17 September 2009
in conculsion
Not many people have had the opportunity, or if they have, actually taken it. I have seen the world and lived in the greatest city imaginable. I got out unscathed other than a few broken hearts and a whole lot of lessons.
12 September 2009
25c
11 September 2009
I have overstayed my welcome here in New York City. When the day of the big move back to Portland arrived it was with much relief as I ached for missing the birth of my friend’s daughter, Labor Day bbqs, and friends in general. The previous two nights were in the company of my dear friends Carrie and Lauren. We laughed and enjoyed every second together including the open bar Merrill Lynch party we stumbled upon. There were tears at the good byes and a long walk home still didn’t ease the grief of leaving friends who have made my life bearable here. Breakfast plans were set with Beth at 0930 in order that I wouldn’t drink too much the evening prior, to get up before noon, to finish packing, and to get a hearty meal in. We met at Mogador and ended up talking business and exchanging gifts. It wasn’t as sad to say good-bye to her because I knew that we would be in loads of contact as the business starts and we are doing a dog/house swap come spring.
I walked home in the mist of the day that added a heavier heart to myself and those follow new yorkers whose mind was on the events eight years ago. I used my umbrella unlike a true Oregonian and arrived home around 1200. I promised myself to get everything packed and clean and into the shower by 1430. Things were going pretty well until I figured out the bag was not as big as it was in my mind and I was running out of room. How, why do I have so much crap? I found a box previously used for my destination raffle and packed it full of odds and ends. I rushed down to FedEx at 1400 and it started pouring down rain. After a 13-block walk, I combined my metro cards and hiked back. A quick shower and putting the last of my stuff in the allotted bags end up with: one large, stuffed duffle bag, my roller board, my backpack, two large purses, a whole foods bag, one pillow, and my Hampton’s sun hat. It took three trips to the elevator and then I realized that I was in desperate need of a cab. Trouble is that I didn’t live on a busy enough street, my bags can’t be drug around the block in one load, and it was pouring down rain. Cabs become gold when it is raining. I took my couple of bags around to Spring and prayed no one wanted to walk off with the remaining bags in the lobby. I stood in the rain hailing unlit cabs for 5 minutes before a town car came by. I explained my situation and got the price tag of $20. Done! We sat in traffic and my hopes of making the 1800 flight began to fade. I didn’t arrive to Port Authority until 1630. The ticket guy gave me a big hug goodbye and told me he would miss seeing me. Nicest thing that happened to me all afternoon. The bus driver was also a doll and helped me out with my luggage as we pulled up to terminal c at 1710. There was free cart available and the guy at the check in desk kindly checked my bags and luggage rack without an ounce of attitude. I walked through security quickly (thank you crew id) and made it to the gate 5 minutes before boarding. The cookies to the agent proved golden as I now sit on my own row. The cookies to the crew have allowed me whatever I need to be comfortable. Defiantly not the flight I took Monday, thank god! I rested for a bit prior to my turkey dog and ginger ale. In three hours I land and make my way home. Home to a bed that I can sleep in forever if I like. To my house with my bathroom, windows that open to fresh air, a neighborhood that makes life easy and manageable. I move home to friends, and new career. I move home with world experience, eyes and mind open, a New Yorker in attitude on reserve, and an Oregonian in kindness and consideration.
I leave NYC on the weekend of the VMA awards, the US Open and fashion week and for once, couldn’t give a damn less.
The journey is now complete and in Carries words, come full circle.
I have overstayed my welcome here in New York City. When the day of the big move back to Portland arrived it was with much relief as I ached for missing the birth of my friend’s daughter, Labor Day bbqs, and friends in general. The previous two nights were in the company of my dear friends Carrie and Lauren. We laughed and enjoyed every second together including the open bar Merrill Lynch party we stumbled upon. There were tears at the good byes and a long walk home still didn’t ease the grief of leaving friends who have made my life bearable here. Breakfast plans were set with Beth at 0930 in order that I wouldn’t drink too much the evening prior, to get up before noon, to finish packing, and to get a hearty meal in. We met at Mogador and ended up talking business and exchanging gifts. It wasn’t as sad to say good-bye to her because I knew that we would be in loads of contact as the business starts and we are doing a dog/house swap come spring.
I walked home in the mist of the day that added a heavier heart to myself and those follow new yorkers whose mind was on the events eight years ago. I used my umbrella unlike a true Oregonian and arrived home around 1200. I promised myself to get everything packed and clean and into the shower by 1430. Things were going pretty well until I figured out the bag was not as big as it was in my mind and I was running out of room. How, why do I have so much crap? I found a box previously used for my destination raffle and packed it full of odds and ends. I rushed down to FedEx at 1400 and it started pouring down rain. After a 13-block walk, I combined my metro cards and hiked back. A quick shower and putting the last of my stuff in the allotted bags end up with: one large, stuffed duffle bag, my roller board, my backpack, two large purses, a whole foods bag, one pillow, and my Hampton’s sun hat. It took three trips to the elevator and then I realized that I was in desperate need of a cab. Trouble is that I didn’t live on a busy enough street, my bags can’t be drug around the block in one load, and it was pouring down rain. Cabs become gold when it is raining. I took my couple of bags around to Spring and prayed no one wanted to walk off with the remaining bags in the lobby. I stood in the rain hailing unlit cabs for 5 minutes before a town car came by. I explained my situation and got the price tag of $20. Done! We sat in traffic and my hopes of making the 1800 flight began to fade. I didn’t arrive to Port Authority until 1630. The ticket guy gave me a big hug goodbye and told me he would miss seeing me. Nicest thing that happened to me all afternoon. The bus driver was also a doll and helped me out with my luggage as we pulled up to terminal c at 1710. There was free cart available and the guy at the check in desk kindly checked my bags and luggage rack without an ounce of attitude. I walked through security quickly (thank you crew id) and made it to the gate 5 minutes before boarding. The cookies to the agent proved golden as I now sit on my own row. The cookies to the crew have allowed me whatever I need to be comfortable. Defiantly not the flight I took Monday, thank god! I rested for a bit prior to my turkey dog and ginger ale. In three hours I land and make my way home. Home to a bed that I can sleep in forever if I like. To my house with my bathroom, windows that open to fresh air, a neighborhood that makes life easy and manageable. I move home to friends, and new career. I move home with world experience, eyes and mind open, a New Yorker in attitude on reserve, and an Oregonian in kindness and consideration.
I leave NYC on the weekend of the VMA awards, the US Open and fashion week and for once, couldn’t give a damn less.
The journey is now complete and in Carries words, come full circle.
09 September 2009
only in nyc on sullivan street
Allow me to set the scene: I had just gotten back from walking Carrie to the subway stop and opted for a tasti-d-lite before going home. I wanted to eat it outside and enjoy the remainder of the summer. I approached my building and sat on the curb leading to the door. There were a couple of tipsy guys next door being silly and I was paying them no mind. Suddenly one guy approached and asked if he could throw his Porsche keys at me again. What? He threw them towards me and I just looked him and then his other friend came and started talking to me as well. The key thrower was a black guy who claimed to be a social worker and then showed me the medal his was wearing from the honor society. The other guy who claimed to be his cousin was a Spanish man missing his front two teeth, wearing a cowboy hat and tight dress shirt. A first thought he seemed gay. They continued to talk to me much to my humor and then the Spanish guy lit up a bowl. All of a sudden the black guy with the medal started singing to me and the Spanish guy leaned over to point out that his fly was undone. A moment later someone came out of my building with a French bulldog and the dog just stopped cold and stared at the guy singing in an awful key. The owner immediately picked up the dog and walked away while I busted out laughing at the whole scene. As if on cue a couple walked in between us and gave the guy a strange look to which he replied that he was trying to get laid. The dog, now five feet away is still staring at the guy and the owner has to pick him up again. Now a businessman comes home to my building and isn’t fazed by any of this.
Still chuckling, I made my way into the building and bounded upstairs to get this all down. Man, I am going to miss New York!!!!
Still chuckling, I made my way into the building and bounded upstairs to get this all down. Man, I am going to miss New York!!!!
valium writing
I am about as miserable as a person could be on a plane. There are children all around me screaming and one directly behind hitting my seat every so often. What makes this situation worse that there are seat available in first and for some unknown reason I, the only non-rev was not upgraded. It is a Houston crew; I could tell the minute they showed up at the gate that even after I gave them gummy bears won’t even acknowledge me. I opted to take a Valium miraculously hidden in my bag to knock myself out. It hasn’t worked and I break out in tears every so often as I have yet to deal with the week that is ever so slowly coming to an end.
It is my fault that I am currently entrapped in this misery. I am the one who took charge when I thought the call was up to me about staying a few more weeks in New York. After mulling it over with the pregnant one who my September revolved around and deciding that it would be safe to stay without missing the big day and that way I could go on holiday and make a few bucks while I readied the business. It all made sense at the time, but now I realize that I was supposed to go home prior. I should have taken the trip to Greece by myself because I didn’t even end up going to Greece; we diverted our plans to Lisbon instead. I had already gone there on holiday but wanted so much to take advantage of having someone who actually wanted to travel with me that I said ok, 13 hours prior to the flight departing when the suggestion was offered up. I had a good time, yes but it wasn’t the greatest holiday ever, it wasn’t the one I needed to bookend my journey.
Since everything seemed in place with dates and occurrences, I volunteered myself to the dog walking business in NYC. It was a good time since Beth was on vacation and I could not only get some more practice in before the big show of my own but also make some money.
I spent most of Saturday recovering from the week of “where are we staying tonight?” and happy to be in one place. I wasn’t sure I was going to have the focus for the business and surprised myself in my diligence to get things done.
Sunday I sat off for the LES to dog sit a bulldog named Beatrice. Carrie and I had made plans for the NY Sunday brunch that I had so desperately wanted for almost a year now. After walking the mile to find the apartment amongst the mass quantity of buildings in Stuy town, we met up for eggs Benedict and bloody marys. There was also a street fair/art exhibit going on in Tompkins Square that we took in. I brought Carrie back to the apartment so she could meet Bea and go on a walk with us. The owners left me a note about a wagon that she rides around in. And for the next hour and a half we drug the dog around the neighborhood much to everyone’s (including our) delight. The rest of the evening was spent in a gorgeous apartment wondering if they were happy with their lives and how do I get to the point. I slept restlessly on the couch waking to her every move just in case she needed anything.
Morning walks filled my agenda as well as much needed coffee. I was and still am in a foul mood and did everything in my playbook to shake it; nothing worked. Ended up going home between dogs to pack up another bag and go through the remainder of my stuff. I long desperately that this could be the last flight home instead of me coming back for a 20-hour period in which I hope Stella is born. To add to the pressure of walking the dog at 530, returning keys a mile away, and making it to the bus stop all within 30 minutes I also need to find a way home tomorrow so I can continue walking the dogs as promised to Beth. I ended up calling a car service since my half-mile walk from the subway to apartment with bags almost broke me earlier. Love how you can buy anything you need in NY…gonna miss that. What I am not going to miss is how freakin long it takes to get something accomplished and how when there is a time frame, complications surely appear.
The good thing about these extra two weeks is that I have my business in line. The website is done, the cards and note pads are designed and ordered and I am mentally ready to take on the dogs. And I am so ready to have my space back…the weekend cannot come fast enough!!
It is my fault that I am currently entrapped in this misery. I am the one who took charge when I thought the call was up to me about staying a few more weeks in New York. After mulling it over with the pregnant one who my September revolved around and deciding that it would be safe to stay without missing the big day and that way I could go on holiday and make a few bucks while I readied the business. It all made sense at the time, but now I realize that I was supposed to go home prior. I should have taken the trip to Greece by myself because I didn’t even end up going to Greece; we diverted our plans to Lisbon instead. I had already gone there on holiday but wanted so much to take advantage of having someone who actually wanted to travel with me that I said ok, 13 hours prior to the flight departing when the suggestion was offered up. I had a good time, yes but it wasn’t the greatest holiday ever, it wasn’t the one I needed to bookend my journey.
Since everything seemed in place with dates and occurrences, I volunteered myself to the dog walking business in NYC. It was a good time since Beth was on vacation and I could not only get some more practice in before the big show of my own but also make some money.
I spent most of Saturday recovering from the week of “where are we staying tonight?” and happy to be in one place. I wasn’t sure I was going to have the focus for the business and surprised myself in my diligence to get things done.
Sunday I sat off for the LES to dog sit a bulldog named Beatrice. Carrie and I had made plans for the NY Sunday brunch that I had so desperately wanted for almost a year now. After walking the mile to find the apartment amongst the mass quantity of buildings in Stuy town, we met up for eggs Benedict and bloody marys. There was also a street fair/art exhibit going on in Tompkins Square that we took in. I brought Carrie back to the apartment so she could meet Bea and go on a walk with us. The owners left me a note about a wagon that she rides around in. And for the next hour and a half we drug the dog around the neighborhood much to everyone’s (including our) delight. The rest of the evening was spent in a gorgeous apartment wondering if they were happy with their lives and how do I get to the point. I slept restlessly on the couch waking to her every move just in case she needed anything.
Morning walks filled my agenda as well as much needed coffee. I was and still am in a foul mood and did everything in my playbook to shake it; nothing worked. Ended up going home between dogs to pack up another bag and go through the remainder of my stuff. I long desperately that this could be the last flight home instead of me coming back for a 20-hour period in which I hope Stella is born. To add to the pressure of walking the dog at 530, returning keys a mile away, and making it to the bus stop all within 30 minutes I also need to find a way home tomorrow so I can continue walking the dogs as promised to Beth. I ended up calling a car service since my half-mile walk from the subway to apartment with bags almost broke me earlier. Love how you can buy anything you need in NY…gonna miss that. What I am not going to miss is how freakin long it takes to get something accomplished and how when there is a time frame, complications surely appear.
The good thing about these extra two weeks is that I have my business in line. The website is done, the cards and note pads are designed and ordered and I am mentally ready to take on the dogs. And I am so ready to have my space back…the weekend cannot come fast enough!!
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