Once Upon a Time in Review

Well hello there--

The first big question on the mind of the blogger seems always to be this:

"shall I censor myself for these people?"

My sense is that, no... you are here because you want to hear what I'm thinking. And besides, censorship is bullshit. Now onto my blog!

It's been nearly a year for me in Manhattan. I can hardly believe it--while @ the same time it seems to have flown right by. I once had a media communications professor who claimed repeatedly that the secret to understanding life, is that some days-- the bear gets you. The way I figure it, while living in New York City, your chances of being had by the bear on any given day are about 50/50. Today for example, was highly productive and quite economical. I was able to drink endless cups of coffee over a surprisingly affordable brunch (brunch to New Yorkers is like church to mid-Westerners) while doing two loads of laundry, followed by a $2 trip to the bodega for some essentials and a long walk in the park over a large afternoon coffee and a cigarette: all for under $20. Fantastic! It was one of those days-- and I'm as shocked as you are-- that I didn't hate Harlem. True, that tomorrow I will be sexually harassed on my way to the filthy subway and miserable and exhausted and hating my commute home after work, but for now it has a certain glow of economical, ethnic and low-key appeal.

I'm noticing, come to think of it, that the Subway has almost everything to do with how you fare on any given day in this city. Your morning commute can make or break an entire 24hours. ESPECIALLY, and I can't even highlight all of the reasons why, during rush hour. Such is the reason that I leave my apartment @ 545am each and every day. In Charlotte, Pittsburgh, Erie, Philadelphia...I never would have dreamt of waking up more than three hours before I'm expected at the office. But here? It's a preemptive strike on my day, which has turned out to be one of the best maneuvers I've ever concocted. Here's why:

First of all, no one likes going to the gym. If you say you do, you're lying. I don't mind being AT the gym, and I love how I feel when I'm leaving. But dragging my ass there, no matter what time of day, is one of the worst feelings in the world. It's a trip racked with laziness and guilt, not to mention a defeatist attitude so severe that it makes me want nothing more than to reroute myself to my bed for a nice long nap. Getting to the gym blows. So-- what better way to go than still asleep?! I sleep in my sports bra and sweatpants...by bag is packed and waiting by my bedroom door. The only energy required is literally rolling into my shoes (set up directly below where my feet are bound to land anyway) and stumbling to the bathroom. Brush teeth, out door. By the time I realize what's happening I'm halfway to the subway and I can get a cup of coffee immediately --which makes me happier than most things in this world.

Reason numero dos for waking up before dawn, is that once I've made it to the filthy subway platform, the trains are already running on the rush-hour schedule (a new one every five minutes or so) but it's technically two hours until rush hour actually begins. I get a seat and it's smoothe sailing for the next half hour. By the time I get to work, I'm wide awake, my workout has been defeated, and my evening is freed up should anything fabulous present itself. Me-1, New York-0. The only downfall: my co-workers hate me prior to 10am.

Sometimes, however, there are forces at work over which you simply have no control. Weather, for example, is something that I never took seriously until I lived in the city.

There are 8million people on this island on any given weekday. This makes for INCREDIBLY crowded sidewalks. And walking, if you haven't noticed, is much like driving. Slower traffic tends to (or should, except that people are mostly stupid and incapable of mastering simple maneuvering techniques) remain on the right-- while the brisk walkers, myself included, pass on the left. But when it's pouring, and everyone's enormous, black GOLF UMBRELLAS are jabbing, feet into the air at eye-level ready to strike you at any moment...needless to say the sidewalk becomes a more dangerous place. This is only one of many elements the weather can dish out to screw up our days...but my vote is that it's the funniest. The last rain storm we had didn't manage to appropriately announce itself and found millions of unprepared New Yorkers without umbrellas or other necessary rain-gear. I walked into work, my khaki's soaked to the knee and my hair plastered to my face, makeup long-gone...only to find the men in much more dire straights. The lucky ones weren't wearing linen, but regardless, found themselves bare-foot with pants completely soaked, shirts stuck to their bodies, silk ties ruined and looking quite uncomfortable. That day...the bear got us all.

Well regardless...my love affair with this city continues. I can only imagine what the coming years have in store for us. For now, at least, you can keep yourselves updated on the journey. Thanks for checkin in!

More later...