Monday May 15, 2006

So. I arrived in NYC yesterday…a cold wet Monday with my whole life neatly packed into two suitcases. If only it were that easy. I had left on the 14th...Mother's Day...even though I have no children it was my Mother's Day because I was putting myself first...for once. The plane ride was fast—despite the five hour long conversation the two girls next to me insisted on having about the “OC.” Did you know Rachael Blison named her dog Penny Lane and that her boyfriend Andrew Brody bought it for her and did you know that Andrew is her boyfriend in real life??? OMG!!!!! I didn’t either. The trip from JFK to my sublet in Manhattan took 4.5 hours. YES 4.5 hours. Let’s just say that construction, NYC traffic, pouring rain, and a driver asking to see MY map DON’T MIX. He also told me I was lucky I was just visiting NYC. ummm NO I am actually moving here. He then turned around, looked me straight in the eyes and said quietly, "Good Luck." I did not respond. After picking up my sublet keys from a neighbor that was having her own complicated day I had the joyous task of getting my two suitcases, one backpack and a laptop from the bottom of the stairwell to the top. After lugging my crap up three flights of stairs I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is not the right stairwell. Damn. I then had the joyous task of re-lugging my crap down and then up the right stairwell. When I finally got to my new “home” everything seemed pretty clean and in order--I noted the gorgous purple bedroom curtains before passing out on my bed. When I woke a few hours later I decided a shower would be great. What I failed to see when I first got there was the black grimy tub and moldy shower curtain. Ummmm. My roommate seems to be a slob. I then carefully took a shower thinking how much nicer the shower that was never cleaned at that nasty hostel I stayed at last time I was here—y’know the one that hosted 100’s of travelers a day seemed. GROSS. Don’t get me started on the kitchen. Smelly piles of food and condiments are what comprise the inside of that refrigerator. Ummm. Maybe I’ll just eat out these next few months. My friend called me later, the one I am subletting her room from—to make sure I got there ok. I mentioned the bathroom, and she profusely apologized. My friend is pretty clean so I assumed it was the roommate from the beginning. But still. ewww. I picked up dinner at a local Chinese food place. I loved that the first words barked out of the guy behind the counter’s mouth were, “What? What do you want?” ummmm. Food? As I sat down in my new sublet apartment with beautiful bedroom curtains and moldly shower curtains I thought about this California girl's new adventure in NYC. Did I make the right choice? Am I running away from my past? I decided not to think about that and instead ponder on the days when perky food servers asked me politely, “Hi! How may I help you?”