"Good things come to those who wait" said my date on Friday night, in reference to a jazz band that took an hour to set up at the lounge. This saying is true in so many respects.
A date? What date? I have been on 4 dates with a very sweet guy.
1) Saturday - We met at a chilled bar near my place, then went on to dinner at a rather swanky restaurant in Georgetown, followed by dessert at a jazz bar. Hugged goodbye (not a bad thing in the traditional sense).
2) Friday - took the metro down to U Street where we ate mediterranean dinner and listened to a fantastic live jazz band that has played with Branton Marsalis. Hugged goodbye.
3) Sunday, 2 days after 2nd date - picked up by car. Algerian music concert at the Kennedy Center, followed by Mediterranean dinner in Maryland. He opens the car door for me to get in. Kissed him on the cheek when we parted.
4) This Friday - dinner and music at the Indonesian Embassy, followed by live jazz in a huge townhouse with candlelit lounges. There was the arm around shoulders, holding hands, and a nice chaste kiss on departure. We agreed we might belong in the 1950s. He is building trust and a comfort level, which I've learned is the best approach for me personally.
5) Today I have a nasty cold. As promised last night, he brought me goodies. He shopped at a gourmet grocery store while speaking to me on the phone and gauging my interest in some of the things he was seeing, and then he asked my permission to come see me. He brought me tomato basil soup, chicken noodle soup, a chocolate tartlet, a fruit tartlet, organic orange juice with pulp, and PINK TULIPS! I thanked him twice, and he told me it was a pleasure for him to bring me these things.
I was feeling good enough for a walk, so we rambled round my neighborhood, holding hands, and then he left to go visit his folks in Baltimore. Later he texted to say he hoped the tulips would open for me this week, as they will be nice when they do.
I've never met a keeper before, but it's obvious that's what he is. It's so nice to meet someone who isn't rushing to date backwards because he knows he'll be around and there's plenty of time. He calls every evening before going to bed. He talks about what we might do in the summer, events coming up and activities to do together. He's compiling mental lists of things that please me, like hot chocolate - or things I want to learn, like how to swim properly - or things I teach him, like tomatoes are fruits.
Who is this mystery guy? He's a local of sorts - grew up near Baltimore but has spent years in the DC area. He's close to his family, and 3 nephews, and has longtime close friends. Lives and works in Bethesda as a high profile financial advisor in Bethesda and is only a couple of miles away from me. Has economics and law degrees. He's 38 but looks years younger, part English, German, and Italian. He is cute in the real sense - being almost as small as I am, but also goodlooking. He has freckles which I hope will pop out in the summer, quiet blue eyes, and plenty of brown hair. Nothing fancy, just impeccable taste and a downright decent guy with intelligence - the eldest brother of sisters, which is the best match for an only child according to some birth-order psychologists.
Yet another instance in which Washington has been good to me.
Washington has the cleanest Metro ever and light boards tell you when the next train will arrive - every few minutes, not like in NYC where you wait craning your neck for 10-15 minutes. I think DC was designed by someone with OCD. The road crossing signals give you a countdown of the time you have to cross. This is very satisfying.
And this is where I will live, in an exclusive development in a very upscale part of town, with an address on one of the city's main arteries.
My new bathroom is the size of my Brooklyn bedroom. My new bedroom is 5 times that size, and PLUSH. All for quite a bit less than what I am paying for a make-do room with shared bathroom in a converted railroad apartment more than 10 miles away from Manhattan.
It takes roughly 10-15 minutes to reach the center of town by train or bus - no more one-hour train rides just to get out of Brooklyn, I am so done with that. I am also a short shot down the road from Georgetown when I want to socialize.
In fact, I like that DC feels like a town while having all the amenities of a city. Exchanges with random strangers have been neighborly. People look normal and talk normally here, more standard American accents, fewer abrasive Noo Yawkers, and some gentle southern drawls to make me smile. And I have noticed....there are lots of cute guys.
New Yorkers usually turn up their noses at many of the modest and pleasing things I love about Washington.
This move to DC has been a long time coming. I've wanted to live here for nearly 10 years - so after that unfortunate 6-year stint in London, followed by a 9-month stopover in NYC, it's time to get on with it. I'm glad I spent some time in NYC and got to know it a little, respect it a bit more as a city, but as sure as ever that I don't belong here and still in touch with the reasons why I didn't like it when I first visited in 1995 from Tx, despite since being toughened up in one of Europe's grimmest capitals. Even when I was in London, my reasons for skipping NYC were that I did not want to swap one London for another.
Washington has the Southern balance I have missed since leaving Texas. Through all those years back in London I never took my eyes off the goal. Here is where I can do the work that I have long dreamed of doing, and come closer to the lifestyle I am seeking.
The movers come on Valentine's Day, a nice significant date for the move of my dreams.
I feel like I am going home, I feel like I belong there.
The anticipation is dizzying and breathtaking, almost like falling in love...
I am sure you have heard it a million times already since last night, but let me once more wish everyone who reads my blog a happy and prosperous 2009, filled with laughter, love, health, and success! xoxo
Now, what did I do for New Year's Eve? Overnight the temps dropped dramatically, and it was so subzero outside that I nearly stayed home. The day opened with blowing powdery snow which did not stay. It was so windy that every time there was a gust, the sofa would move as I was sitting on it. The WNW wind gusts took the clouds away but then there were patches of black ice where the snow had melted against the salted sidewalks. The wind chill was way down at ZERO fahrenheit (-17C)!!!
I had been invited to join Denise and Clif at Don't Tell Mama, on 46th between 8th and 9th, for a piano bar singalong evening. There were supposed to be about 8 of us, but everyone dropped out so it was just us three and I am glad I went, even though I have a sore throat now - not from the singing; more likely from the dry cold.
It was quite an adventure getting there. The subways were running very well, but none were stopping at 49th/7th. So...I had to brave the crowds at 42nd St/Times Square, where security was tight for the crowds who were there to watch the brand new ball drop (11,000 pounds of Waterford crystal with multicolored kaleidoscopic effects, 12ft across, double the size of the previous ball).
It took me about a quarter of an hour to exit Times Square station alone, as many exits within the blockaded area were closed - I suppose if you were watching the ball drop you would have been there with a ticket hours earlier. Even following directions to the special exits, I circulated around the station at least 3 times passing the same cops again and again, until by some chance I found my way out. The streets and avenues surrounding Times Square were blocked with barriers and police cruisers and guarded carefully by police officers, so if you had to get into a venue you needed proof of entry.
Well, I thought I was going to 7th/8th so I approached the three cops at the gate. When I couldn't get my friends on the phone, one suggested to the other that he escort me in, so I went for a walk with one of New York City's finest and we had a pleasant chat, but it turns out I was one block off and should have been on the unrestricted block at 8th/9th. I felt silly but he laughed and said it was no problem. I thanked him for walking with me, and he thanked me for allowing him to take a walk. I did feel sorry for the thousands of NYC cops out in force last night, bundled up to their eyeballs and carrying the weight of their belts and their training into the streets. At times like this the city belongs to them, and people were really well behaved, no shouting, no disorder, no obvious drunkenness just people going where they had to go, albeit in silly hats.
Under my seemingly civilized evening wear I was wearing some pretty cozy layers. Then I put on a long wraparound cardigan to go under the coat, plus my fur accessories, yet I was still not quite warm enough...
A Max Studio top which I didn't like until I put the belt on. Belt, cocktail ring, velvet trousers from London. 1928 necklace from NYC. Crystal earrings from my friend Amy, 2007. Mother's vintage Rado watch.
Kenny Davidson at the piano. Singalong to "New York, New York"
It was delightfully informal with a selection of rooms to sit in. Denise and Clif had got there early and chosen the main room next to the piano. Kenny played for 4 hours straight, including some of his own compositions. We sang along to anything we wanted, wrote requests on napkins, and even audience members who were professional or amateur singers could get a few minutes at the microphone. The bartenders too were singers and comedians.
There were many pop songs, oldies, crooner classics, and Broadway tunes from Natasha Bedingfield to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody to Showboat. In fact, by the time we left the pianists had swapped rooms and a younger guy would be singing some Beatles numbers until 4am.
It got crazy when waiter George took over to ring in the New Year and it got bawdy - in fact there were moments when even Kenny at the piano would call out a warning, "Now then, George..." Every year George customizes his apron - last year it was Michelangelo's David - well, this year he had sewn on a flap which lifted to reveal a pop up p*nis made of pantyhose and foam complete with matching beard. No wonder he worked so hard to get us all drunk before midnight! Whatever else happened in the room, stays in the room but at one point Denise was laughing so hard I thought she would faint. I guess now I know why it's called "Don't Tell Mama"!
Tumble, crash, thud, and I was out of bed in a flash with my heart racing!
Alone in the house, for a moment I had to remind myself that my roomie had told me the place wasn't haunted and I didn't need the nightlight.
I couldn't face it at that hour, so I left it till the next day, picked up the smashed baubles and rehung the good ones, by which time roomie was back home so she vacuumed up the pine needles. While she was doing so the tree fell again - on top of her. We adjusted the base as best we could and it's standing once more, albeit with more lopsided decorations.
I know, I have about 3 memes to catch up with in the next few days! :)
At the beginning of the week, it rained, which turned to sleet, which turned to wet snow.
It stuck a little bit.
It would not have been nice if the wet roads had frozen, but at the most it settled, became slushy. By Wednesday all was reduced to a falling mist which obscured the tops of buildings. On Thursday, the sun was laser bright.
But today there was a snowstorm that had the city scrambling to salt the roads. Like clockwork, half the neighborhood was out shoveling driveways and scraping the sidewalks because the snow turned to sleet which is fast becoming freezing rain as darkness falls. Ooh, I think I just saw some winter lightning, yep, and there's the thunder.
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Thursday, the day of falling mist, I went into town to meet fellow blogger Rick (oh he of Palm Springs fame) for breakfast at the Waldorf-Astoria, which is the done thing, like tea at the Ritz.
A couple of jetsetters are we, to meet twice in the same year in two different world cities. I enjoy this tradition and hope it continues.
Eggs Benedict seems to be the dish of choice for breakfast, but as I was not very hungry I had a bagel instead and now regret that decision because I am not likely to go back anytime soon.
The Waldorf-Astoria is one of the most beautiful hotels I have ever seen. Like the city of New York, it is full of Art Deco detail (the present incarnation of the W-A having been opened in 1931), so much that my eyes were overwhelmed and I would have taken photos of the corners of everything if I hadn't felt so self conscious about it.
The Waldorf-Astoria looms over St Bartholomew's
So I made do with a quick shot of one of the elevator doors
...And a view of the Park Avenue (exterior) lobby. The Main (interior) lobby was more like the heart: darker and warmer, with an ezquisite central clock flanked by the Peacock Alley restaurant.
After breakfast, I wandered into St Bartholomew's for the midday Holy Eucharist but left before it started because the only people in there were two Polish women gossiping behind me, a businessman who went to the front to pray for a few minutes, and the permanent fixtures, a handful of snoring bums installed at the ends of the pews. I suppose it would have been unchristian of the ladies at reception to turn them away.
Feeling unusually discouraged by the quietness I skipped the free Baroque Christmas concert too and re-emerged into the light of day to start my trek uptown.
This is when I like New York City - along the great Avenues - when I have my great impressionistic moments. Looks like I'm more of a city girl than I'd thought.
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I had told Rick I might visit the Frick Collection, and I was true to my word. I walked 20 blocks uptown on Park Avenue and then cut across to Fifth, which took about half an hour and soon found myself at this neat little mansion/museum, former home of steel magnateHenry Clay Frick (protege of Andrew Carnegie).
Of all sources outside the collection's website, my longtime subscription The New York Social Diary has perhaps the best pictures of the interior along with a great deal of enlightening social column-style gossip on Mr Frick and his circle.
The Frick is one of the best private collections in America, containing lots of Renaissance bronze sculptures, a few pieces bequeathed by his contemporary John D Rockefeller, a number of Old Masters and medieval Italian panels, some works by Vermeer, Constable, and others I recognized as in: "Oh, wow! I didn't know this was here."
I also greatly appreciated the small jewel-like Boucher Room (see NYSD), like a tiny and perfect ballroom: candy-toned Boucher wall panels and little Louis XV mechanical tables, complete with 17th century creaking parquet floor shipped from France.
Frick was not a great fan of James McNeill Whistler, yet these musically-themed pieces were perhaps my favorite pieces in the collection. On a musical theme, L to R:
1 - Harmony in Pink and Grey: Portrait of Lady Meux, 1881-82
2 - Arrangement in Brown and Black: Portrait of Miss Rosa Corder, 1876-78
3 - Symphony in Flesh Colour and Pink: Portrait of Mrs Frances Leyland, 1872-73
4 - Arrangement in Black and Gold: Comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac, 1891-92
Mr Frick's collection perfectly mirrors his simple personal tastes. There is little violence, mostly serenity. According to the video presentation in the Music Room, after a particularly harrowing day, Mr Frick might stroll through the darkened halls to his Gallery, turn on the light, and sit for an hour or more on one couch and then another, absorbing beauty into his soul.
In the early morning, Times Square is sort of unsettling because you know it is waiting for the nighttime, the darkness....
I did not know which way to turn the camera. To my left was the Armed Services Recruitment Center, and to my right an NYPD station - both luminous boxes of colored flashing lights.
I decided to check out the Holiday Fair at Grand Central Station, so I walked the few blocks over to Park Avenue and 42nd Street.
Walking east along 41st Street, I looked up and saw this sight
Even closer, and here are Grand Central, the Hyatt Regency where I stayed this summer, and the Chrysler Building
A Christmas tree of cycling colored screens near the great hall at Grand Central
The most famous man in the world on a magazine rack at a bookstore where I hung out while waiting for the crepe stand to open so I could have a crepe suzette.
One of many letterboxes in the lower Dining Concourse. At Grand Central, if it's not made of stone then it's made of brass - the metal of choice in this city. I've included a Wiki link covering the creation and history of this, yet another astounding Beaux Arts landmark. There is so much I could say but don't feel like turning this post into one of my infamous infoblogs, but I will drop one goodie, which is that two of Hitler's spies were foiled in a sabotage attempt underneath the station!
Vanderbilt Hall at Grand Central, where the Holiday Fair was held. Of course I was more taken by the architecture than the fair, which was predictably composed of many lovely stalls of expensive exquisite handmade baubles.
As I was already in town and it was a lovely mild day (48F/8C), I decided to walk down to 34th Street by Macy's Herald Square where I could catch the subway back to Brooklyn. So here is the Empire State Building against a backdrop of altostratus clouds.
Gah! Even at the best of times using her own pan, my roomie heats oil at full blast, so her fried eggs have that crispy brown film at the bottom, and the yolk is runny - but so is some of the albumen (!).
Ewww. Since the first weekend I moved in and she did that, I never again accepted her offer to make me eggs.
Today I fried an egg using my awesome Cuisinart Green Gourmet ceramica pan, which uses less oil and lower temps than the old nonstick pans. It is so slick, absolutely nothing sticks so you hardly have to wash it, which is great because it doesn't go in the diswasher and anything that won't go in the dishwasher is anathema to my roommate. She will put in a glass that she took one sip out of, she even puts in her marble cheeseboard (which sometimes flakes and has lost its polished finish) and all the grids and plates off the gas stove. When I moved in, I had to buy a hand towel for the kitchen, a sponge and detergent so I could wash a dish here and there, and a cloth so I could wipe down the counters (she goes through paper towels at an alarming rate).
Oh, one time I went out for the day, she stayed home and watched TV on the sofa. When I came back I wanted to make a cup of tea; there were no cups - all in the dishwasher. I wondered, no rinsing? She said, too lazy. Thought to self: easier to rinse a cup in the sink which is right next to the kettle, than open the dishwasher door and roll out the rack for one item. I said, but it's only herbal tea. She said, didn't want to cross contaminate my peach tea with my mint tea. Thought to self: But it's rinsed out!
So anyway, back to the egg frying.
The oil starts to sizzle as the flame is going like the dickens, then she puts the eggs in and after a moment removes the pan from the flame looking puzzled. As she eats them she complains they got a bit burned. Same result she gets from her tatty old peeling Anolon wok (which by the way, is leaching rust and carcinogens into the food) and you still have to scrape the eggs out, so what gives?
I gingerly explained the benefits of ceramica, but she's the kind of person I rarely explain things to because she always outdoes me somehow, and because I go quiet, she thinks I don't understand anything. Another story for another time, perhaps. Although I can get along with a brick and everyone knows I am surprisingly easygoing, please remind me to never live with an only child.
When I fry an egg, I keep the heat low so that the white gets that lovely rubbery texture. I can even flip my egg to seal the yolk while keeping it runny, but one time I felt destructive and pressed down, breaking the yolk which spread out and fried. It was so delicious and tender (the yolk ends up feeling just like the white) that's the only way I eat fried eggs now!
I had a HUUUUUUUGE weekend with my friends and the amazing photos are forthcoming, if I could only choose which ones to share.
Meantime, since yesterday afternoon I have not been feeling so well, but I'm ok now and I've just eaten breakfast (at 4pm...). It's that darned stomach again. So, apart from a brisk walk I took last night during an hour of respite, I am not going anywhere today. Plus, the black clouds are rolling in right now and there is a severe weather alert for the NYC area...
Anyway, perhaps as a result of the 8 antacids (!) I took yesterday evening, I had the longest and most amazing dream.
It was like one of those apocalyptic movies. I dreamed that everyone on earth underwent this subtle transformation but for a few minutes it did nearly turn into a zombie nightmare. A group of us including me had holed ourselves up in a kitchen in the back of a big house during the transition. It must have taken longer than a few days and less than a few weeks, as we had enough food in stock to survive.
There were some moments when the creepy changelings outside nearly discovered us through the rather shoddy door. But we were alright, and when we thought it was over, they sent me out as a scout with my cell phone.
I emerged into a peaceful world where everything looked perfect. It was as though the planet had been transformed into a utopia - a sunshine and picket fence, colorful flowers and white linen trousers type of world. People were cheerfully getting along and helping each other just as they should. Sitting at outdoor cafes and laughing; strolling along in cosy banter. Considering how it all began, this scared me a bit, but I didn't feel threatened and I blended in because everyone else looked normal again, just a bit more shiny than I.
The only thing that scared me a bit was that when I opened my phone (I don't even like flip phones!) to report back to the group, every voice fell silent and every head in the vicinity immediately turned in my direction. Had they detected my signal? Then I realized I hadn't seen a single cell phone since starting out, and THEN I realized everyone was tuned into a single consciousness that had become aware of me and my "pre-change" technology. I wondered how I was still receiving cell phone service if it was not needed on this new earth. I searched for a quiet area to speak, but at this point I was probably beginning to be stealthily pursued or something, the stranger in their midst.
I woke up, drifted back to sleep, and there were a few more imaginings of this sort, but I didn't go in deep. As I slowly returned to consciousness I wondered to myself why my group had fought back and not let ourselves become a part of that utopia. Probably because it was just not natural to the human condition, or probably because there was an undiscovered dark side.
As I started this post I suddenly realized where the inspiration for the dream originated: Invasion by Robin Cook - even though I read that book over a month ago and haven't even thought of it since. It starts with tiny alien discs that fall to earth. Everyone who picks one up is injected, falls ill with a short flu, and emerges from it the next day a better, healthier, hypersensitive, superstrong, more robust and cheerful version of themselves .... well you will just have to read the book or Google it yourself, but it gets creepier after that. I won't be blamed for dropping all the spoilers for you.
Once again, feel free to just look at pics if the reading or even the skimming is too much :)
It's a direct cut n paste from Blogger, so you even get the comment and profile links, etc. How strange! Anyway, there are six posts from the month of July, ending with the watermelon soup, which I dare you to try if you haven't already.
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Sunday, August 03, 2008
One weekend in Saturday
I seem to have a thing with weekends now. Or maybe this is what weekends are supposed to be like!
On Friday, Vera flew in from France. She's been there for 3 years studying photography - she is "one of the gang" from university in Houston (and was nearly my second roomie until Residence Life gave me Vanessa). She is staying with Chris while she undertakes a 2-month internship at a magazine. The three of us met up at Union Square for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. Being experts on Tex-Mex and Chris's family coming from Mexico, we were not impressed.
But the decor was fun!
Poor Vera was so tired from her flight that when we finished dinner at 11pm her body clock was at 5am, so she fell asleep at the table, and the waiter thought she was drunk!
On Saturday we were to meet up at Lisa's house at 12.30 pm for a pot-luck brunch (she who had the housewarming party last month, Chris knows her from his MBA school).
It was hard to get up because I'd been up past 3 am chatting with roomie's gay friend from high school. He sees in me a fellow artist, some of his more whimsical little photos are much like mine (playing with shapes and light, etc).
However, mid-morning some amazing storms swept throught the Tri-State area ;)
That's me sounding like a local.
(Tri-State refers to the Manhattan area commuter belt of New York/New Jersey/Connecticut.)
Raindrops on the glass-enclosed revolving doors at Lisa's apartment building. The doorman thought it was a great idea.
Anyway, the rain held a few people back from arriving at brunch on time, including Chris and Vera, who arrived last at nearly 3pm bringing a giant Spanish omelette when everyone had stopped stuffing themselves an hour before. Because Lisa had worked in Mexico City for a while, she always makes great pico de gallo and has tortillas on hand. There were all sorts of brunchy food and drinks, even white wine!
Chris, Vera and I were the last to leave - after that we went back to his place in Jersey City, which is now full of boxes and new things. Vera has an air mattress in the living room, but she is very much the starving artist type, and so she deflated that because she prefers her sleeping bag directly on the floor!
We got into the car armed with directions to Wal-Mart in Union City, NJ. I love being Navigator.
For the first time in my years in the US, I actually like, um, Wal-Mart....Plus shopping in NJ is great because you pay 7% state and county tax instead of NY's 8.5ish% (depending on your county). BUT the counties/boroughs that make up NYC have eliminated all sales tax on clothing and shoes that cost under $110 each. These are Manhattan, Bronx, Queens, Kings (Brooklyn), Richmond (Staten Island).
And there is no Wal-Mart within reach of the Metropolitan Transit Authority so I can't take the subway. Since Chris has to shop there a lot in the next month, and because he is sure it can take him less than half an hour to drive from Jersey City to Bay Ridge, he promises to let me shop with him and then drop me off at home! Woot! No bag-lugging across Manhattan (it takes an hour and a half on the subway, but by car across bridges and through Staten Island, it is much shorter because this area really is quite compact.
Wal-Mart is so amazingly affordable that they felt bad for all the purchases they had made at Target the day before. Target is the cool and trendy fashionista's version of Wal-Mart. And I felt bad that I had bought anything anywhere else too.
We were there until closing at 10pm, then we headed back to Chris's place for dinner using whatever he had in his fridge (eggs, ham, English muffins, and salsa). The night views of Manhattan from his living room window are great, and the breeze is wonderful on the 23rd floor.
The brightest and tallest spot in Manhattan is now the Empire State Building, a reinstatement as it was from the 1930s to the 1960s. Fitting because it is a symbol of New York, "The Empire State" - but imagine how it would have looked with the WTC twin towers...
Then I worked the kinks out of Vera's neck and shoulders while she fell asleep, bless her, because she had been in pain throughout the day. Chris dropped me off at the Pavonia PATH station at quarter to midnight, and I arrived in Bay Ridge at a quarter to 2am. The New Jersey PATH trains and the NYC subway were as busy at this time as they are in the daytime. I don't know how long it will take me to get used to this pattern.
And so, today, Sunday, I am doing what you should on Sundays: resting. Oh, but I do need to pop out to buy more bagels, Swiss cheese, and whatever other foodstuff takes my fancy.
I had such a busy weekend that Monday felt like a Saturday.
On the real Saturday, I met a couple of friends at the MoMA. I never thought I would say this about a modern art museum, but I think I will have to go back. You can't see everything in one afternoon, and I've just found out I missed a lot of stuff I would know about from my art history course, including Dali's Persistence of Time, and Oppenheim's Fur Cup.
On the top floor was a special Dali and surrealist film exhibition, so five sections were showing screenings of:
Un Chien Andalou - the famously weird one where the cow's eye is sliced open, the ants crawl out of a man's hand, or the man hauls two priests (Dali and Bunuel) attached to two pianos with two bloody dead donkeys inside. Seriously. The music gets a bit stuck in your head too, and like any of Dali's paintings, it leaves you feeling unsettled.
l'Age d'Or - a longer film by Dali and Bunuel, slightly erotically charged, and with a plot.
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Spellbound - a Dali/Hitchcock collaboration starring Ingrid Bergman and a young Gregory Peck. One of the backdrops was on display, along with Dali's sketches for scenes.
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And Destino, a short from the Disney studios chock full of iconic Dali imagery. Imagine, back then Walt Disney was so cutting edge that Dali chose him to bring his works to life:
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After the museum closed and we were ushered out, we had dinner at a Thai place. I had never tasted plum wine before, but it was delicious. The color of tea, it tasted like sherry and pecans.
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On the way down to Times Square later on:
Walked into the NBC store for some quiet during a phone conversation
Public concourse on the ground floor of the Rockefeller Center (GE Building).
A really nice staircase and floor. This (like the Empire State Building) was one of the large public works projects enacted during the Great Depression to give men jobs. In my opinion, it was the last time things were made to last forever - they really knew how to build 'em back then. Black granite and brass everywhere, and great murals too.
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And that's not the end of Saturday:
After dinner, I parted with Dan and Laura, and met Chris in Times Square to see Dark Knight. It was sold out again, so we got tickets for The Stepbrothers, which was good for a wicked laugh. The theater was so full at 10pm that we had to sit on the second row and gape upwards.
When we left near midnight, people were still going in for more shows and the streets were full of people of every description. This is indeed the city that never sleeps.
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On Sunday, I met Denise and Clif in the East Village for brunch at a little Ukrainian spot called Odessa. There was the original little cafe with tiny booths and red bar stools, which is where we met. The newer and larger restaurant next door was packed, but we opted for authenticity.
The East Village is just as you would imagine: tree-lined streets of character brownstones including little old Catholic missions behind ivy covered walls, lively little walk-down basement shops (which I am sure appeared in You've Got Mail) offering vegan food, tattoo parlors, vintage clothing, etc. I saw a few punks but I guess being right next to NYU, more numerous were young intellectual types who wear hats, glasses, waistcoats with t-shirts, and sit and read poetry on doorsteps or under trees. They exist!
Anyway, at Odessa I enjoyed the Chef's Special as my intro to a hearty Yiddish breakfast: a sweet cheese blintz, four assorted pierogies, and a potato pancake, served with a side of sour cream and apple sauce. You also get a choice of coffee or tea (I chose the latter), plus a mimosa, screwdriver or bloody mary. I chose the mimosa. The staff look Mexican and are very polite and careful, and when you say "thank you" they say, "my pleasure".
After that satisfying lunch or even early dinner we walked around the farmer's market in the park across the road. Pretty soon a storm blew in so we legged it to the subway four blocks away and made it in time, but I stood outside taking in the wind which nearly knocked me backwards, but boy was it fresh! While waiting to cross the road it was blowing so hard there was dust sandblasting the back of my legs.
Then the sky came down and I spotted a Kmart-Sears so ran across to buy a hand drill because Chris had suggested that before he starts work on Monday he would like to help me assemble my bed which has been sitting in its lovely flat pack IKEA boxes for the past month. And I keep complaining about it. My friends are the BEST.
Because of the cooler weather, roomie wanted to cook some fresh fish she had bought. Pollock, the new cod. Americans are much more familiar with pollock, which comes out of the Alaskan waters. I've noticed some fish n chip shops in London are trying to phase it in during the critical cod shortage.
So, while Chris and I did the building - which according to the instructions needed 3 people after all and we could have done with 4 - roomie helped when needed and the rest of the time prepared dinner.
The pollock was grilled with olive oil and black pepper, and topped with an Italian salsa of diced tomato, chopped garlic, basil, and black pepper. Very yummy. We also had a spinach and rocket (arugula) salad with feta cheese, avocado, and papaya dressing.
No carbs, but we were satisfied and felt better for eating such healthy fare.
I went for an interview this morning at a dentist's office. I can say it went well judging by how excited I felt when I walked out of there. Suffice to say, it will allow me to exercise all my skills and learn more, where formerly I was frustrated at not being able to use enough of them.
Fingers crossed everyone!
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I didn't tell you about my wild karaoke weekend, did I? Well, on Friday, one of my old uni friends (Chris) from Houston moved up to NYC, and on Friday we went to a housewarming party put on by one of his friends from the MBA program they've just finished. A lot of them are moving up here at the moment. After we'd eaten and mingled, and most of them went home after 11pm, about 7 of us walked down to Korean Town for green tea ice cream and karaoke. Two of the group did a Madonna number, but mostly we sat and watched the surreal proceedings. Before we left around 2am, I joined C and his friend singing the Beatles (Obladi Oblada). For the second time in my life, I sang karaoke and it was fun :)
I left my sunglasses at Lisa's place that night, so we arranged to meet for a movie yesterday evening. Lisa couldn't make it, so it was just Chris and me, and Dark Knight was sold out so we saw H*llboy II (don't feel like showing up on Google), which was acceptable viewing since it would be full of weird creatures from the minds of the creators of Pan's Labyrinth. Afterwards, we walked to her place 7 blocks away, and on the way passed this behemoth, the United States Post Office - and at 10.30 pm it was open, probably for the use of the automated machines.
"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds", commonly but mistakenly thought of as the USPS creed, it is really only the inscription above the NYC Post Office. It is derived from a passage in the Histories of Herodotus (5th century AD), in reference to the couriers of ancient Persia.
*****
****[ADDENDUM] I have found out that this post office was opened in 1914 and then doubled in size in 1934. It takes up 2 city blocks and 1.5 million sq. ft. of space! It is home to 2,500 employees. It is indeed open 24/7. The lobby retains the vista of the exterior colonnades with Corinthian columns. The building is surrounded by a dry moat, giving light and air to the basement levels.
In 2005, the USPS sold the Farley Building to the Pennsylvania Station Redevelopment Corporation to develop it into the new Penn Station, its original designation. However, the USPS will still retain 250,000 sq. ft. and 900 employees in the facility.****
*****
Today after the interview, I went to Steve & Barry's, a unique store in the Manhattan Mall, where everything costs $8.68 or less. Not kidding! Sarah Jessica Parker and Venus Williams both design their own lines exclusively for S&B. When I moved here, obviously I didn't pack old clothes for knocking about at home or in the park, so this is the next best thing...
Six items for the price of one or two at a regular department store? Wow.
It rained this afternoon, and because the weather has been so hot, it feels like a sauna outside. I came out for a breath of air but didn't find much out here!
Here is one week condensed into one day, what a concept!
1) An addictive breakfast of spicy scrambled egg (with chipotle powder, sriracha sauce, lots of cheese) in a Thomas Sahara wrap, topped with ketchup.
2) Wandered into Payless Shoe Source, where if all else fails you can pick up something for a bargain, and they're now in the middle of the big summer sale. These beaded white patent leather flats are by Brazilian designer Abaete for Payless, original price £39.95 and, yep, you guessed it, I got these for $19.95. My Steve Madden-wearing roomie loves them ;)
3) In SoHo for a haircut at the wonderful Aveda, where it always smells like rosemary and you get a complimentary hand massage and herbal tea. Hair is an expensive thing to have.
There are many warehouses on cobbled streets in this small shopping/gallery district. I spotted many familiar European names: Karen Millen, L'Occitane en Provence (with its own restaurant!), Benetton, Ben Sherman, Pepe Jeans, and so on.
Immediately after snapping this, on the steps of a quaint cafe, I struck up a conversation with a couple from London - he's been here a year, she's been here a couple of months. And they love it.
4) Back home in Bay Ridge, I pass a fire station in the dwindling light.
4) It's dark out, and I am home, all sweaty, but happy. I love my Ralph Lauren t-shirts and my Yankees baseball cap ;)
Honestly, though, even in Texas I rarely wore caps or even hats...but it's actually a good idea if you're on a field trip - not in the city, of course. They dress up out there.
Today in NYC it's as hot as Texas: 94F (33C). In a little while I am setting off for a housewarming party in Chelsea for some former business school classmates of my friend Chris, who moved up from Houston yesterday.
Foot update: It's been nearly a week since it's been out of sorts. I re-injured it the day before yesterday running up the stairs from a giant spider just when it was improving, but it feels as though it will be better tomorrow...I hope.
Job update: Monday I am meeting someone at an allied health career college to find out about their programs. That's right. As usual, I am attempting another field change. Pharmacy tech? Veterinary tech? Dental assistant? We shall see....there is MUCH growth in the health care and medical research sector here and I would hate to miss out on it. Remember, I started out in biology and my first job was in a lab. I enjoyed it and found it fulfilling, so why did I leave? To follow a pipe dream, an idealistic whim, thinking I could earn money on a hobby.
Although the arts are huge out here, there is not much money in it. I dread being pigeonholed into finance again. And at this point I seek stability rather than pipe dreams. As an adult, you learn that life revolves around paying the rent. I want to be in a field that will not suffer during future economic downturns.
I went for a walk yesterday evening, despite having a sore foot, I know not why. I walked 30 blocks up the length of Shore Road Park overlooking the Upper New York Harbor. Then I returned home on the subway. Needless to say, I am home nursing said foot and my knee hurts, and I feel quite decrepit...
View to the south of Verrazano Narrows Bridge and part of Staten Island
View to the north towards Manhattan
One of the cargo ships moored for the night in the harbor
A few days ago, roomie and I made watermelon soup after all. It was weird at first and I wasn't sure I'd want it again. I am no watermelon or soup lover (though I'll eat either if proffered), and cold soups make me squeamish. But by the second day - as with any soup - the flavours had settled in and it was delicious! Now it will haunt me until I eat it again - a culinary highlight of summer 2008. I hope you will give it a try, it's really easy to make.
6 lb yellow or red seedless watermelon, diced (9 cups)
2 tbsp chopped fresh mint
1 tbsp sugar (I used brown)
1 tsp chopped ginger (or more if you like)
1 cup lightly sweet white wine (such as Riesling)
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
8 tsp crumbled feta
Combine 1 cup of the watermelon with mint and sugar in a bowl. Set aside as reserve.
Blend remaining 8 cups watermelon, ginger, wine and lemon juice in a blender until smooth. Let sit 1/2 hour.
Strain soup. Divide among 8 bowls. Top each with reserved watermelon and crumbled feta. (Personally I just crumbled as much as I wanted on it, the saltiness is a wonderful complement to the fresh sweetness of the soup).
ENJOY!
(As we ate I joked that we could have skipped the feta, added vodka, and made watermelon cocktails...)
CATCHUP BLOG - I am so sorry, y'all! So sorry! I haven't had much time as I've been unsettled since moving to the new place in Brooklyn. So feel free to just look at the photos, if you like.
Now that I am not gallivanting every day, and am finally able to sit down and apply to jobs, I also now have the time to blog *ahem*
**guilty eyes**
I promise I won't leave it so long next time. My mind is just all over the place, and I've lost focus and the momentum I started out with, i.e. finding this apartment, getting financially set up, renewing driver's license, etc, etc, etc. Because at the rate all that happened, I should have a job by now. (I've been here just over a month now.)
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FROM JUNE 19th, 2008:
The R Train crossing the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn
Last Sunday I revisited the new home I will be moving into this Sunday. New roomie-to-be and I chatted, ate a bowl of blueberries, and measured every surface in my new room.
It had rained in the morning so the breeze was delicious, and following her directions I went on an exploratory walk. I will be living only a couple of blocks away from Shore Park which looks out onto Upper New York Bay and buffers Bay Ridge from the big parkway directly along the shore.
Trying to see the Verrazano Narrows Bridge through the trees as I enter the parkLittle fountains dot the length of the parkIt was too sunny for me to patch a panoramic together using the nifty function on my phone, so........there are simply two separate photos of the bridge running into the distance (Staten Island, actually)
Then I walked back "inland" and explored some of the neat little streets in the neighborhood. This is what I saw:
Some little Brooklyn whitestones, I'll show you brownstones another timeA quirky narrow VictorianA real dollshouse!Oliver Street, a good signThis photo does not convey the peaceful villageyness of this street. Note the trees were trained to lean into the street and arch over it as you see in the next photo:A pleasant green tunnel, again not well conveyed by the photoAnd a rather Hollywood-style mansion across from a private schoolHeading towards the shops on 86th Street, I came across a Cupcake Bakery!
I hope I remember where this was.....
So then I spent the entire remainder of the afternoon on 86th between 4th and 5th Avenues, never even making it to the center of the borough on Atlantic Avenue where the courthouse and even more amenities lie, including a new Target, a store I missed very much when I was in London.
There is every shop, bar, cafe, bistro, and convenience I could ever want right here in Bay Ridge, even some I hadn't expected - and all in one place - so I'd never need to go into Manhattan. Imagine if I got a job in Brooklyn too, my friends uptown would have to coax me into the City.
Tomorrow I will visit the Brooklyn IKEA that had its Grand Opening today in Red Hook, just north of Bay Ridge. There is a special ferry going between it and Pier 11 on Wall Street. Also, free shuttle buses servicing the nearby subway stops. But of course I want to take the ferry!
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FROM JULY 1, 2008:
I have sunburn!
Roomie came home from work after lunch so we packed a picnic and went to Shore Park by the bridge (you've all seen pics in last post) and had a fun game of badminton.
Apologies for not blogging as much as I'd like. My photos are on my laptop, my wi-fi reception is intermittent, and I don't really want to blog on the shared computer because, well, it's not portable!
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THE BED SAGA
I bought a four poster bed at IKEA two weekends ago. The mattress and storage base were in the store so I acquired them for delivery. The four poster frame was somewhere in New Jersey, so they kept the other two pieces in order to marry the three and make one delivery a few days later. A week and a half later, my delivery comes - without bed frame.
The walk to Pier 11 takes you along Wall Street. Clockwise L to R:
Federal Hall is where George Washington was sworn in as the first president of the United States of America in April 1789.
View of Trinity Church at the top end of Wall Street.
Trinity upshot.
The New York Stock Exchange at night.
The free IKEA ferry uses a couple of NY Water Taxis
**********
JERSEY CITY
Last week I accompanied my old friend from Houston on his quest to find an apartment in the area. If I'd had more time to find a place I would have looked at Jersey City too. We saw 13 apartments. No matter how many you see, there is always the ONE that stands out, and that is the one he took the very next day.
They build those luxury apartments really well in Jersey City, and the views over the water of Manhattan, Ellis Island, and the Statue of Liberty are amazing. There are some charming historic streets, but there is a lot of development going on and yet it is a very pristine area full of wide streets, benches and flowerbeds. Not only are there fancy new towerblocks, but the new rowhouses (terraces) are being built in the traditional style with great variations between each one, all charming. The area around the old power station will become a trendy arts district in the next 2 or The PATH train (that stops first at World Trade Center) is large, clean, and fast. It only takes 2 minutes to cross into Jersey, and 10 minutes max to get to Pavonia/Newport.
Clockwise L to R:
The old power station will be the center of a new arts district currently under development.
Downtown Manhattan at the end of the pier at Jersey City.
A view from one of the luxury condo towers.
Two towers going up.
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THE CHOCOLATE HEAVEN
Tuesday was a welcome break so Chris could negotiate for his new apartment and I could pay attention to mine, and meet with my friend Denise for the first time since her wedding.
Denise suggested a trendy young Thai place, and then we made the discovery of the season:
Max Brenner's chocolate factory, and the delightful hug mugs
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THE TOURISTY DAY
Chris and I met up twice more that week and did touristy things.
Wednesday: Landmark Tour of Buildings - Empire State, Chrysler, and GE (Rockefeller)
I lost the best artsy photos, and I don't know how!
A passageway in Grand Central StationA late art deco building on 6th AvenueAn exterior wall of the Chrysler BuildingA doorway surrounded by an art deco Zodiac frieze
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THE NERDY DAY
Thursday: Day at the Museum (of Natural History)Teddy Roosevelt was a governor of New YorkThe Art Horses are here already! Jazzy one.Mechanical oneThe main hall of the museumThe Planetarium where we watched When Planets Collide
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THE CONCLUSION
Friday, I had a preliminary interview for a part time job at a furniture gallery (haven't heard back yet for the second round), and met my cousin for dinner at a lovely Italian place near Union Square called Buona Sera.
And I got a nifty new phone, the flattest I've ever seen. Though this one takes photos and plays music, I am keeping my Sony Ericsson for the 3.2MP camera and MP3 player with silicone earbuds.
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FROM JULY 7, 2008:
Well, here I am again. I've been trying to blog for days now, but wi-fi is not set up in this apartment so I've been borrowing someone's from nearby, which means it's intermittent. I could use the shared desktop computer with cable internet, but I need my phonecam/laptop Bluetooth connection. I love Bluetooth, yes I do.
So, let's get started!
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FOURTH OF JULY
We were supposed to go on an historic walk through the Revolutionary sites of downtown New York (centered around the old Wall Street area), but having stayed up until 5am comparing travel photos and artsy shots, it was after noon by the time I got out of bed.
If you don't leave the house early, it becomes harder to get out after a certain hour of the afternoon has passed, but I made it. Roomie and I are dangerous, both being only children and therefore sharing a few similar weaknesses. I went to the South Street Seaport to see the Macy's Fourth of July fireworks, visible from most parts of the city. There were three barges along the East River and many public viewing points.
The explosions were so powerful that when one went off, the shockwave caused my clothing to move, although they didn't sound as loud as you would imagine. There were new displays that floated on the water, but I didn't see them because I wasn't at the front. I did see the new ones that changed color in mid-air.
The first set (0.45)
If you can't see the video, here are a couple of photos:
After this, I couldn't keep the raindrops off the lens and it went blurry when the camera decided to focus on the droplets rather than the fireworks.
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THE DAY AFTER INDEPENDENCE DAY
In the evening, I went on a long walk in the cool following the afternoon rain.
The sun really does go down right there, at the end of the bridge. And most of the sound you hear ahead of the traffic is the waves lapping against the rocks below me.
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LAZY SUNDAY
Roomie took me to her fave French cafe a few blocks away for brunch. Sunday Brunch at small cafes is a hugely popular tradition out here, and it may be difficult to stay home next Sunday. I had a Croque Monsieur, and wow it was so yummy I didn't want it to end; came with a mesclun salad sprinkled with vinaigrette and fresh black pepper. The brunch menu for $16.95 includes a hot and cold beverage, a main, and a dessert. For a few dollars more you can add a morning cocktail! (Maybe next time.) My dessert was a pear, almond and pistachio tart. The portions were perfect and we were full up. I was both bemused and encouraged to see two teens, a boy and a girl about 15 years of age, come in to the cafe and order escargots swimming in garlic butter with a sliced baguette for sopping it up, and ooh it smelled good.
Full stomachs called for a walk around the neighborhood. It is difficult to imagine this is Brooklyn, much less within the New York City limits. Roomie says it is "very Long Island".
Here is one example of New England colonial in a street of varied but stately architectural styles, all raised quite high over the sidewalk.
But the famed local gem by far is this place built in 1916 and nicknamed the Gingerbread House. I could not choose just one shot to show you!
Roomie's parents had brought a giant watermelon for just the two of us...! So we knuckled down and decided to cut into it. One shelf of the entire refrigerator is dedicated to its storage and I suggested making watermelon soup to get rid of some of it.
Afterwards, I was in the bathroom when I heard a shout and a stool fall. I emerged to see roomie standing on a chair pointing at a hideous looking centipede in the middle of the kitchen floor. She said, "I threw a chair at it and it's still alive!" My normally logical and sanguine roommate has a weakness after all.
Now, I thought I was scared of bugs, but I guess my years of exposure to the giant tropical critters along the Gulf of Mexico have inured me somewhat, though I admit that I did scream once when he nearly got away from me. I covered him with a glass vase, stuffed stiff cardboard underneath, tipped him into the vase, drowned him with kitchen cleaner, and flushed him down the toilet.
After we'd calmed down, we went for another walk.
Kenny Davidson at the piano. Singalong to "New York, New York"
Clif, Denise and Me at Don't Tell Mama
Apologies for not blogging as much as I'd like. My photos are on my laptop, my wi-fi reception is intermittent, and I don't really want to blog on the shared computer because, well, it's not portable!
**********
THE BED SAGA
I bought a four poster bed at IKEA two weekends ago. The mattress and storage base were in the store so I acquired them for delivery. The four poster frame was somewhere in New Jersey, so they kept the other two pieces in order to marry the three and make one delivery a few days later. A week and a half later, my delivery comes - without bed frame.
After this, I couldn't keep the raindrops off the lens and it went blurry when the camera decided to focus on the droplets rather than the fireworks.
********************
THE DAY AFTER INDEPENDENCE DAY
In the evening, I went on a long walk in the cool following the afternoon rain.
The sun really does go down right there, at the end of the bridge. And most of the sound you hear ahead of the traffic is the waves lapping against the rocks below me.
********************
LAZY SUNDAY
Roomie took me to her fave French cafe a few blocks away for brunch. Sunday Brunch at small cafes is a hugely popular tradition out here, and it may be difficult to stay home next Sunday. I had a Croque Monsieur, and wow it was so yummy I didn't want it to end; came with a mesclun salad sprinkled with vinaigrette and fresh black pepper. The brunch menu for $16.95 includes a hot and cold beverage, a main, and a dessert. For a few dollars more you can add a morning cocktail! (Maybe next time.) My dessert was a pear, almond and pistachio tart. The portions were perfect and we were full up. I was both bemused and encouraged to see two teens, a boy and a girl about 15 years of age, come in to the cafe and order escargots swimming in garlic butter with a sliced baguette for sopping it up, and ooh it smelled good.
Full stomachs called for a walk around the neighborhood. It is difficult to imagine this is Brooklyn, much less within the New York City limits. Roomie says it is "very Long Island".
Here is one example of New England colonial in a street of varied but stately architectural styles, all raised quite high over the sidewalk.
But the famed local gem by far is this place built in 1916 and nicknamed the Gingerbread House. I could not choose just one shot to show you!
Roomie's parents had brought a giant watermelon for just the two of us...! So we knuckled down and decided to cut into it. One shelf of the entire refrigerator is dedicated to its storage and I suggested making watermelon soup to get rid of some of it.
Afterwards, I was in the bathroom when I heard a shout and a stool fall. I emerged to see roomie standing on a chair pointing at a hideous looking centipede in the middle of the kitchen floor. She said, "I threw a chair at it and it's still alive!" My normally logical and sanguine roommate has a weakness after all.
Now, I thought I was scared of bugs, but I guess my years of exposure to the giant tropical critters along the Gulf of Mexico have inured me somewhat, though I admit that I did scream once when he nearly got away from me. I covered him with a glass vase, stuffed stiff cardboard underneath, tipped him into the vase, drowned him with kitchen cleaner, and flushed him down the toilet.
After we'd calmed down, we went for another walk.
