The New York Water Taxi was one of the best things I've done up here. Even if you've lived here your whole life and you've never done it, I highly suggest you do. You get a completely different perspective of this crazy, hectic city from the water. It's peaceful, sparkling and majestic.
As I've said once before in this blog, I'm a very patriotic person. But I've never thought so fondly or felt so strongly for New York or America, until I saw the empty space in the skyline where the World Trade Center once stood. I thought about the strength both this city and our country have exhibited following that horrible day.
Ever since gaining this new perspective, I've felt differently towards the city I once thought of as a mecca for high-achievers, self-expressionists and non-sleepers. I now appreciate it as a home. I can recognize the pride and unity that it holds, and I see what it stands for in so many peoples' eyes. There is something truly remarkable about a community that can somehow piece back together something that broke an entire country. That day, I felt a nationwide sense of pride and patriotism shining through the skyscrapers and bouncing off the water--it was the resilience of this city.
I once thought it would be the New York Yankees hat I recieved from a friend that would get me to root for the team. Now I realize it's something much different.
Less: because I have a somewhat better knowledge than the visitor regarding what to do/where to go/how to get there More: because I do things like circle line tours
So last weekend (this post is anything but timely, I KNOW. Don't hate me--keep following!) Shae (that's my older sister for you stranger-followers) came to visit. I wanted to jam pack our weekend full of fun, memorable things, and I think I succeeded. Also, Kelsey (my roommate's sister) came to town, as did the one and only MQ. Needless to say, it was a very busy weekend.
On Friday I went to an Intern Fest for the PR interns of the Omnicom Group (that's mine and Caroline's umbrella company, it owns several big advertising and PR firms, Porter being one of them.) It was great. I actually found out that my friend Stacey friend from school was interning for a firm up here. After the convention, a few of us went to a bar called Snafu in midtown and discussed all of the fun and exciting things we've been up to. It was great catching up with a familiar friend and also getting to know my fellow PNers a little better. (PS- shout out to my PN friends: Kara, Kayla, Celia, Nancy, Ian and Phillip. Now that you've been mentioned in my blog, you can expect daily emails hassling you to follow it. = )
I left Snafu and went to meet Shae, Wynn, Kelsey, Caroline and MQ in Central Park to listen to the Philharmonic. We stopped and got a pizza and had a picnic among the trees and fireflies (don't make fun- trying to bring some imagery to the blog.) Unfortunately (or fortunately, I like to think) it started to down pour. Fully satiated from the pizza, wine and beautiful music, we beelined for the exit of the park along with the other 70,000 Philharmonic Phans. Think: a Gator game in which the opposing team's fans leave the stadium because they're losing so badly. Similar to that.
With 2 pieces of pizza left in the box, I simply could not throw it away. It was delicious, and I don't know, call me Krysia, but I just can't waste food, ESPECIALLY when there are homeless people every 20 feet around you. And, after a while, my forearms were getting tired of holding the box over my head to protect it from the rain (it was a lost cause, anyways), so i decided to "pie it forward" to a random man on the street. Not homeless, but hungry nonetheless. Like the good New Yorker that he was, he didn't trust my generosity (it's not often you get free things around here, I don't blame him for being wary!), so I took a big bite out of a piece to show him it was okay. It was like we went from not speaking the same language to sharing an immediate bond over a slice of pie--so Eat Pray Love of us.
Other funny things that happened that night: -Singing New York New York in the rain- perfect way to fool people that you're in fact a temporary resident of the city--sing New York New York. It never gets old. -Showing up to a bar downtown when it only rained uptown and getting looks like "you are really ugly."
On the morning of the 4th, my cousins Matt, Dave and Christian took us (me, Caro, Shae and Matt's wife Tina) "crabbing." After about a half an hour without any crustacea to be caught, we asked Matt if he had ever crabbed before. He responded as if we were a bunch of fools. "Uh, Yeahh...In Nantucket." (Here's my immediate thinking: Nantucket is in Massachusetts-->Boston is in Massachusetts--> Boston Clam Chowder ---> Clams are basically like crabs--> Matt thinks we're being home dinner....)
Finally, after about an hour, we somehow caught the just-hatched sacrificial crab. He was probably the runt of the litter. All the bigger crabs were like, "Go ahead squirt. Just clamp onto that chicken wing. You'll be alright." (insert crab laughter) After some strategic zooming on the camera to try to make him appear larger than he actually was, we threw the little sucker...eh...pincher? back into the water.
Then the funny thing of the morning happened. I started talking about the red, white and blue jello shots (complete with gummy worms) from the night before, and Shae bolted up from her chair and puked (into wind, props!) In her defense, it smelled like fish out there. The boys then threw the Purdue chicken pieces we were fishing with to the seagulls. Somebody pointed out that we were encouraging cannibalism...I didn't get it for a good couple of seconds.
We got a pretty good reaction out of Krys when we told her what we fished with.
In Krysia voice:"Why didn't you bring them home and put them on the grill?!"
(I shouldn't mock her...that actually would have made up for the crab dinner...or lack there of!)
Later on, we all decided to call our morning activity "sitting."
Later in the day when Matt and I weren't catching anything while fishing in the ocean, my wise cousin said something that stuck with me. "They don't call it catching!"
The 4th of July is my favorite holiday. It's right up there with St. Patrick's Day. Somewhat obscure favorites, I know. I'm Irish, so I love St. Patrick's Day (and it's exactly a week before my birthday). The 4th of July celebrates America's independence, it's during the summer, involves my closest friends and family, barbecue, the beach and fireworks--what's not to love?
This 4th, Caroline, Shae and I went "down the shore" (as they say up north) to Sea Isle City, NJ, appropriately acronymed 'SIC'. My Aunt Elsie and Uncle Tony have a 14-bedroom house called "L'Etage" across the street from the ocean. I've been going to L'Etage since I was about nine or ten. The beautiful Victorian-style home has a wrap around porch with rocking chairs and enough Ferguson family rowdiness to keep you there all night.
When I was younger, my older cousins would usually start their nights on the porch and then make their way down the street to the bars. Over the years, my Aunt Els would provide porch paraphanalia to amplify the fun factor, such as kazoos to blow and pantyhose to put over your head (just because it looked funny). Once the fun was had, I was always jealous I couldn't join my cousins when they left to go out.
I was beyond excited this year to finally get to experience the SIC bar scene since I'm 21. But just like when I was 10, I never left the porch. Hanging out with cousins, who are now fathers and mothers is much more fun than any night out...even in Joisey.
This past weekend (my 6th weekend in New York, can you believe it?) Mary Quinn came up from DC to visit. We decided to "Carpe New York" and cross some things off of my to-do list.
On Friday night we went to a Karaoke bar called Iggy's. After about a half an hour of listening to some wannabe Madonnas, we headed to a bar we like called Dorrian's. The bartender is obsessed with us and acts like we're regulars when we come in. Before this weekend, we've been there once...
Saturday we woke up and went to Dukes, a restaurant my friend JFH works at. It's weird to see that she has a real job up here...You know. One of those permanent kinds.
After a hearty brunch that went into the late-lunch hours, we headed up to Central Park to meet Wynn and Jamie for a picnic. We ate cheese and crackers, had wine and watched all of the dogs run around. I am so pleasantly surprised at how many golden retrievers I see up here. Most times they travel in pairs. I like that-- if you're going to coop a golden up in a small NYC apartment, how very nice of you to give him/her a playmate. That's pretty much an accurate depiction of me and my roommates in our small little dorm. Thank God we have each other or we'd probably go crazy and start gnawing on the furniture.
After our picnic in the park, we went to Times Square in hopes of winning the last-minute Broadway student ticket lottery. After intense research into the lottery protocol of each show, we narrowed it down to The Little Mermaid and 9-to-5. My hours of mapping out the box offices/writing down drawing times seemed somewhat in vain when we simply walked up to The Little Mermaid box office and purchased 4 tickets for $30 bucks each, just like that.
The show was incredible. Our seats were great. Everyone mobilized on stage via "wheelies," (shoes with wheels) fluttering their long protruding tails--it really looked like they were swimming. I got nervous when I remembered Ariel loses her voice 1/3 the way through the show...Thank GOD for introspective solos...Also, Flounder was a little boy with yellow, spiky, blue-polka dotted hair. He was awesome at wheelying--you could tell he's definitely had a lot of practice. After the show we went to Italian/Cuban restaurant on 2nd and 5th for dinner. It was nearly midnight by the time we finished, and what I love about New York, we weren't alone.
If you're going to live in New York, go ahead and dismiss any semblance of meal structure you might have. For me, lunch falls anywhere between 1 and 5. Dinner is usually between 9 and midnight. This is going to come as a shock to my parents because at home, lunch is usually before noon and dinner could come as early as 4:30 some days (I've seen Dad make Rose dinner at 3:30.)
New York has forced me to be flexible and has taught me how to remain positive even in the most annoying of circumstances---caught in the rain without an umbrella, stranded at a Subway station when a train hasn't shown up for an hour (note to followers: there's a good reason why you're standing at a subway station alone: the train isn't coming), or paying $6 for a box of Special K. There are too many people here, doing the same thing that you are, to complain. Plus, no one cares anyways. I definitely don't sweat the small stuff. If it takes an hour to get somewhere, I practice my Spanish by translating the Subway ads.
I've learned how to embrace every nuance of this city and simply say, "Okay New York. You're just as cool as everyone says you are. You go ahead and do whatever you want."
On Sunday, my friends and I went to lunch at a diner on the Upper West Side on Madison Ave. We left the first diner because they charged $16 for a grilled cheese (sometimes I have to draw a line with my "go ahead and do whatever you want" mantra.) After finding another place and eating some delicious chicken salad sandwiches, we went to the Met. DID YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY? The 3rd To-Do of the weekend!
(For you sharp people who have kept count and realize I only really achieved 2 to-dos this weekend, take note that I altered "throw a Frisbee in Central Park" to "have a picnic in Central Park." I looked for a Frisbee to throw...counts?)
Student tickets are only $10. We spent about two and a half hours getting lost in the winding halls of art and history. My favorite exhibit was the European paintings (from the 19th century.) I saw some of my favorite artist's work--Renoir. He was Frenchman, BFF of Monet. He and Monet once painted a scene sitting side-by-side. I want to do that someday. I'm afraid though. My two artsy friends (Caroline and Margaret) are extremely talented...If you've seen my work (a doodle here and there, a 2nd grade portrait of a clown that freaks me out every time I pull into the garage, where it hangs...where it belongs....) you'd agree that I should probably paint alone.
I saw Michelangelo's first painting, The Torment of Saint Anthony. It was a pretty wild little peice--a saintly man levitating in the air with demonic, animalistic creatures attacking him. I think my first picture was an aerial-view map of my house at age 3. I mastered the ceiling fan at a young age.
I also saw Manet, Van Gogh, Seurat, Picasso, and Degas. You know, the boys. They all say hello.
Anyways, the Met was a life highlight, and I'm hoping to go back before I leave (either there or the MOMA.) I didn't do nearly enough art-admiring damage. The visit sparked my interest to someday pay a visit to my favorite Renoir painting. It's called Luncheon of the Boating Party. AND it lives in DC. Shae, I believe a visit will be in order.
This weekend was pretty great. My friend Calette visited Ludlow for the weekend. Despite the tight quarters, I always love having visitors. Seeing familiar faces is anything but ordinary here.
Which brings me to #1 on the list of Reasons I Dislike New York. Don't worry...it's an extremely short list. I only come up with a new reason once every week or two.
#1-- You never see the same person twice (with the exception of the other day when I ran into my spinning instructor on the street...I'm taking that as a sign to stop skipping her class.)
I take the same train at the same time every day. I've never once seen someone I've seen before. And trust me, I pay attention on the subway. I'm not one of those "I zone out and sleep on the train" people. Those people are fakers if you ask me. How on earth, or below earth, do you know you're at your stop if you're actually sleeping? Have they gotten so good at subway riding that they just know by the 6th jolt that it's time to wake up? I don't get it.
But anyways, it kind of bothers me that every one here is a stranger everywhere I go. I guess familiarity is just one advantage that the NYC locals have over us temps. That and an immunity to the supposedly "perfect" water up here...Yeah right.
I also got a pedicure at this salon called J Sisters this past Saturday. It's where all the celebs, such as Lindsay Lohan go to get special treatments that I can't divulge...What if she reads my blog? I can't go losing celebrity friends because I let their secrets slip. I have to have a conversation with one before I leave this place.
Anyways the pedicure was great. A friend I made hooked me up with it because his mom is one of the 7 "J Sisters" (owners). They're good friends with Giselle and Naomi. NBD.
To sum up Shae and my awesome weekend in the City:
