that includes two half hour meal breaks and getting stopped in rush hour traffic!

In Maryland, I'm cruising along at 80mph in the left lane and see a cop tailing me. I go into flip out mode and merge into the middle lane. The cop pulls up next to me and and I'm sweating bullets. He blares his horn for a second to get my attention. I look over and he's making a hand gesture. "Pull over?" I ask. "No, slow down.." Lucky me

I've never heard so many country or church FM stations in my life. The cheapest gas I found was $2.02 in Richmond VA. I hit rush hour through a construction zone in North Carolina. It's stopped for a good half hour, 45 min and I look in front of me, behind me, and next to me, and all I see are these people smoking cigarette after cigarette. It would also be important to point out that this was just outside of Tobaccoville, North Carolina.

Speeding buddies are the best way to get through a long drive. There are people on the highway (like myself) who like to speed but are reluctant to do so on their own. They need a speeding buddy, somebody else who is driving across the state and wants get there fast. It becomes a game. You maintain an 83-90mph agreement and it's follow the leader. If they get stuck behind a couple of slow moving cars, you go around them and take turns being the leader. Its an interesting highway relationship. I stuck with this Explorer from North Carolina all the way down to Georgia. If I were a truck driver, I'd make friends with all the other truck drivers.

My ride gets amazing gas mileage. It takes less than 20 bucks to fill up, taking less than 10 gallons per fill..

New York Observations

Walking along 5th Ave towards Central Park, I saw this sticking out of the ground. It's ridiculous looking. Apparently NY commissions public artist installations throughout the city. This particular concept takes an archeological approach. Imagine that you live in a nice white brick apartment building in Manhattan. Now imagine that there's an earthquake and the building sinks completely underground. Life goes on, it gets built over, whatever. A few years later, this same building resurfaces and breaks through the sidewalks of New York. Here is the result. I found it to be a little random myself.



I've noticed there's such a thing as 'New York Mode.' You put a scowl on your face and walk the streets like you own them, nobody else matters, and you are not to be bothered by anybody. It can get so intense that when a girl on the subway sneezes and my Michigander reaction is to tell her 'Bless You,' her face just lights up.

Housing Hustle

Finding a sublet on Craigslist is time consuming and frustrating. A friend had found me a month long sublet in Park Slope Brooklyn. I was excited. Then a week before my move date, the guy cancels on me and I'm forced to start my search over again. An entire week was spent replying to every single ad in New York that fit my crieteria of location, cost, and duration. Before I left Michigan, I managed to set up three housing appointments, two of which only came through. It a flipping numbers game.

The first was in Prospect Heights Brooklyn, next to Park Slope. The place was OK, at best. It was located on a major 6 lane road that housed the Brooklyn Museum and Library on one side of the street and nothing but housing on the other side. The subway was 15 min in either direction. Two bedrooms separated by a small kitchen, no living room. Old building. The roommate was a 30 yr old teacher who taught twice a week and stayed at home the rest of the week, in poor health physically and mentally.

The second place was in Harlem, two blocks from Columbia. The subways is literally a block away.. you turn a corner and it's right there. It's been remodeled recently so the foyer has red marble floors, and the apartment itself has new hardwood floors and new drywall. The kitchen and living room are upstairs and the bedrooms are downstairs. My room is gigantic. It must be 15' by 20'. There's enough room for a large bed, a couple couches, and an office area The window leads out to a private patio area that is fenced in from the alley, which is also fenced in from the street. There is one roommate who's a grad student and seems real chill and cool.

It just feels shady saying telling people that their apartment is your number one choice, when in fact, I say that to everybody. Then you step in their apartment and put on your best face, saying everything right except "yes i'll move into the apartment." You walk out the door with your own opinions of the place, hoping the next is better, yet not wanting to jeoporadize anything. It feels like such a hustle, like you're dating two chicks at once.

Nobody Balls like Tom

I visited Tom Monday night in Pittsburgh. It's an incredible view driving in to Pittsburgh. You approach from the northwest through the mountains, so your view is pretty elevated. After rounding a corner, downtown Pittsburgh lights up in front of you, and it's amazing at night. The city is nestled across a river in a valley and you have a bird's eye view of a giant downtown. You descend into the financial district of downtown Pittsburgh and get off the highway onto this street:



Within half a mile is Tom's apartment.



Tom lives on the 11th floor in a historical monument. It was once a subway station but was converted into apartments. This is the view from his apartment. The big white building in the first picture is where the Pirates play. Behind it, in the distance, you can see the bleachers of Heinz Field.




So, Tom is living in a ridiculous place.. complete with concierge, valet, vaulted ceilings, fresh flowers next to the elevators on every floor, incredible views... then you have his bedroom! Completely trashed, with old college books and notebooks, clothes, random furniture, random N64 accessories, and a mix of clean and dirty clothes. I watched him pull a load of whites out of the dryer and add it to the pile!

Made It

I'm here in NY... I stopped by in Pittsburgh Monday night, visited my sister last night, and took a bus up to the city this morning to check out apartments. I check out a place in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, and another on 116th St in Harlem, right next to Columbia. Its in a decent area in Harlem. There are $1.5 mil apartments being up put up in the area. The "drop off point" is like ten blocks up, on 125th. But I'm at the Apple store and just wanted to post something quick. I'll update for real with a couple pics when I get a chance.

P.S. It's amazing being unemployed (at least for now)

This is the end, my only friend the end...

I leave at 3pm today. This weekend has been a blur. I had to see so many people and do so many things not only in preparation for the move, but also for my freelance job. It's a real pain when you're 95% done and the client calls you and changes things up. But you deal.

I've said goodbye to my coworkers and to my friends. I used to think saying goodbye and cutting ties would be the hardest thing because for some reason it was assumed that I'd never talk to or see them again. Then a couple months ago my friend Akk told me "It's not goodbye, it's "I'll see you later." And it's true. I don't feel sad when I say goodbye anymore. The people I saw this weekend are my real friends, and they're exactly who I thought they were. When we meet again we'll fall back to just how we left it, taking Soco Limes and Washington Apples with pitchers of Miller Lite. On Autumn's tab, no less!

Rather, I'm sad to say goodbye to the little things I found joy in, on a daily basis. These are things I'll never have again--like making fun of my little sister all day because she's flipping out like the teenage girl she is. Or sitting at the dinner table with my mom every night, just talking or sitting in silence.. but always together. These little, tiny nuances in life kept me happy, and today that is what I'm saying goodbye to. These things made home *home,* and I will never live in the same house as these people again.

Today, I say goodbye to my family.