A catch-22, maybe
I am wrestling with the desire to start on some creative venture (a writing project, for instance), but can't find the time or the motivation while I'm trying to deal with getting a job and an apartment in these first couple weeks here. I can't wait 'til I'm settled and feel more comfortable with my surroundings, when I can devote some time to such a project. On the other hand, maybe it's the chaos and uncertainty that give me these creative urges.
I'm beginning to get the feel of the subway system as well as the tides of city life. It's definitely nice to stay hidden away in this glass tower for at least a portion of the day, but once I step outside and adjust to the cacophony of car horns, polylingual denizens screaming and sputtering into their cell phones, and the psychological weight of steel and concrete high rises pushing down upon me from hundreds of feet above, I start feeling OK -- like a mackerel in an unbelievably massive school of other mackerel zooming all over the ocean in a giant swarm, in and out of the deep sea currents, up to the surface to feed and then into the dark, magma-heated depths to board the subway.
I briefly explored Chelsea today after being sort-of stood up by a friend of mine who was supposed to meet me for lunch. We had an understandable misunderstanding, however. I ate at Katz's Deli which, as my memory had predicted, served absolutely delicious sandwiches, albeit at pretty ridiculous prices. It is much more of a tourist trap than I remember it being when I was here four or five years ago, but I'm sure it hasn't changed much since then. Surely I'd have remembered being charged $14.00 for a sandwich, though? But the reuben was insanely tasty, even if the Russian dressing was a little over-sweet.
So then I took the train to Chelsea and strolled West on 23rd St. to the Piers. Wasn't much of note along 23rd, so I don't think I got a particularly good feel for the 'hood; the riverfront was nice, though, even if the Hudson River Park wasn't entirely finished yet. I did see a lot of presumably gay guys walking little tiny dogs.
In the afternoon Christina and I took the 1 train up to 109th and Broadway to see an apartment for rent. It was the grittiest one we've seen yet, and we walked out even before the agent hosting the viewing had finished her spiel. It felt like a druglord's tenement, with dirty rooftops, dead tree branches and piles of trash visible out the window. The hallways were littered with discarded tissues (used for who knows what purpose) and mounds of dust-bunnies. Gross.
Then we returned and spent a quiet evening in. I cooked some quite nice pork chops with sauteed apples and onions, as well as some polenta medallions with arugula tomato sauce and romano cheese. Watched a bit of television (old Daily Show) and then listened to Christina talk about a tough spot she's going through at work and some of the ideas she's working on at the moment.
I'm beginning to get the feel of the subway system as well as the tides of city life. It's definitely nice to stay hidden away in this glass tower for at least a portion of the day, but once I step outside and adjust to the cacophony of car horns, polylingual denizens screaming and sputtering into their cell phones, and the psychological weight of steel and concrete high rises pushing down upon me from hundreds of feet above, I start feeling OK -- like a mackerel in an unbelievably massive school of other mackerel zooming all over the ocean in a giant swarm, in and out of the deep sea currents, up to the surface to feed and then into the dark, magma-heated depths to board the subway.
I briefly explored Chelsea today after being sort-of stood up by a friend of mine who was supposed to meet me for lunch. We had an understandable misunderstanding, however. I ate at Katz's Deli which, as my memory had predicted, served absolutely delicious sandwiches, albeit at pretty ridiculous prices. It is much more of a tourist trap than I remember it being when I was here four or five years ago, but I'm sure it hasn't changed much since then. Surely I'd have remembered being charged $14.00 for a sandwich, though? But the reuben was insanely tasty, even if the Russian dressing was a little over-sweet.
So then I took the train to Chelsea and strolled West on 23rd St. to the Piers. Wasn't much of note along 23rd, so I don't think I got a particularly good feel for the 'hood; the riverfront was nice, though, even if the Hudson River Park wasn't entirely finished yet. I did see a lot of presumably gay guys walking little tiny dogs.
In the afternoon Christina and I took the 1 train up to 109th and Broadway to see an apartment for rent. It was the grittiest one we've seen yet, and we walked out even before the agent hosting the viewing had finished her spiel. It felt like a druglord's tenement, with dirty rooftops, dead tree branches and piles of trash visible out the window. The hallways were littered with discarded tissues (used for who knows what purpose) and mounds of dust-bunnies. Gross.
Then we returned and spent a quiet evening in. I cooked some quite nice pork chops with sauteed apples and onions, as well as some polenta medallions with arugula tomato sauce and romano cheese. Watched a bit of television (old Daily Show) and then listened to Christina talk about a tough spot she's going through at work and some of the ideas she's working on at the moment.
posted by Seph at 5:58 PM
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