Saturday, October 16, 2004

My Day of days

today, i am sitting waiting for the train that goes from hamilton to penn station in manhattan. i wait for about twenty minutes, and right as the train pulls up, i look at my week ticket and realize that it has expired the day before. i run to the ticket window, hand him my credit card, wait while the computer processes, processes, and processes a little more, then i scribble a signature, grab my ticket, and run out of the waiting room right as the door to the train closes. i run to another door, but no, they all close at once, so i wait a half hour for another train. when i get to the city, i get in line for the free bus to IKEA. people start boarding the bus, and the man in charge counts people off. 47,48,49, stop. i am number 50 of course. thankfully, i got on another bus five minutes later, and i had my choice of seats.
we get to IKEA, and i start my shopping expedition with swedish meatballs, because they are amazing and things seem hopeless when i am hungry. then i start to pick out furniture. it took hours. white book shelf? birch bed? medium firm mattress? why i am not getting cell phone service when i need to consult with someone who can tell me what to do. i made all of the decisions on my own, even what comforter cover to buy, and then got in line. checking out was an ordeal because i had the wrong type of shopping cart and zero upper body strength, and end of this part of the story, i sat on a bench crying, eating soft serve, and talking to my mom.
it gets better.
i arrange to have the big pieces delivered to my apartment, but i am carrying two huge bags, a basket, and a comforter. i ride the bus, change to the subway, and then change to the train. my arms are shaking by the time i squeeze between two people on bench. i am supposed to get off at hamilton, where my aunt will be waiting. we get to hamilton, i run down the aisle of the train to grab my packages that i stored above the seats, i try to position them so that i can carry them out the door, but then the little noise sounds, letting me know that the doors have closed and we are now headed for trenton. thankfully, i did not cry again. i called my uncle, who called my aunt, and told her that he would come get me. so i stand in the trenton train station (not the safest place in the world.)it is now dark and cold, and there are about ten minutes where i think i am not getting picked up, and my whole life begins to look very bleak. california suddenly seems very safe and warm. hope is saved; my uncle comes and takes me to the movie theater where i meet my aunt, watch "shall we dance", and eat popcorn and whoppers.
tomorrow i move into my apartment. i am looking forward to being settled.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Titles are a lot of pressure

Blogspot posed me a question to answer while I was updating my profile today, and I did not have enough room to answer it, so I will do it here. The question is: Which do you prefer and why: whittling with soap or whistling with wood?
My thoughts: I believe the question should read "whittling with wood," but no matter, I will answer it as written. Although I have never whistled with wood, I have a hard enough time whistling on my own, so I am going to say that I would rather whittle soap. If the wood was shaped into a large train whistle then I might change my mind, but let's be realistic here. I enjoy whittling soap, and I do not enjoy whittling wood because I suck at it. When would you have time for this, you might ask? When you are in Colorado and just finished playing Tetris 2 and are waiting for the afternoon to cool off so that you can go play badminton (or as my grandparents call it, goodminton.)
I found a place to live!! I move in on Sunday. Yesterday I saw a taping of Late Night with Conan O'Brien, and although the guests were terrible, the comedian at the end was hilarious. He was a mix of Wesley Willis and Johnny Depp. He made jokes like," I wish they would make Fajita Cologne, because man those things smell good." End of joke. Then he said that he likes cottage cheese so much that it makes him want to try other dwelling cheeses, like high-rise cheese and, if he is feeling brave, motor home cheese. Finally, he said that belts hold your pants up, but belt loops hold the belt on. "What's going on down there? Who's the real hero?"
I am sure this is not funny in writing. Leave me alone.
To state the obvious, there are so many people in Manhattan. So many. And most of them walk too slowly.

Friday, October 08, 2004

New York, at last

So I moved to New York. While I am technically staying with family right now in New Jersey, I do spend my days in Manhattan, with the exception of today when I went to the Bronx for awhile, and yesterday and the day before when I stayed in New Jersey. I expect to be spending time in Manhattan very soon, as I start work in ten days.
First impression: love this city.
Second impression: love the city minus Canal Street and parts of Chelsea.
Third impression: Penn Station/Madison Square Garden is an eyesore.
Fourth impresison: love this city.