very simple

Yesterday, I had to go visit a client at their offices in pennsylvania. That part was fine (in fact, it was nice to see a bunch of folks I hadn’t seen in a while). The “fun” part was the drive there and back.

After getting to the rental car place at the very reasonable hour of 6:45 in the morning (!) and getting my car, I discover that it doesn’t have the GPS I requested. So then I had to wait for them to find me another car that did have GPS and swap them out for me. Then it took me over 45 minutes to get to the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel (according to my GPS, I had traveled a total of 5 miles). This was only really annoying because it meant that the poor associate who had flown in from california would be sitting waiting for me in the hotel lobby in allentown. But other than that, the drive was generally OK.

The way back however…about an hour into my trip back, the skies opened up and the most horrendous torrential downpour, complete with giant lightning strikes that looked like they were going to hit my car, started. Needless to say, it took me 3 hours to do the 90 mile drive.

And then, after I finally returned the rental car and got myself home and dried off?

I realized that I had left my cellphone sitting in the car.

Going back out in the rain might have been the most fun part of the day. Luckily, the Hertz manager had found it and put it in the safe until I came back. He was very funny – pointed out that he was going to try to call me to let me know, but then realized that he had my phone, so he just had to hope I’d realize it and come back.

This weekend was one of the most beautiful weekends in recent history. Warm, not humid, and absolutely begging people to be outside. On Saturday, I spent the day with my friends and their 9-month old, and we went wandering around Central Park for a good portion of the afternoon…

And people wonder why I always want to hang out in the city. For all I complain, nothing beats this sort of energy.

Sometimes it’s amazing to me that this city doesn’t just collapse in on itself. Packed like a sardine on the M7 bus this morning, due to the fact that about 8,000 extra people were trying to get on the bus at my stop alone thanks to the flooded subways, I remarked to someone that this city is like a giant house of cards – anything goes wrong and it’s like the entire place comes to a grinding halt. Of course, then I said that I still wouldn’t live anywhere else, and they all smiled and laughed and generally agreed with me.

So, my morning.

Woke up at 5:30am for no apparent reason (I realize now that it was probably due to the thunderstorm outside). Dozed until about 6:30, when I got up to go to the gym to meet my personal trainer, with whom I had a 7am appointment. Trekked 5 blocks through a torrential downpour to Reebok, worked out for an hour (even the over-air conditioned gym was a bit humid), and then went home. Noticed on the way home that there were about 100 people at my normal bus stop at 8am, which seemed a bit unusual.

Got ready for work, and then went to catch the bus at a little after 9. Again, there was an unusually large number of people at the stop, and someone explained that the subways weren’t running, or were only running on a very limited basis, so they were directing everyone to take the bus instead. Six buses went by, too crowded to even attempt to get on. Bus number 7 had a sign indicating that it was only going to 42nd street, so I thought this was my best bet. Squeezed myself on, although the guy behind me almost got his arm amputated by the closing bus doors. Make a few stops, people squeeze on an off the bus, and then…

Then we get to Columbus Circle, where every subway train that was running at all had decided to terminate (the elevation is lower the further downtown you go, so there was probably more flooding below 59th street). There are hundreds of people standing there, to the point where everyone at the front of the bus, and the driver, start laughing at the improbability of any one of the people actually getting on the bus. In the meantime, there are a few trapped poor souls who actually need to get off the bus at this point. So, the doors open to let them off, and before they even have a chance, the bus is rushed by crazed people, including one woman who forces her way on, pushing the rest of us into immovable objects like metal bars, and then tries to say that she’s trying to help the people getting off the bus by moving further back! Never mind that she was essentially the cork that stopped the entire flow of people moving.

At this point, I realize, of course, that none of these people are bus people, they’re all subway people, so none of them bother to read the front of the bus. So I helpfully start announcing that the bus is only going to 42nd street, and if people want to go further south, they should wait for a different bus. At which point this woman starts freaking out that she’s on the wrong bus and pushed her way back off.

People actually applauded me. The driver was laughing, and we all had a nice collective bonding experience over the sheer ineptitude of our fellow new yorkers.

Just another day in the big city…

By the way, it took me an hour to get the one mile from home to work.

I’m inordinately happy to be going home in two and a half weeks, what with the missing my family and apartment (and spending my birthday all alone yesterday) and finding out that one of my best friends is pregnant and having to travel to two separate weddings (on in montauk and one in florida) within a few weeks of arriving home, but there are certain days when I’m really happy not to be in New York.

Winter Storm Moves to East Coast.

Yeah. Did I mention that it’s been in the 50s all week here?

Oh, and to be fair about the birthday thing, we are having a fairly big office party tomorrow night. Not for my birthday in particular but…just because. So there will be drinking. and other festive things. Mostly drinking. My former office-mate is also moving to New York for six months on Sunday, so that may have been part of the impetus for this one.

It’s too damn hot outside. It finally seemed to cool off a bit last night after a freak thunderstorm that came through the region (on the radio at about 4:30 yesterday afternoon, we had a "wind and hail" warning. Hail! in July!), and went down to the 70s. But today, it was in the 90s again. Which is nothing compared, to say, the southwest right now, but it still makes it really difficult to get anything done.

I’ve finished my first week of Italian classes, and I’m certainly starting to get the hang of it. I certainly won’t be fluent by the end, but I think that after four more weeks, I’ll definitely be functional. Now I just need to square away the rest of the aspects of this trip (there’s nothing quite like the bureaucratic black hole that is non-attorney staff at a law firm). I still don’t have a departure date, a visa, a place to live…you know, the essentials. But I can’t stress about it, because it’s not like I can go apartment hunting in Milan.

I should, however, start making a list of all of the stuff that I’m going to need to bring, arrange, etc. I’ll definitely need to forward my mail, stop my paper, turn off the cable, and do a whole bunch of other stuff that I haven’t even thought of yet. Oh, and clearly I need to go shopping (not that I ever need an excuse for that!).

I think my anxiety about this trip is manifesting itself in other ways though. For instance, today, I rearranged my hall closet so that it was roomier and more organized. Last weekend I replaced the toilet seat and handle on my toilet (they had previously been completely functional but boring white plastic), with a retro black seat to match the bathroom and a shiny chrome handle that (sort of) matches the rest of my bathroom fixtures. Oh, and I also spend last Saturday trying to figure out a better spot for my bicycle. After I took it out for a ride, I realized that the spot that I had it in made it really inconvenient to use frequently. Particularly since the prior setup required taking the front tire off so that it didn’t block a doorway. It’s basically in the same spot, but turned around and it seems to work. This was after significant trial and error, and the realization that the only way the bike was ever going to fit in the foyer would be if I mounted it on the ceiling. Damn you, doors that allow me to move from room to room.

Oh, and I finally called the reupholster to come and pick up my ottoman and chair. I only bought the fabric about 8 months ago!! It had become so bad that every time I saw my dad and stepmom, they’d harangue me incessantly about it. My dad would call me randomly just to ask if I had called the guy. I should point out that the ottoman was stained and the cushion had actually split on the chair, so this wasn’t just a cosmetic, oh, I’ll get to it sometime thing. It’s been needing to get done pretty much since I moved in. My apartment does feel mighty empty though.

I’m off to go do some italian homework. while sitting directly in front of my air conditioner.

Ciao!!

OK, fine, the snowstorm turned out to be worse than expected, and it’s not even over yet. But it’s still not the worst I’ve seen, and it’s certainly not the worst I’ve seen in new york city. The one thing I actually forgot about a big snowdump? That when you don’t have to go to work, it can be quite fun. I dragged myself out of my apartment today, even though I didn’t have to, just to take some pictures. And it was enjoyable. cold, yes, but still fun – It’s the first time that I’ve taken pictures of my new ‘hood too – went into Central Park and caught all the sledding and cross-country skiing and general silliness that snow brings out in people.

By Tuesday, it’ll be miserable, with the sooty, dirty snow and the slush piles at every corner, but for today, I remembered how much fun snow can be.

[Update 2015] In an effort to reduce the number of holdover pages on the blog, I am slowly (very slowly) integrating these albums into the appropriate historical posts on the blog itself. As such, the photos referenced in this post now appear directly below.

OK. Not quite. Not that you’d know that from all of the crazy weather warnings we’re getting around here.

I don’t think it’s a big secret that I’m not exactly a fan of the cold weather, or the snow, but I live in New York. And until the global warming gets even worse, This is a snow zone. Do you know why they’re called nor’easters? because they hit the northeast. And while in some ways pleasant, it’s actually been a bit disconcerting for the weather to have been as mild as it’s been for the past few months (except, of course, the week of the transit strike – that was the week that it had to get all frigid on us?). I’m not saying I won’t bitch and moan, particularly at the aftermath – ahh, blackened slush piles, you look so solid until I end up ankle deep in freezing dirty street water – but we go through a lot worse every few years. My senior year at college was, officially, the third worst winter in Buffalo history (I think there was a winter a few years later that knocked it down to fourth, but at the time, third worst!). And it was Buffalo – where there isn’t not snow from October through May (and yes, it snowed the week before my graduation). During one storm, we were averaging something like a foot every two hours. They had to close the streets because they couldn’t plow them fast enough.

Oh, and then there was the time when it let up a little bit and I flew home to surprise my mom when she was having surgery. We got stuck in the city because the snowbanks were taller than our heads (that was the actually huge nor’easter of 1996). Of course, what my dad and I always remember is my brother almost setting a restaurant on fire (totally an accident – those little candles they like to put in the middle of your table? not such a brilliant idea when you have your special menu taped inside the regular menu so that you have to flip it over the top). You know, I now live only a few blocks from that restaurant, and I giggle like a 12 year old every time I walk past.

So this? annoying? yes. Cause for repeated newscaster freakouts? not so much. Of course, tomorrow’s Sunday, and my only plans involve laundry, reviewing some documents, and staring numbly at my computer screen while I watch three more hours of continuing legal education before my birthday (and state bar registration deadline) on Monday. So the fact that the weather is going to force me to stay inside is probably a blessing.

I’ve been walking around today, chilled to the bone. All I want to do is curl up in front of a roaring fire and drink lots of hot chocolate.

I’ll be the first to say that my commute is relatively easy – 20 blocks (about 1 mile). It’s actually a pleasure to walk when, say, it’s about 15-20 degrees warmer than it was today. But this morning, by the time I got to work, I thought my face was going to fall off (and yes, I wore a sweater, wool coat, scarf, gloves, uggs and a hat that covered my ears). But I couldn’t get rid of that "chilly" feeling all day at work.

We got our first measurable snowfall today, and within about 20 minutes it had turned into slush in my neighborhood, throwing off my somewhat ambitious morning when I walked outside and managed to step ankle-deep in one of those “invisible” puddles that always seem to form at NYC curbs. Oh well. Spending the weekend vegging in my apartment was just as nice.

Just the fact that I didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything (OK, fine, I did do laundry this morning), or have to pack for another trip, was the nicest little break I could have gotten. Sure I still have some work to do (but I can probably get away with doing it tomorrow in the office).

I actually cleaned my apartment this week…well, “clean” is probably too strong a word – I tidied things up. Threw out boxes, hung real window shades on Wednesday night (meaning that my neighbor can no longer see directly into my living room), and packed up all the “contractor” stuff that needs to go to my parents’ barn in the country (I just don’t have room for paint cans, milk crates, plaster, etc.) I still have some recycling to throw out, but I’m thinking that the magazines may go in a box to my brother. I think he’d enjoy several months of New Yorkers and Entertainment Weeklys.

Anyway, I swear I’m going to start blogging more regularly now that I’m home. I promise. really.

It’s been unusually rainy here. It’s rained at some point almost every day that I’ve been here. For the most part, it’s been at times that are OK (like 2 in the morning, when I’m asleep), or tonight, when I only had minimal exposure jumping from my taxi to the hotel doors, but on Saturday night, right at the point when I made my way to the bottom of the Spanish Steps to scout out a place for dinner, the skies opened up and just poured. I got drenched from head to toe in about 30 seconds. At which point I started making my way back up the steps.

Now, you have to understand that Saturday night was supposed to be this big festival in Rome – La Notta Bianca (white night). All the shops were staying open late, and they were having music and parties in all of the squares, including, obviously, mine. So the place was teeming with people. Wet, wet people. One group of whom started yelling at me while I was trekking up the stairs, soaking wet and still getting rained on, about why wasn’t I wearing a white shirt…(I should point out that these were not Italian guys, but definitely of the british hooligan variety). Oy. I thought I had reached the age where I no longer attracted (or whatever you want to call it) the youthful oglers, but apparently no age is too old, and no weather too unpleasant, for some segment of the male population to think it’s an opportune time for you to show them your…*ahem* (no need to encourage dirty google searches!).

So that was Saturday night. needless to say, I ordered room service when all was said and done.

I should say that I’ve been compiling a list in my head of all the things I swear I will never complain about when I get back to NYC (and which I will promptly forget about 3 seconds after getting back there)…

• the condition of the paving of the streets and sidewalks
• the width of the same
• the "out of control" drivers, including the drivers of the taxis that I am in
• parking
• traffic (did I mention that I got to experience the wonders of a transportation strike today?)
• street vendors
• tourist trap scam artists
• the size of my apartment (which is a palace compared to the ‘european sized’ hotel room I’ve been in for the past week
• the channels that I get on my TV when I stay in a US hotel (seriously – I have the CNN International lineup memorized at this point)
• the size of my office (ok, I never actually complained about it before, because I have one of the biggest associate offices on my floor (it’s a quirk of the building layout – basically they couldn’t fit another office in, so each of the two "end" offices on each side of the floor, right next to the giant corner partner offices, are a little bit wider than everyone else’s), but I appreciate it all the more after working in a cube for all of 3 days)
• the speed of my home/work internet connection
• the clearly defined rules for walking down the sidewalk, crossing the street, driving, etc.
• red lights and don’t walk signs
• elevators that are big enough for two people
• the price of diet coke (my hotel seriously charges 6 euro for one – that’s, like $9 for a can of soda – needless to say I’ve switched to espresso, which might be why I haven’t fallen asleep until 2 in the morning every night I’ve been here)
• the fact that my office stays open 24 hours (I worked at the client’s office late last night, and when I got downstairs discovered that the building had been locked, with me inside, but with a "visitor" ID card that only works during regular business hours, and no one in sight – luckily, after about 10 minutes, someone else who actually works there, who spoke english helped me out)
• public transportation

I think of new things every day too…this isn’t to say that it isn’t absolutely beautiful in this city (it’s frankly one of my favorite places I’ve ever been), and I’m in awe of the sheer amount of history everywhere I go. And I could compile a list of things the Italians do better than us as well (I so want a smart car), but right now I’m craving sushi, bagels, diet coke and HBO. And traffic lights (really – there’s one point on the route back to my hotel that involves a major four way intersection, where the only way to navigate is for my taxi to basically push its way through the continually streaming traffic going perpendicular to us – no stop signs, traffic lights, or anything – my heart ends up in my throat on a daily basis).