First Big Snow

We're in the middle of our first big New York snow of the season as we speak! We've gotten a few inches so far and are supposed to get up to seven. Here are a few pictures from our adventures about the town (so far it seems that life pretty much carries on as usual, and people seem to actually know how to drive in it. There also seems to be plenty of milk and bread in supply, which in the south, for some reason, is the first thing to go as all the locals prepare to hunker down, even if snow is just forecasted and there doesn't end up being any.)


Sam in the snow.


Ellie playing with dog park friends in the snow.


Even trash looks pretty covered in snow.


I was picturing Ellie bounding through the snow with excitement, but her attitude was more one of a disillusioned teenager. You can almost see her giving me the proverbial eye roll.


Iphone self portrait.


Oh, and here's a mediocre shot of our apartment sized christmas tree.

Brooklyn v. Manhattan and other thoughts

When I tell people I live in New York they are always saying one of two things, "I could never live there! It's sooo crowded!" or "That's soo cool." I think when it comes to NYC many people's experience with this great city is often limited to a long weekend visiting the corner where they tape the Today show, Times Square, and lots of shopping and eating for good measure. Let me assure the aforementioned "I could never live there group" that the places you visited on your long weekend here are not the places where New Yorkers hang out. I could spend every weekend for the next year doing the same things you did on your vacation here (and having a great time), and it would be a vastly different experience than the things I do for fun as a quote unquote local. Namely, and let's get one thing straight, I live in Brooklyn, and specifically, Williamsburg, and my hood is not at all crowded. I do not bump into people on the sidewalk here. Sometimes I don't even see people on the sidewalk. And when I venture into Manhattan from time to time I, like you, feel the sudden rush of shoulders and coats and stroller wheels flapping past me as I try to keep up and not get run over or pushed in front of a cab while crossing the street.

Which brings me to the first big difference between Manhattan and Brooklyn: the crowds. "Why is it so crowded?" you may be asking yourself as you remember the lines you stood in for pizza or how you were almost mauled while boarding the ferry back on your 1998 Spring Break trip. Think about the town you grew up in and when you go back 10 or 15 years later how it seems that the town has spread out and grown arms full of newness for consumers to consume; places that used to be cow pastures are now malls, your favorite old restaruant has been bulldozed in lieu of a luxury condo highrise. You can still pass by undeveloped spots or spots you didn't even know existed that have become a location. Now Manhattan is an island and only eight square miles and ran out of undeveloped spots some time ago, so as the population grows there are only two solutions--to keep developing or gentrifying (read: becoming a place where a white person will move) out in the burroughs (the immediately surrounding areas of Queens, Brooklyn, etc.) or continuing to divide and dubdivide whatever space already exists (and it being an island they're not going to be buying undeveloped land any time soon) and deal with the crowds. It's hilarious how the space issues have played out over time: unlike a lot of the rest of the country, where people are on an upward spiral of obtaining more space as they get older complete with more yard, dog, and kids, when you go into Manhattan you see a completely different mindset altogether. Small dogs are de rigeur, our not-quite 40 pound border collie mix, which is an average size here in Brooklyn, would be like a huge dog to have in the city (although you do see them on occasion and think, where do they put that big dog? In the suburbs this dog would be a normal size and you would not wonder where the owners kept him). Having something like a car in Manhattan is definately a luxury, you pretty much have to pay for a parking garage to keep one there and those often runs upwards of four hundred smackers a month. Here in Brooklyn, we park our car a block away, next to the park. Sure we have to move it every few days for the Street Sweeper Man, but it's free, and still considered something of a luxury.

Manhattan is like the fancy party dress you paid too much for but couldn't live without that you only find a reason to pull out of the closet once a year (notice how I also tend to speak about Manhattan in run-on sentences.) Brooklyn is that vintage jacket jem you found (a steal!) that goes with everything. Manhattan is also kind of like one of those celebrities who's always in the tabloids and is really pretty but hasn't made a good movie in a really long time because she's too busy designing her new line of wool panties or some such thing. Brooklyn is like that actress whose name you can't remember but she was really good in like, three of your favorite movies and probably the reason you can't remember her is because she had so much range that you hardly knew she was the same person from movie to movie and she's never been in US Weekly. Here in Brooklyn small family businesses thrive and even the McDonald's down the street is cash only. You look out on the shore and the twinkling city lights of the big city. They call Brooklyn a horizontal city for that reason while Manhattan is a vertical city. When you're in there maneuvering through that labyrinth of skyscrapers (never so aptly named as here) you lose a sense of which direction you're going; there's no where to look but up. Which can be a wonderful thing, too, for a gal like me, as long as you can find your way back to the horizon every now and again.

Getting on my soapbox...

I try to keep this a New York experience-related blog, but something has been bothering me lately and I really just needed to get it off my chest. I was at a conference this week in Orlando with my mother-in-law, for this really amazing company called Nikken (which is a whole other blog all together...I have a whole new appreciation for the healing power of magnets!) and I got into this conversation with this older canadian lady (who was really quite adorable) about her son. She started talking about how he and his wife were getting to be in their late thirties and trying to decide about kids because they felt like they were "running out of time" to have them, and then she tells me that they PLANNED on (in the event she even gets pregnant) aborting the baby if they do testing and it has down syndrome. I was floored. Obviously people are not usually that candid about this kind of thing, and I may be opening up a really taboo subject here, and I will also say I'm not here to judge anyone or make any decisions for anyone. But having worked with kids with down syndrome for about six years, I have to tell anyone out there who hasn't had experience with these kids what a gift they are. God made all of us no matter what differences we may have, and I just find it incredibly sad and depressing to think about these special people not having a chance in the world based on people's misunderstandings of who they are. I wonder if many people who make the decision to abort have spent any time around anyone with down syndrome. I guess I think about all the things your child could have to deal with in life that are just as hard or harder than dealing with a down syndrome label--including all the parents out there dealing with kids with autism. I think about all the kids I have known with down syndrome who are loving and so playful and full of great joy and sometimes a bit stubborn. Having come from a special ed./research background, I have to tell you how far we've come with kids with special needs and how much the quality of their lives have improved even from 30 years ago. I have also known some incredibly high functioning people with down syndrome who have pretty broad vocabularies and social skills and ability to live on their own. The numbers are simply shocking these days. Up to 80% of these babies are being aborted by potential parents, which I just find unfathomable. The emphasis on the Palin family and their baby Trig has been portrayed interestingly in the media. At times the media seems to emphasize what a sacrifice they have made by choosing to have these special babies, like they are heroes. I can tell you how many parents of these special kids have told me that they (the parents) are the ones who have been blessed, to have these amazing people in their lives to be examples of love to them, and that it is their children who are the heroes. Obviously looking at the numbers there are a lot of people who don't get that, and I wish the Canadian lady's son had been there so I could talk to him about that.

5 Ways to Lose Money Fast in NYC

I have a pretty modest budget these days, but there are a few things in the city that I can't seem to get around paying for. Expenses that you don't think about but that tend to sneak up on you when you least expect it. Or, something you are expecting to be able to resist, but you find you have a certain weakness for. Dagnabbit!

One thing is LAST MINUTE CAR FEES. As much as I try to plan and a lot enough time to get from place to place, the train generally takes about twice as long as travelling above ground, and if I don't have enough time to get to an audition or anything of that realm, I have on a couple of occasions broken down and called a car service. While there are plenty of yellow taxis waiting to whisk you away to the destination of your choosing in Manhattan, in Brooklyn it's harder to find them and/or get them to stop, so most of the time you end up calling your local car service. Every neighborhood has its own group of car services, like the ones you call in Williamsburg are different than the ones you call in Park Slope or Crown Heights. Then they charge you, basically whatever they feel like. In my limited experience, the total either seems way under or way over the distance travelled, and additionally, I have this weakness for leaving sizable tips for all these jokers. It probably has something to do with currently doing work that involves tips and wanting to pay it forward, if you will.

Another weakness I have is for SUBWAY MUSICIANS. It's supposed to be illegal for people to get on the subway and beg for money, and a lot of times these people seem awfully well dressed to be needing my help, but come on with your accordion or your travelling puppet show, and it's like my kryptonite. I think it's because I identify with trying to be a paid artist in this crazy world. I know, I know. But you should see their faces light up when I give them all my spare change. I try to resist, but oh. If you saw the puppet show you wouldn't be able to either.

CONVENIENT SNACKS, and the like. You know how sometimes you're driving home and you think, man I'm hungry. Good thing I'll have my choice of food in a few minutes when I pull into my driveway. And you think about maybe pulling in to the grocery store on the way, but it's too much trouble to park and all that jazz so you just hold off. Well in this town they have little carts of nuts and delicacies around every corner, and you don't know how long you have to wait for your train that takes you back to your apartment, and the nuts are right there, yours for a few dollars. People here are opportunists. It's starts raining and all of the sudden there's a man on every corner selling umbrellas. And if you didn't bring your umbrella, and you're tired of getting wet, well, let's just say we've ended up with a few umbrellas that way.

THE SCARY PEOPLE TRYING TO SELL YOU PACKAGE HAIR SALON DEALS AT UNION SQUARE. The problem is they're not exactly scary. They're usually very charming. You try to shake your head and walk away like you do with all the other street merchants and street urchins, but these folks seem to have gone to a special school for persuading you to buy something you don't need. After a few minutes you think, man, this sounds great! $60 and I get all of these things from this hair salon I know nothing about! But they seem to have other jobs besides hocking hair packages on the street and this is just their after-my-day-job, job. And man, even though it seems ridiculous, it starts to seem like a good idea. And I have to tell you, the first two times I wriggled away (I'm meeting a friend! I'm really bald! Look over there!) but the third time this "actor" started talking to me and turning on the ole charm and well, I have two hair packages that need redeeming. I'll let you know if they turn out to be legit.

Lastly, ONLINE GROCERY SHOPPING AND FOOD DELIVERY. Beware of their charms. Something about ordering food from an online grocery store that delivers right to your apartment makes you feel like you'll pay anything, because who wants to lug 40 pounds of dog food up three flights of stairs? And when you're watching it add up on your computer it's almost like it's monopoly money, 'cause this isn't like any grocery store you've ever been to. (that's probably part of their whole scheme!) (shaking fists at the heavens). I have a similar weakness when ordering food from restaurants that deliver. It seems like everyone delivers here! And when you're ordering things off the menu over the phone, you start to think, well hey, they're bringing a main course, might as well bring me an appetizer and dessert too! And then before you know it, you hate yourself. So watch out for that.

An Entertainment Conundrum

Is it odd to anyone else that Beverly Hills Chihuahua was the number one movie in America a couple of weeks ago? I don't know if that's a sign of people being desperate for entertainment in these dark days or possibly just a sign that our time as a species is rapidly coming to a close. That movie pulled in $30 million in its opening weekend. I guess the folks out in Hollywood are desperate for family entertainment. I'm desperate to keep me, my wife and my unborn children from seeing movies like that for fear that we'll all claw our own eyes out and become some kind of sideshow act called "The Blind Williamsons".

Really what I'm concerned about lately is all the fuss over Zack and Miri Make a Porno. For anyone who doesn't know, this is the new Kevin Smith (Chasing Amy, Dogma) movie about two twenty something roommates who don't have the money to pay their bills so they decide to make an amateur porn flick. It stars Seth Rogen and Elizabeth Banks and is coming out on Halloween. There has been a pretty significant backlash against against this movie that isn't even out yet just because of the title and the content. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but it has some nudity. GASP!

Listen folks, we live in a world where kids line up around the block to go see the Saw movies. Because of this fact, Hollywood is pumping out one per Halloween. Thanks Hollywood. Where they didn't just make one Hostel movie, they made two! Where video games like Grand Theft Auto and Halo and Saints Row out sell feature films. What do all these things have in common Samwise? Well my friends, they are violent. Whether it's machine guns blazing, machete wielding or a power drill to the skull, these things are readily accessible to anyone who wants them. Now I'm not advocating pulling all this stuff out of the theaters and off the shelves but I see and hear a bunch of hypocrites out there hoisting their digital picket signs about a movie that is gonna have some footage of some male and female naughty bits.

Now anyone who knows better is free to correct me if I'm wrong but I didn't see a huge uproar over the Grindhouse films or the new GTA. Sure people whine and complain about these things for a while but rarely does anyone do enough to actually get them taken off the shelves or pull the tickets out of the hands of the teeny-boppers who mob the theaters to get in. You know what I think? I don't think people should do anything about it. You choose to go to the movies or buy video games.

Look if you don't want your kid playing this game or going to see that movie then don't let them. Perhaps you should do a little more research when Billy asks for Halo 3 for his 7th birthday and you walk in on him mowing down the Covenant with a pulse rifle and you poop your collective pants. Perhaps your kid shouldn't be playing so many video games. Perhaps you shouldn't take them to see Saw 5 because 12 year olds shouldn't see people getting fed to kitchen-aid mixers (thanks wedding gifts!) or dueling with nail guns and what not.

And why is violence okay but a couple seconds of schlong isn't? Spattering brains? Sure! Jiggling boobs? Hell no! We got bigger problems in the world people than Zack and Miri people. How about a failing economy, a healthcare crisis, and people losing their houses because they can't afford their mortgage payments? Turn off the tv, take your kids to somewhere green and serene and find a solution for some real problems. Or just stick to movies like Beverly Hills Chihuahua, I hear it's great.

PS - The new Ray LaMontagne album "Gossip in the Grain" just came out. Go buy it.

Bus v. Subway

I've decided that every weekend I'm going to write a "face-off" style blog where I compare two aspects of the city I've observed. In contrasting, I hope we all learn a bit more about our topic, and each other. Just kidding about the last part. Kind of.

As aforementioned in my previous post, I've been riding the bus all week. I learned a new set of mostly unwritten rules. In my opinion it's a bit easier to move through what you do as a new rider on the subway than as a new rider on the bus. On the subway, you have clearly marked stations and announcers tell you where you've stopped (sometimes they yell your location incoherently through the loudspeaker and you're scrambling to figure out where you are). On the bus, the only way you can figure out where you are is if you keep up with what streets you're passing, and that tends to take a lot of work. Of course, to more seasoned riders of both systems, you get to a point where there is a rhythm to where you're going--you know how long to wait and when to get up, like an timer going off when an egg is done boiling.

On the bus the riders are much more in contact with and at the mercy of the driver, even if they never speak to each other. One friend told me recently he was riding the bus and there was an annoying guy on the bus who kept yelling and generally making a ruckus. Eventually people on the bus started complaining, and chanting "Kick him off the bus, kick him off the bus," even the driver! And then when the driver had had enough fun with that, he did, in fact, kick him off. The subway by comparison almost seems like this underground organism that drives itself. You see people in little windows at the front that are supposedly operating the thing, but it mostly runs the same all the time, and lot of the announcements are pre-recorded. The subway operator can't see what's going on inside each car (that's why the people watching is so good!) The bus driver can also decide if he wants to reopen the doors for someone who has just missed the stop, or keep driving. From what I saw, drivers tended to do that more for women, children, and the elderly/handicapped. Another funny thing that bus drivers don't seem to mind is when people can't find their bus tickets. On the subway, if you don't have it, you can't swipe your way through, but on the bus there's more of a "ride now, pay later" sort of attitude. I watched one girl look for her card for about five minutes before she finally swiped it and sat down, and this whole time the bus driver is continuing along his route.

Similarly, passengers on the bus are supposed to "request a stop" by pushing a long piece of tape-covered wire located at various seats (it took me several days to figure out what people were pushing). Then in theory the driver can skip a stop if there is no one waiting and no one has requested to get off. It's very flexible. The subways routes are not flexible, except when they are doing repair work and choose to reroute one line to another. There are express trains in Manhattan that will skip several stops at a time to take you very quickly from one part of town to another, but you have to know which trains they are and where they stop ahead of time.

The bus runs on a schedule. You can see if you've missed one recently and when or if the next one is coming anytime soon. The subway comes whenever it wants. There are a couple of lines that have this nice announcer lady recording that tells you how much longer 'til the train arrives. But mostly you just sit and wait with no idea. Sometimes you feel like you've been waiting for a lifetime. The minutes tick by like hours. You learn to use context clues like how many people are waiting around you, how "regular" the line is and what time of day it is.

The preconceived notions I have about the bus and the subway are very different. Both are an adequate source of public transportation, but while everyone from wall street-ers to artists, blue collar workers and school children ride the subway, there is a narrower class of people riding the bus. I wonder why this is? There was a time in Nashville when I lived pretty close to work and thought about taking the bus. But when I suggested it to people the majority thought it was crazy, downright unsafe, and, I got the feeling, "below me." How did the bus get this sort of reputation but not the subway?

Finally, being underground, the subway is a world all its own. People are momentarily cut off from being able to use cell phones or internet. The temperature is often the opposite of what it is like outside. On the bus people still talk on phones and watch the world go on around them, interacting with pedestrians, cars, and traffic lights. There's nothing like that on the lines of the subway, and they say there are miles of unused tunnels here. You can almost picture this "subway organism" going off and exploring on it's own when all the passengers are home sleeping in their beds at night.

My First Bus Ride/Psychological Adventures with Hasids

So I am babysitting for this super awesome family this week, the mom is a makeup artist to models and the like. They live in Crown Heights, which is not very far geographically from our place in Williamsburg but I found out today is really hard to get to by train. I have not had to take more than two trains to get anywhere, but to get to their place (which is also in Brooklyn)--I had to take the L into Midtown Manhattan, tranfer to the Q which goes over the Manhattan Bridge and back out to Brooklyn, then transfer trains again in Brooklyn to get to their neighborhood. By the time I got there, I was ready for a nap. The dad, who works behind the scenes on Lipstick Jungle, suggested I take the bus back, as he frequently travels through Williamsburg himself for work. "It takes half the time," he insisted and showed me where to wait. It's very humbling to feel like you've got the subway thing down and the cab thing down, and then you get on the bus and there's an entirely different set of rules and you feel like a foreigner. I basically just took the bus north until the guy kicked me off, then tried to navigate my way back with the map I had with me. The last stop happened to be smack dab in the middle of the Hasidic Jewish neighborhood in Williamburg.

When you first start walking through their neighborhood, you feel like at any moment they all might burst into song and synchronized dancing in the streets, like Fiddler on the Roof. Literally everyone is dressed the same--the men in long jackets and big black hats, the women in long skirts and scarves around their head, and all men and even little boys have the signature curls down the sides of their face, which they do because it is against the rules of their religion to shave their sideburns. It's refreshing in a way to be a minority--I didn't see anyone else who "looked like me" for probably ten minutes--which is funny because as a white woman, I have never experienced being the only person like me on the street. Although, after the reality sunk in that no one was going to burst into song, I started to feel a bit self-conscious. I was wearing red pants and a fairly modest short sleeved shirt, but I noticed the women all wore long sleeved shirts and long skirts in dark colors (indeed, looking at customs of dress on wikipedia, it says they look down on people who wear red--whoops!) and I began to wonder as I passed groups of women if they were gossiping about me and my uncouth wardrobe choices (Judging from HasidicNews.com--"In general, the Hasidic attitude towards non-Jews is one of contempt and disinterest. Children, especially, are taught how 'bad' and sinful non-Jews" are--I would say they were, although we'll never know for sure since they were speaking Yiddish.) The children playing on the sidewalks were speaking Yiddish too! I saw a baby that was sitting out in some sort of cage-like covering over a 4th story window, with no adults around. It was really super strange.

After doing a little more research I found out the following info. on our Williams-
burg neighbors: "It seems that the Jews of South Williamsburg are a sect known as Satmars. They are Hungarian in origin, and the community began just after WWII, comprised mainly of newly-arrived Holocaust survivors. The sect stresses re-population of their decimated ranks... There are about 200,000 Satmar worldwide, and about a third of that number lives in this little area in South Williamsburg. Due to the high birthrate, this community doubles in size every decade." Every decade? The average family here has 7.9 children. That's a lot of babies!


With those stats, it's no surprise the Satmars also seem to have a strong penchant for minivans. And the women (who marry through arranged marriages)aren't allowed to drive, so you see caravans of minivans scooting down the street all being driven by men with long beards and dark hats. Except for the minivans and the occasional Hasid you see on their cell phone (although apparently they don't watch tv), you really feel like you've stepped through a time warp into the 1880's. How did such an old-fashioned group of folks who won't fraternize with outsiders end up creating this large and self-sustaining community that has lasted for generations in the middle of modern New York City?! I kept wondering what it must be like for them to go to another part of the city and see scantily clad women or other non-hasidic type things. Do they have pets? I didn't see any. Who do they vote for in elections, if they vote? Does anyone ever leave? How have they managed to be so xenophobic while sharing a zip code and subways with the Polish, Puerto Ricans, and well, white girls who wear red pants? I may have to do some more research and get back to you.

Best Day Ever.

Umm, today was the best New York day ever! Sometimes I like to pretend I am a celebrity with no bills or rent to pay, and today was the perfect day to practice this ridiculous fantasty. First, I have a teeny part on this tv show called "Life on Mars" tomorrow and I had a costume fitting today. Costume fittings are dreamy! I went to this Studio in Queens and they found outfits for me that look like 1973, and then I would come out in these circa 1973 dresses and the wardrobe team was all "You look amazing!" and "That dress looks like it was made for you!" I told them that I was going to start coming up to visit them every day just for the self-esteem boost.
Then, I went to a meeting for this startup magazine I am going to be helping out with. And the other people there were all, "Is this a pyramid scheme?" because we had all applied via Craig's List and supposedly made it to the "3rd stage" i.e. the personal interview/orientation, but this online mag may be the real deal. After hearing the owner talk about it, I am excited about upcoming projects. So be looking for some links to articles at an actual up-and-coming "e-zine" over the next couple of months!
Our amazing New York friend, who shall remain unnamed, was able to get us into this party for the opening of Tiger Woods new video game, the Tiger Woods PGA Tour '09! This place was like the best wedding matched with the best christmas and the biggest barmitzvah all rolled into one. We had "gold wristbands" which was apparently special, and Sam and I sipped on cocktails from the free open bar next to Tiger, who has really nice skin. Michael Phelps was supposedly there too, but we just missed him. There were all these video game stations and mounds of sushi and macadamia nuts, which I grabbed a handful of every time I walked by. And also the guy from Transformers was there, the one who is the computer expert who the Australian lady goes to for help, and he eats all the doughnuts and says, "I'm not going to jail for you!" All in all it was magic. And Sam and I each got a copy of the game (I'm still trying to figure out what to do with my copy since we obviously don't need two..)

New Slang

New Yorkers say awesome things and confusing things. There's just little differences that sometimes make me cock my head and give the "huh" face. I find myself fascinated by the tidbits of dialogue I've been picking up from all these Yanks up here. What's even more fascinating is when I find myself using those words without a second thought like some kind of linguistic chameleon. I figured I'd share a few of my favorites. Bearing in mind that I don't or can't use all of these phrasings, they're still quite rad. Yes I said rad.

1) "What's good?" - As far as I can gather, this is a variation of "What's up?". Sometimes used as a phone greeting, or to ask someone what's going on with something. It can be modified in several ways such as "What's really good?", "What's goody?" or my favorite "What's goodingtons?"

2) "On line" - New Yorkers don't stand "In Line" they stand "On line" apparently. I don't get it either. It makes it extra confusing when you are at Petco trying to buy a squeaky ball for your dog and you're texting your wife. You would classify yourself as "In Line". Then a gal comes up and says "Are you online?" You look at your phone and then wonder why this girl cares about that and you respond "Nope." Then she cuts in front of you and buys her dog food, leaving you to curse about how rude that was. (Later I realized, she meant to ask was I in line. Silly Yanks.)

3) Cross streets - It's no longer valid to just give an address. You have to give the cross streets when you're ordering late night sushi or trying to get a cabbie to get you somewhere. For example, Barrio Chino, a great little hole in the wall restaurant in the Lower East Side is at 253 Broome Street. But someone's gonna ask you what the cross streets are, and you gotta know that it's between Orchard and Ludlow.

4) Strunzo - I believe this is Italian. It means "Piece of shit". So when someone annoys you, you can affectionately refer to them as a "Strunzo" or you can mix it up and modify it. Like "Look what that Strunz did" or "This place is like Stunzylvania today."

5) Official Tissue - I don't know many people who use this one, but I think it's so ridiculous that I had to comment on it. From what I gather, it means "legit, cool, top-notch". Like "The new iPhone is official tissue, son." Or "My flatscreen LCD is official tissue."

6) Pal - If I've adopted any wordage since I've been up here, I've adopted "pal." I find "pal" to be the most hilarious adaptable word yet and I've taken full advantage of it. I never used to use Pal, I'd instead sub "dude, brother, friendo" but now, pal is it.

7) Scumbag - I'm glad this one resurfaced. I don't know that I've ever used "scumbag" before I got up here but it really fits the bill on occasion why you want to insult someone and don't feel like swearing. It also allows you to ration your use of strunzo.

That's all I've got for now. Hopefully next time I'll be full of more new and exciting words to share.

On Nannies.

New York mommies can be a strange breed (at least strange ie different or out of the norm of what I know in the South). Where Southern counterparts may spend their child-rearing days quitting their jobs to mommy full time 'til their nests someday empty, New York mommies often return to work full-time immediately, weeks after bringing new life into the world, and employing full-time help to do a great bulk of the child-rearing in their absence. We've all heard of the Nanny Diaries, the pseudo-autobiographical tale of a Nanny who looks after a wealthy family's children. What I didn't fully realize was how widespread this Nanny culture was in the city, not only in Manhattan but in other upwardly mobile burroughs like Brooklyn.

In certain neighborhoods you can walk down the street and nearly every stroller you pass is being pushed by a nanny. A southern transplant I know here who recently had a baby told me she has women coming up to her at least once a week offering their full-time nanny services, and asking her, "Why don't you have a nanny?" (her baby is 8 weeks old). Her husband's coworkers want to know why they don't have help and were astonished when he took time off after the baby was born. Not only are nannies a normal thing here, but they feel the same way about people not having nannies as many southerners probably feel about having them! Some have explained that these New York mommies really feel that going back to work full-time is the best thing for their child, because in the long term it offers them more opportunities and benefits monetarily.

On the one hand I can see the logic of that argument but I have to tell you, having daily contact with a variety of nannies around the city, I find some of the trends in the hiring of these nanny populations to be very curious. Now, some elite families are adamant about their child being bi or tri-lingual, so you see a lot of hispanic, chinese, and caribbean style nannies (although I'm not sure what language the caribbean nannies are imparting on their children--some variety of patois, perhaps?) This is all good and well, but having spent six or so years working on behavior and language with language-delayed and autistic children (the same principles apply for typically developing children) I have to wonder what other skills these children may be missing out on. For example, the other day I was watching a child, and a nanny was standing nearby me. The child I was watching took a swing at the nanny's kid and grazed him upside the head. The child began to cry and the nanny (who had been chatting on her cell phone, a popular pastime of nanny's while children are off playing with very minimal supervision) came and scooped up her kid and said, "the next time a kid hits you, you hit them right back!" Great advice, lady! Granted this child was very young and not yet talking in complete sentences. Still, it took everything I had not to go up to this nanny and ask her what in the $%^& she thought she was doing.

You can go round and round about it: if you're going to hire someone to essentially raise your young child and be one of the main examples the child has for how to behave and speak, and if you are really in a position to pay someone to help you full-time, why not hire someone with a college education or higher degree? I mean if you're going to spend the money on something wouldn't you want it to be your child? I may be making generalizations here but it would seem an educated person is more likely to have read or be willing to read up on parenting strategies (which is a lot of what nannying is) and know the importance of one-on-one playtime, and less likely to tell your kid, "when a kid hits you, hit them back" while talking on their cell phone. But all this hiring out of childcare to other parties who seem minimally interested in your child's development (which would be at the top of my list when and if I was ever in the position to hire such a person) begs the question: if no one has the time or inclination, then why are you having children at all?! Does anyone have any insight into this? Is it to carry on the Van der blah blah family name or because you don't fully realize how critical the first few years of life are to development or what?

On a somewhat unrelated sidenote, I applied to a handful of Nanny agencies when I first got to the city. Now I'm not saying I'm the cat's meow or anything, but I can take care of some children. Although, I'm not fluent in Spanish. And to this day I have yet to receive a reply from any of the agencies I submitted to. Am I overqualified or do I lack the right qualifications? I guess it depends on where you live.

Not Your Average Dog-Walking Day

I have found that since moving to the big city, even the most dull days seem exciting to people, like walking the dog: "You're walking the dog--in New York! AWESOME!" And I suppose, in a way, they're right. Walking the dog through the streets of New York does offer one different sights and sounds than letting a dog out in your backyard. But, it's still walking the dog. There are some days though, every now and then, that feel like honest-to-goodness "New York Days", filled with real adventure. Yesterday was the first, full "New York Day" I have had since arriving a month ago.

I started the morning out trying to get to a train I had never been to before and treking through a Puerto Rican neighborhood where I was on the receiving end of several men shouting "Have a nice day at the beach!" (I was wearing a bathing suit top under my shirt, I will explain later) or "Gorgeous!" or "Hi there!" or the like. I haven't found the appropriate response to these men. I've heard stories of local women responding with angry gestures or exclamations, and really what are these men trying to accomplish? Have they ever had a women start talking with them as a result of one of their cat calls? I usually just smile and start walking faster. It's really awkward when they're standing there and you don't respond and then they keep eyeing you all the way down the block. The really persistent ones will plead with you to stop, "let me take your picture" etc. Anyway I digress. I was late getting to the train and so late meeting Jessamine for brunch in the East Village.

I arrived at the Flea Market Cafe and dined on Caramelized Apple Pancake while wondering what Jessamine had up her sleeve. We have been friends since high school and she moved up here right after college so she knows about all the cool New York secret stuff. All she had told me was to meet her at this cafe and bring my bathing suit. I imagined her taking me to a rarely-visited gem of a public pool in the basement of a museum, or whisking me to a labyrinthine system of sprinklers in the corner of a forgotten park. I had seen a family who had gotten off the train at the same time as me wearing bathing suits, and I thought, could there be some sort of indoor water park I didn't know about? I was intrigued.

After brunch we walked around, and did some casual brousing in an antique store, and then, out of nowhere, Jessamine stops on the sidewalk and says, "Do you know where we're going?" "I have no idea!" I said. I love surprises but am rarely surprised in my normal dog-walking life so this guessing and maybe not even getting close was fantastic. She points up to reveal a sign that reads: "Turkish and Russian Baths". Jess explains, "I've been wanting to go here forever, and now I've tricked you to come with me! There might be naked men inside!" I was simultaneously mortified at the thought of large sweaty naked men and further intrigued by this mysterious locale. "Great!" I said. We ran inside.

The place, was, in fact, authentically Russian. Think the sauna in Eastern Promises without the knife fights. We put our "valuables" in a safe deposit box and then were given another set of keys for our "locker" from a man who spoke with a Russian accent and seemed to be a fan of gold jewelry. In the locker room we put on our suits and shorts and flip flops and I noticed a sign that read, "On co-ed days you must wear shorts, if you don't you must leave." We went downstairs to the "baths". There were six different rooms to try, each one was hot and offered a different experience. The redwood room smelled of pine and offered a crisp, dry heat, while the aromatherapy room spat out hot smelly steam which stung your nostrils when you breathed. After sitting in one for a few minutes (there were also signs outside each room that said "Sitting in this room for more than 30 minutes can be seriously harmful to your health") you walk out to a small pool and plunge yourself for as long as you can stand it--the water is absolutely freezing. The effect is supposedly cleansing, relieving your body of toxins, and after getting out of the freezing pool you do feel quite refreshed, though wading through it is so cold it's mildly torturous.

The strangest room was called the Russian room. Here the look was reminiscent of a prison from medieval times. There were stone walls and wooden benches to sit on. In the middle of the room there was a well-looking structure with buckets. People would go over, dip the buckets in the well, and pour cold water over their heads when the heat became too oppressive. (And indeed this one was the hardest to sit in, it took labored effort to even move over to the buckets). Another funny thing, the place offered "spa treatments," and the five or so people trying to hock the treatments would come in and ask you every few minutes if you wanted a mud bath or an oak leaf massage, more in the style of street vendors trying to sell you a rolex than spa employees, and each time more earnest than the next. In the corner of the Russian room one of the street vendor guys was giving a man the oak leaf massage, which consists of him thrashing your back with a large clump of oak leaves. It looked terrible. After it was over street vendor guy literally had to drag the red-faced man out of the Russian room. Then he gave him some sort of pep talk and patted his cheeks and left the man sitting there, looking half-dead. If anyone ever offers you an oak leaf massage, I would think twice about it if I were you. I'm just saying.

The clientelle was actually a lot of young people, and a lot of women. They were also shooting some sort of "independent movie" while we were there and there were these "actresses" running around with scripts while a cameraman and a light man followed them, dragging cords through the standing water all over the floor. Fearing electrocution, we retreated to the sundeck to dry out, and left feeling 10 pounds lighter, like we'd just done three hours of hot yoga. And I was very happy not to have seen any large naked men.

Jessamine and I parted ways on the subway and I headed to a babysitting job near the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Their apartment literally overlooks a field of trees and in the spring, Cherry Blossoms. The mom was a really cool single mom who gave me guest passes to venture over to the Botanical Gardens with her son, Quill (Quill? I don't know, either) while I was gone. She warned me he had barely slept the night before and didn't know what was keeping him up. After she left, the little guy (he's 2) pleaded with me, "Outside, outside!" so we schlepped his stroller downstairs and across the street. Literally two seconds after I put him in the stroller he fell fast asleep. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon and not the best time for a nap, but we were already inside the Botanical Gardens and I didn't want to turn around. The place was fantastic. For Nashvillians or those who went to my wedding it is a lot like Cheekwood, but maybe a tad bigger. There was a wedding going on though I have to say, Cheekwood has them beat in the event space department. It was super peaceful and beautiful there and you might forget you're in the city while sitting by the fountains and listening to the jazz music that was coming from the Brooklyn Museum, next door. The kid slept the whole time and I felt transported to another place in time.

After babysitting I met up with Sam, Tony, and Teri for a concert in Brooklyn. The concert didn't start 'til midnight so we hung out for a while, then found a good spot for the show. The band is called Apes and Androids and they have a Killers meets Journey meets Queen kind of sound. The show was a lot of confetti being dropped from the ceiling, and lights shining so bright in your face that you have to close your eyes and move your head back and forth--a kind of forced dancing. Other highlights included a glow-in-the-dark segment where they threw glowsticks and inflatable balls with glowsticks into the crowd and everyone was spinning and throwing these glowing things. It was what I pictured a rave to be like, if I had ever been to one.
They also had this tribe of glowing people come out in masks and island wear and spears and carrying a woman attached to a stick up on stage. Then they all did a funky dance in their glowy masks. It was pretty funky.

We ate a late night snack at Anytime Cafe down the street, and a lot of people from the Apes and Androids show were there too, still wearing their glowsticks. They played Queen (an odd coincidence) and everyone sang along loudly to the lyrics while munching on their cheesesticks and tater tots.

My feet are sore and swolen today from all of yesterdays travels, but my mind is racing with thoughts of cherry blossoms, glowing dancers, and new possibilities.

Subway Magic

It's official: I am totally in love with the New York Subway System. Firstly, I am beside myself to get a break from driving, paying for gas and car expenses, etc. etc. $80 a month for unlimited rides all the time sounds like the deal of the century from where I'm sitting. While other locals pass the time on the train listening to their favorite new tunes on their ipods (in fact I have been shocked with the diverse population of avid ipod users, from blue collar workers to elementary schoolers) or immersing themselves in a book or magazine, I pass the time by watching them. Not in a scary stalker way (I hope) I just see stories all around and I don't want to miss any of them (plus I have found on the occasion or two that I have started some reading I have ended up missing my stop).

When my mom was in town a couple of men trudged onto the subway, one fairly well dressed sort of dragging the other pretty bedraggled looking one along. The bedraggled one, we'll call him Paulo, was just barely hanging on, and he seemed to have a really sad look on his face. The spiffier one, we'll call Jefe, kept trying to reassure him and looked up a couple of times and just kind of smiled and shrugged over the state of his friend. I became dismayed because Paulo was sort of swaying right over my mom's infamous curly hair and I was convinced for several minutes that he was going to wretch all over her. He eventually grabbed on to another handle on the other side of the car, his friend (or lover?) all the while trying to console him. Mom and I both studied him the better part of the ride and neither one of us could figure out if something utterly horrible had just happened to him or if he had had one (or seven) too many. I invented the story that they had been at a dinner party, and while they were there he had gotten a call that his favorite grandmother was deathly ill in the hospital and probably wouldn't recover. Mom thought maybe Jefe had just broken up with Paulo, or at least someone had just broken his heart mightily. Sigh. I guess we will never know the truth.

Another thing worth mentioning (I'm just getting warmed up) are the wonderful art installations. I had no idea how many glorious creations they had been putting up in stations around the city for the past 23 years (the city started a program in 1985 to help fund these artists endeavors and have been slowly adding more every year)! I have literally stopped in my tracks upon rounding the corner and "discovering" (at least it feels as if you are) some of them. One of the first ones I saw is two stops up from us in Williamburg. The title of the series is "Signs of Life" by Jackie Chang.



Another one that I see a lot is the "Life Underground" series by Tom O'Herness. These are scattered all throughout the Union Square/14th St. stop on the L line, which is the train that takes us from Williamsburg to Manhattan. I can't say that these are my favorite, there's something about them that are a bit perverse. Some of the women creatures look topless to me and others look like they're up to no good. Sort of like lemmings. But metal.



Am I wrong? Do they not seem a bit nefarious?
One of the ones that impressed me most is at the Bryant Park stop, literally right beneath Bryant Park (for those of you who are familiar with Project Runway, I was amused to walk through one day, and the park was bursting with people, and also a huge group of business people, still in the work clothes, doing yoga together on the lawn)...Anyway this installation is so expansive, you have to take several long hallways to get to your train and the mosaic just keeps going and going, these pictures really do not do it justice.


Artist Sam Kunce aptly titled it "Under Bryant Park."
The most surprising one I've seen so far is at the Penn Station stop, only because it is so not what you would expect to find around the subway (if one were to have an expectation about subway art in the first place). It's called "Garden of Circus Delights" by Eric Fishl. Again the pictures do not really do justice to the detail and color that hits you in several different spots.


You really just need to come up and visit and see for yourself.

Our Apartment (part 1)

A lot of you have been asking to see pictures of the new apartment. We still don't have a couch, which makes for interesting evenings when we try to lounge, and we're missing a special something for Sam's 5,000 dvds, but I'll go ahead and post some pics of the rooms a few days after we moved in and the ones that are more finished. Let's start the virtual tour, shall we?


ENTRYWAY

When you first walk in you have this lovely mudroom/hallway area. The big yellow thing you see is the Air Bazooka I gave Sam for his bday--it can blow a blast of air at your face from up to 50 feet away! I know! Also this is where we keep our games, bathing suits, coats, hats, and I created some drawers under the shoe shelf for Ellie's stuff and extra utility stuff. The rug is made out of recycled bicycle tires and the chair is straight off the set of that show Cashmere Mafia. Our friend Alison worked on it and they gave away everything after the show was cancelled. So we have quite a few Cashmere Mafia pieces at the moment. :)

BATHROOM

To the right of the Entryway is our lovely Bathroom. My favorite decorative touch is the bathmat shaped like a frying egg! Ah man, who doesn't love that. You can't see very well but all of Sam's music prints that I gave him are in here, as well as a few of his favorite action figures. Let's go take a peak at the kitchen! Come on!


KITCHEN
Some of you know about my dream of having a kitchen like Amelie's (from the movie) and it is really coming together now that I have space to put everything and no bugs taking up residence in all my appliances! The kitchen is about 3 times the size of our old kitchen. That's because we live in Brooklyn. What you don't see here is the set of table and chairs we scored from the previous rentee, in the lower right hand corner, which I will include in the next installment after I hang my plate arrangement on that wall.

Here's also a very scary picture of our kitchen the weekend we moved in:



BEDROOM
So the day after we moved in the Landlord, a younger guy who is Polish, came with some paint samples and told us to pick out a color. He also added, "Either you paint, or we paint for you." Sam and I looked at each other--free Paint job? sweet! So he brings this other Polish guy who speaks no English to help paint and when they are finished, we notice they have also painted all of the molding around the doors and windows. I have never seen that approach before.

You can see our view of the neighboring buildings, and there in the window are some plants and I am trying to grow a pine tree. Oh, and that's the quilt me mum just made me out of all the dresses she has made me growing up--including pieces from the bridesmaid dresses she just made.


That shelf is a real pain to hang. Sam's contribution was the clone troopers placed on the top middle shelves. On the wall to the left of the shelf are my grandmother and sam's grandfather, and on the right, sam's maternal grandmother with her family and my maternal grandfather. You'll also notice the fan, which we keep going at all times. Central a/c, man. Thank your lucky stars for your central a/c. Those were the days...

TERRACE

We have this bangin terrace that's almost like another room. I haven't seen any other balconies like this anywhere in Manhattan or Brooklyn. Usually if there are balconies on a building they are teeny tiny, like only enough room for you to walk out and wave at pedestrians while standing. Anyhoo, it's a nice space.


Here's another view of our street. They are building a schmancy overpriced new building next door (we hopped the roof and snuck a peak--very small bedrooms and small everything for high prices) so the jackhammering and roadwork is impeding our enjoyment of the nabe a bit, but it should be nice when it's finished in a month or so. In the distance on the right corner is a laundromat/cafe (you can also drop your laundry there and they will do it for you), past that is the street we take up a block to the park/dog run, and past that another bodega that boasts a great ice cream selection and mysterious meats.

Stay tuned in a couple of weeks for part 2--Living Room/Office! Bye for now!

City Living 101 (a few things that happen here you don't see anywhere else)

1) A corner store or convenience store, here in the city is called a "Bodega" no matter who owns it or the quality of goods. I have found that most stores I have been
in, even if they look kind of shady, carry a wide variety of organic and vegetarian options. This is true of restaurants as well. It's interesting to me in a city where it seems like it would be more difficult to traffic goods in and out, the concern for organics and vegetarian options is still so high. I guess it has something to do with there not being a ton of regular grocery stores around, and so these "bodegas" help bridge the gap between your run-of-the mill MAPCO and your Kroger or Harris Teeter.

2)People make out in the street here like it's no big deal!
You never see this in the suburbs. But three times since I've arrived (that's more than once a week on average) I've stumbled upon couples unashamedly and unabashedly making out knowing full well people are watching. One girl we saw in Central park was even sitting spread eagle in this guys lap (Sam insisted they were European but I don't know...) And it's not like they were in some shadowy corner and you 'caught' them. I think I've discovered some new breed of couple that enjoys or is so oblivious to the world around them that they continue behaving like they are in the privacy of their own bedroom. I wonder if people with this kind of personality are drawn to the city or if the city makes you that way.

3)Trannies. Fierce Trannies.

4)Forget Craig's List--in our neighborhood you just put something on the curb and put a sign on it that says "free" and it's gone within 24 hours. The first time I witnessed somebody doing this I thought it was crazy! But I've seen it happen on three different occasions now (this actually may not be true in every city neighborhood, so you just gotta use your best judgment). Last night I actually put a bag of stuff on the curb in a gift bag with winnie the pooh on it--I had thought of taking it to goodwill, but then I remembered what I had seen before and gave it a try. Sure enough it was gone this morning. On my way back from walking the dog, I passed a man on the sidewalk carrying the same bag. I found this hilarious.

Just Your Typical Wednesday Morning Police Chase

God I love New York. I'm here for five days and I feel like I'm on an episode of NYPD Blue. So I'm walking to work Wednesday morning, just minding my business, bopping through the Union Square Subway Station on my way to catch the 6 Uptown (see how cool I sound already?). And everyone's pretty much doing the same thing, listening to their iPods, drinking iced lattes and what not and all the sudden I see a blur of motion go past me.

Now mind you this is a pretty normal thing. I think to myself, "That guy REALLY needs to get to his train..." He's bombin'-ass down the stairs towards the platform like it's nobody's business and people aren't really thinking anything of it. Literally like 9 seconds later, a GANG of New Yorks Finest go barrelling past. I'm talking like a half dozen cops in uniform and another easy half dozen in plain-clothes. These guys are yelling "Get out the way!" "NYPD" "EVERYONE MOVE" and that sort of thing. I'm totally waiting for the camera crew to go hustling past. So the cops follow this dude down the stairs and the guy is ahead of them by a bit. I wasn't ready for what happened next.

This crazy son-of-a-bee JUMPS off the platform INTO the subway tunnel and goes haulin' biscuits up the track. Mind you, he's running towards the direction the GIANT subway train will be coming from. Not that the train is coming. The cops are all yelling and talking into radios and they start JUMPING into the tunnel as well. I don't know what happened to the guy, don't know what he did, don't know if he got away. The trains were running slow, a bunch of New Yorkers were real pissed off about it, yet everyone basically seemed to go about their business. This was perhaps the craziest thing I've seen in quite some time.

To be fair, I recounted this story to some friends of mine who've been up here about a year now and they all admitted they hadn't seen ANYTHING close to that nuts since they've been up here. So I feel special and that regard. Like I really got to witness something crazy and delightful.

So then New York, I know we don't know eachother that well yet, but I think I'm already starting to fall in love with you. You crazy broad...

Start Spreading the News...

Well, we made it. We're here in New York and almost out of boxes. The journey to our new Brooklyn home took a week from start to finish, including a wonderful stay with Sam's family in Lexington. Here are a few scenes from our 16 hour road trip North:

TENNESSEE

















In Nash right before we pulled out of the parking lot at our old apartment.

KENTUCKY

We nestled Ellie's dog bed in between our seats. When we first started out, she was a little uneasy about the whole thing and kept resting one paw on Sam's leg for reassurance.

WEST VIRGINIA

What's the deal with West Virginia? All I really know about this state is that scary movie Deliverance takes place there and the Dancing Outlaw is from there. And a lot of people we saw were missing teeth. I also learned there are a lot of bridges. Like this one.


We made a wrong turn and wound up driving past the capitol. It seemed so out of place, this guilded building on a hill in a state renowned for it's poverty. Right after this we stopped and bought our first full tank of gas, for $140 people! This man getting gas next to us watched us fill up and was like, "How much was it?" He felt bad for us. On a related note, see Who Killed the Electric Car and you will be even more outraged about the gas crisis.

I really wanted to stop for dinner at Biscuit World, but when I mentioned it to Sam he said, "it's not any good," without batting an eyelash. Apparently Biscuit World is a West Virginia chain and he'd stopped at one on a ski trip once. He said the biscuits were terrible.

MARYLAND
It was dark. I was hoping to see a crab cake. I didn't see that or much of anything. Maybe next time.

PENNSYLVANIA

We were trying to get to New Jersey but we hit Hershey, PA around 2AM and delirium had set it. I was excited about Hershey though. I like chocolate. I was hoping to see a giant chocolate bar with maybe a man inside waving to us as we pulled in at the Comfort Inn but we didn't see any chocolate whatsoever. We did sneak Ellie into our room and all night she was barking at the slightest noise and we were shushing her. We didn't sleep so well. The next morning as we were gassing up I saw a frightful number of dead bugs on the front of the Uhaul.



NEW JERSEY
The home of Springsteen. By the time we got to Jersey we were getting really antsy. Sam had scheduled our movers to meet us at our place around 12:30. He called around 11:00 and asked if we could push it back to 1:30. They said no. So, we were basically racing to get there, cause you have to pay them whether you show up with the stuff on time or not. My heart leapt with excitement when I saw the first sign for the city!

New Jersey also has a lot of tolls cause they're cheap bleep bleeps. We paid one and right before we got up to the Holland Tunnel we rounded a bend and there was the Manhattan skyline! I almost cried with joy! I took another pic 'cause I thought our journey was almost over:

But then we got up to the Holland Tunnel toll booth and the guy was like "You're not taking that UHaul through there?" And we were like "Yeah?" And he was like, "Nope. No trucks in the tunnel." So then, I almost cried from desperation when we had to turn around, go back through Jersey, and drive through several more tolls. Around the sixth or seventh one (I lost track) we ran out of cash and they don't take cards and we basically begged the lady to let us through. She said something about charging the fee to UHaul and we were like, "do what you gotta do," and she let us pass.

NEW YORK
We ended up getting off the Insterstate way too soon 'cause we saw a sign for another tunnel and thought be might get stuck. Our mapquest directions had, of course, gone out the window when the mean man made us turn around, so with much difficulty we navigated the outlying neighborhoods, past the hasidic jews, and to our new home in Williamsburg. There we met the movers, who had been waiting on us for two hours.

Postscript: The movers felt bad about screwing us over so we actually managed to unload everything off the truck in an hour (that was all the time we had left), which was quite a feat considering it took close to seven to get it loaded. The movers were from Georgia (the country, not the state) and if they caught me carrying any box over 5 pounds they'd be all, "don't carry that heavy thing, here carry this pillow." So if you're looking to go with international movers I recommend the Georgians.