Roommate and I went out for drinks last night and she was making fun of Emo people. She knows I'm Emo, so it was all very lighthearted, but she was telling this story about how she was dating this Emo Dude who used his blog to communicate with her. He'd be like "Dude, check out this new photo on my blog" and then she'd go to it and there'd be no photo and instead an entry about what he wants in a relationship (when he was in a pseudo-relationship with her).
It didn't seem all that bizarre to me because I use my blog for similar emotional dispensing.
Hence, my emotional dispensation for the week.
After hitting Duane Reade after work yesterday and then eating a burrito on Bleeker Street that was FAR INFERIOR to the worst burrito I ever had at Anna's, I went home. Roommate was also home. We've been so lethargic and useless. Transition really beats you down.
We're sitting there, watching fuzzy CBS, when my phone rang. It was a call from a happy hour from my old place of employment. All my friends, all together, drinking free drinks, having fun. They meant well. They miss me.
I should have been happy to hear from them, but instead it was extremely depressing. It was actually one of the most depressing moments of my life, to tell you the truth. The first emotion I've felt in NY: sad. Totally, completely, 100% sad.
They were all having so much fun together. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling - like did I miss them? Was I confused as to how things are going on in my absence? I kept thinking "If I was there, I would not be having fun, because I'd be bored with the sameness of it all."
Then it occurred to me that it made me sad because I wasn't having fun. At all. Like I'm here and struggling just to exist. I haven't had time to do anything fun, and that just ain't right. So Roommate and I went out for a drink. At a bar that's three steps from our apartment, because we live in NY and everything is right there. And I had a $6 cosmo with fresh lime juice and got happy and told her Emo things about myself, such as just how sad a phone call can make you.
But yeah. I think talking to them made me feel really pathetic, and all of a sudden it hit me that I don't know anyone. Nobody. There are no social options at all. Which for me is basically the most scathing form of torture.
Right... the point of this post... holy digression....
Roommate gave me a fabulous pep talk during which she explained that it will take time, we'll find our group, and that it will be easy because everyone in NY is a transplant. Everyone here, for whatever reason, uprooted their entire life and is trying to rebuild it here. Everyone here understands what its like to be alone, and everyone will talk to you about it. I just have to be more outgoing. Right. Just talk to strangers. Ignore every introverted Bostonian instinct I have and talk to strangers.
And also get out there. I will go out 3/5 nights next week. Karaoke, live music, and a movie. Those are my tasks. Find three places. Be less Emo. Awesome.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Jimmy
There's this man who picks up the biohazard waste for my company. He is an old man whose name is the same name as a former president. He was raised in New York and then found his way elsewhere, but he can't live without this city.
I couldn't have written a character better for the screenplay of my life right now. He functions as both a therapist and a provider of sagely world wisdom.
He's adorable. He's a former jazz guitarist who's played with the greats. He's lived everywhere,
seen it all, been through it all. He said "My kids live down in Virginia. They want me to come and live with them, but I'm not done yet. I haven't done it all yet. I can't stand the quiet. If I don't hear ambulances, its not right."
Just now he said, "What's up for the weekend?"
This question made me sort of sad, because I don't know anyone yet so I don't really have any weekend plans. Aside from parents' visit. I told him that I was slightly nervous about this, since this will be the first time my parents have ever stayed with me. I said I was hoping not to disappoint them with my lack of furniture and lack of connectivity to the outside world. I said I was concerned that they would want to do things and that I don't even know how to get to Central Park yet.
He said:
"Do what you can do. The point is to show your folks 'Hey, I'm surviving on my own.' That's the whole thing. They won't understand how you can live this way, but they'll know you're doing it,
and that's what matters."
Yes, Jimmy, yes. I am making this work. I made this work and I'm making it work, and if we don't eat dinner in Little Italy, they will deal because they will be happy for me.
I couldn't have written a character better for the screenplay of my life right now. He functions as both a therapist and a provider of sagely world wisdom.
He's adorable. He's a former jazz guitarist who's played with the greats. He's lived everywhere,
seen it all, been through it all. He said "My kids live down in Virginia. They want me to come and live with them, but I'm not done yet. I haven't done it all yet. I can't stand the quiet. If I don't hear ambulances, its not right."
Just now he said, "What's up for the weekend?"
This question made me sort of sad, because I don't know anyone yet so I don't really have any weekend plans. Aside from parents' visit. I told him that I was slightly nervous about this, since this will be the first time my parents have ever stayed with me. I said I was hoping not to disappoint them with my lack of furniture and lack of connectivity to the outside world. I said I was concerned that they would want to do things and that I don't even know how to get to Central Park yet.
He said:
"Do what you can do. The point is to show your folks 'Hey, I'm surviving on my own.' That's the whole thing. They won't understand how you can live this way, but they'll know you're doing it,
and that's what matters."
Yes, Jimmy, yes. I am making this work. I made this work and I'm making it work, and if we don't eat dinner in Little Italy, they will deal because they will be happy for me.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Bill Pullman
One of the main differences between Boston and NY is that if you see a guy who looks just like Bill Pullman on the streets of NY, it might very well be Bill Pullman!
I saw a guy this morning who looked just like Bill Pullman. Well, a haggard, real-life version of Bill Pullman. I was standing on the corner with him waiting to cross the street to my office. He looked very confused and then ran in the opposite direction towards a post office. He ran like Bill Pullman too. Maybe it was actually Bill Pullman. I almost said "You look very familiar" but figured that was lame. I should have just said "LoneStarr!"
I saw a guy this morning who looked just like Bill Pullman. Well, a haggard, real-life version of Bill Pullman. I was standing on the corner with him waiting to cross the street to my office. He looked very confused and then ran in the opposite direction towards a post office. He ran like Bill Pullman too. Maybe it was actually Bill Pullman. I almost said "You look very familiar" but figured that was lame. I should have just said "LoneStarr!"
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Everyone Wants to Visit You When You Live in NY
Last night my roommate rollerskated in the apartment. It is so big and empty that she actually had the space to do some rad rollerskating maneuvers in there. It's one of those things I know I'll never forget - roommate rollerskating around to classical music while blowing bubbles at the cat. As she would say, "I heart New York."
Day 2 was ok. Met some folks who know people from my former company, which is comforting. There's something nice about complete strangers uttering the names of people you know. It makes you feel less isolated. Various people introduced themselves to me today. Perhaps they were confused by me yesterday. Now they know I actually work here and are no longer scared.
People are inviting themselves down to NY for visits. I am thrilled, but I am thinking about it and if all of these people come to visit, I'll literally be having visitors every weekend until Christmas, which is cool, but we don't even have a couch. A certain fertile friend of mine invited himself over for more than a week, but he said he'd be my personal assistant during that time period and would do Man Things such as hang pictures and carry a couch to our apartment, as well as Slave Things such as meet with cable guy and do laundry.
It is 5:30 and I am going to leave, because my new company has actual hours which go from 9:00 - 5:30, and people leave guilt-free at 5:30. How novel! Not that I'm doing any work yet - just office-paperwork-nonsense. Tomorrow I hit the bench and I am surprisingly excited.
And soon there will be music on the blog again. If all goes according to plan, I will be able to record a new song tomorrow night and get it up by the end of the week and that will make me feel a bit more normal as well.
Day 2 was ok. Met some folks who know people from my former company, which is comforting. There's something nice about complete strangers uttering the names of people you know. It makes you feel less isolated. Various people introduced themselves to me today. Perhaps they were confused by me yesterday. Now they know I actually work here and are no longer scared.
People are inviting themselves down to NY for visits. I am thrilled, but I am thinking about it and if all of these people come to visit, I'll literally be having visitors every weekend until Christmas, which is cool, but we don't even have a couch. A certain fertile friend of mine invited himself over for more than a week, but he said he'd be my personal assistant during that time period and would do Man Things such as hang pictures and carry a couch to our apartment, as well as Slave Things such as meet with cable guy and do laundry.
It is 5:30 and I am going to leave, because my new company has actual hours which go from 9:00 - 5:30, and people leave guilt-free at 5:30. How novel! Not that I'm doing any work yet - just office-paperwork-nonsense. Tomorrow I hit the bench and I am surprisingly excited.
And soon there will be music on the blog again. If all goes according to plan, I will be able to record a new song tomorrow night and get it up by the end of the week and that will make me feel a bit more normal as well.
Monday, September 20, 2004
First Days
Apparently I am a New Yorker.
Preliminary observations:
One should not go grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon. I used to think the Star Market in Porter Square was insane on the weekend. Not so! I waited in line for 35 minutes yesterday at the supermarket around the corner from my apartment.
It's weird that this particular supermarket sells Grape Hawaiian Punch but not the regular kind. That's wrong on so many levels. Song coming soon....
The building in which my new company is located, like the building in which I live, has male models.
My current company requires a form to be filled out in order to receive office supplies.
Despite my not liking baseball, I was all offended today when the people in the lunchroom were discussing "the game" and making fun of the Red Sox.
This kid who was in orientation with me noticed the Kerry/Edwards button on my bag and said "Who put that there!? Please tell me it wasn't you!" I should have said, "Dude, I'm a socialist" but instead I said, "Dude, are you a republican?" to which he replied "I'm just me" and the conversation just died. I'm not in Kansas anymore! The best thing about this kid, though, is that he's in the safety department and graduated with a degree in History/PoliSci, which explains A LOT about various safety departments.
I can't function without Weather Phone. How will I find the New York equivalent of Weather Phone?
Every time I walk out of my building and see the Manhattan skyline I gasp. Every. Time. I can't believe I'm here.
Preliminary observations:
One should not go grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon. I used to think the Star Market in Porter Square was insane on the weekend. Not so! I waited in line for 35 minutes yesterday at the supermarket around the corner from my apartment.
It's weird that this particular supermarket sells Grape Hawaiian Punch but not the regular kind. That's wrong on so many levels. Song coming soon....
The building in which my new company is located, like the building in which I live, has male models.
My current company requires a form to be filled out in order to receive office supplies.
Despite my not liking baseball, I was all offended today when the people in the lunchroom were discussing "the game" and making fun of the Red Sox.
This kid who was in orientation with me noticed the Kerry/Edwards button on my bag and said "Who put that there!? Please tell me it wasn't you!" I should have said, "Dude, I'm a socialist" but instead I said, "Dude, are you a republican?" to which he replied "I'm just me" and the conversation just died. I'm not in Kansas anymore! The best thing about this kid, though, is that he's in the safety department and graduated with a degree in History/PoliSci, which explains A LOT about various safety departments.
I can't function without Weather Phone. How will I find the New York equivalent of Weather Phone?
Every time I walk out of my building and see the Manhattan skyline I gasp. Every. Time. I can't believe I'm here.
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