(Scary) Adventures in New York City

Don't worry; it's scary on purpose. In the name of trying new things, and because I hate myself, this Friday I will be going to Nightmare: Vampires, "New York's Most Horrifying Haunted House." (We also had a coupon.)

I'm not an adrenaline junkie, nor am I a fan of scary movies. I'm also not a good person to take to haunted houses because my first instinct when someone jumps out at me is to punch him or her. However, this isn't your typical stick your hand in "eyeballs" and mummies popping out of tombs haunted house. If you haven't already clicked on the link above, once you do you'll see what I'm talking about. And no grabbing or touching is involved. I checked. It's theater . . . in which you are one of the characters.

It took me a good hour to decide whether I wanted to go. I don't think I'll regret it, as long as I don't soil myself or punch anyone, and may even have fun, but I'm really not looking forward to waiting in line to go in. This has nothing to do with the waiting or the line, just the fear/anxiety/anticipation I'll be feeling before we go in. This will probably be the worst part. I could drink a glass or two or eight of wine to relax, but then I might pee my pants. Maybe a shot or two? I might throw up. Drink or take nothing? I might have a heart attack. I've got two days to make this very important decision. I'll keep you posted.

Adventures in New York City

Today I went down to the IFC Center and saw Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which is based on a David Foster Wallace novel of the same name (which I didn't read - don't tell). I went for the following reasons: (1) I wanted to see if John Krazinski could be unadorable and (2) the subject was men. It turns out John Krazinski can play a nonphysically unadorable character. That the subject was men motivated me not in a Samantha Jones way but more out of curiosity. The main character in the movie is a female grad student studying feminism who decides to do her research on how the feminist movement has affected men and on what modern men think modern women want. For a good review of the movie, see Jed Cohen's in the Huffington Post, but right now we're talking about me. I have a tendency to romanticize or completely simplify men, depending on the man. Since it was possible that this movie could provide a little insight to "the other side" I hopped and the subway and bought a ticket. Not that knowing what men think women want is a subject I often think about, but since I'm not a man, and can never be a man when talking to men, I've always wondered how (straight) men truly feel about women. But I'm guessing for every man asked a different answer is given. Which probably isnt' a bad thing. No person with a penchant for character-driven movies will feel they wasted their time watching this movie (just be prepared for the movie characters to sound like book characters), but it didn't make my to-buy list like Away We Go did. The book, however, I may read.

After the movie I walked over to Bleeker Street to the Magnolia Bakery. I'm not a person prone to whimsey, but visiting a bakery in Greenwich Village left me feeling a little whimsical, as did the sunshine, and the kids playing in the playground across the street. So, on a whim of course, I walked down 11th street to the river hoping for a riverside bench or park. And a park there was. I ate my flourless chocolate cake in the little riverside park, stood up and wiped the powdered sugar off my pants, and walked back to Bleeker on Perry Street. When I reached Bleeker I crossed it and kept walking on Perry because I saw stoops on that side of Perry, and, as I've learned in this past month, I like walking down streets with stoops. Because it's whimisical? I'd bet good money that one of those stoops was Carrie Bradshaw's, and if not, they were very similar. (On the show she gives her address as something East 76th street, but I don't think it's a real address.) So far it's my favorite street in the city, but it could have just been the cake talking.

I realize I made two Sex and the City references in this blog. I'd apologize, but it will probably happen again, so I'm not really repentful.

I love when people say "OMG"

This morning at church the scripture reading was from Esther, and during the sermon the pastor explained that God isn't mentioned in the book at all, "not even an OMG." It was awesome.

Protect Insurance Companies

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

And the winner is:

My paycheck! Just in time for me to make quarterly income tax payments. . . .
Now we have to go grocery shopping. Yuck.

However, there is a lovely and not expensive service here in the city called FreshDirect, a grocery delivery service. I know. The $5.00 service fee may just be worth not going grocery shopping, a whole new beast in the metropolis.

The not so amazing race

There are many truly awesome aspects of being a freelance copy editor. Getting paid four to five weeks after completion of a project is not one of them. Most of the time this isn't an issue, and most of the time payment arrives in three to four weeks. This month? Not so much. It's a day into week five and still no paycheck. The month I move to NYC. This is making it interesting. My bank account reads $0.00 and we're running out of groceries. Payment is coming, but will it beat our consumption?

A can of soup, three pieces of bread, three eggs, a stick of butter, a can of refried beans, pancake mix, a box of macaroni and cheese, half a box of penne, quarter bottle of pasta sauce, two frozen hamburgers, six slices of cheese, peanut butter, jelly, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and two end pieces of Italian bread. We ate pancakes tonight.

We can definitely survive a week on this. It just becomes an issue when we have pb&j but no bread, pasta but no sauce, and the like. It's a sitcomish situation for sure. Well, if we were funny and interesting and attractive and had an apartment big enough to accomodate multiple characters at once, it would be sitcomish. Actually, I should speak for myself. My husband is hot, funny, and smart (we are in this city so he can go to Columbia's Teachers College after all), so if it weren't for my lack of all things appealing our situation could be compared to a sitcom.

This isn't a plea for sympathy or even for funds - it was our decision to move to the big city. I also have credit cards (on which March's gloriously frivolous train trip across the country were charged), so we won't starve. It just seems super silly to swipe the plastic under the circumstances. A can of refried beans is totally a meal. I'll keep you posted, sports fans.

Three weeks and three days

Is how long we have lived in New York City. Our camera has been broken since July, so we haven't been able to take and share pictures of our new home. We're waiting on some funds, then we'll be taking our camera to the shop, where it can hopefully be fixed. I really like our new apartment, and not just because it's in New York City.

To quote my friend Joe, who moved down here a few years ago, "EVERYONE seems to have a gold egg-laying goose but you." This statement is true. As two bumpkins in the big city we went out and about a lot when we first got here. Nothing we did was expensive, but even the cheap food and the subway rides add up after awhile. As does buying groceries and toilet paper.

We're very slowly falling into a routine, which is helping us feel more at home. More than most people, because I'm more uptight than most people, I need routine and structure. I've had a lot of work, which is a good thing not just for the wallet but for my need to be doing something seemingly purposeful.

I've also been attending church at St. Paul and St. Andrew United Methodist. Church and United Methodists also make it feel more like home. I like the church. Tim has work study on Sunday mornings, so I go to services by myself. For some reason this makes me feel like I stick out more. This is because I'm egotistic. I think people care about me more than they do, so really the cure to my nervousness would be for me to get over myself. I'll work on it.

Tim's the captain of an intramural soccer league, is student teaching at Manhattan Country School, and likes his classes and advisor. We've made some friends in our building and in the social studies department, and thank God for our friend Eric who went out of his way to make us feel welcome in the city. And contrary to popular insult, people in NYC have been nice, helpful, and caring. Our first week here I saw a dude help a girl carry her large suitcase up a flight of subway stairs. Because I've been trained so well, I thought, "He's going to take off with that suitcase the second he hits the sidewalk." He didn't.

I'm looking forward to using my student ID for free admission into museums, to taking advantage of student rush tickets and reduced-price Teachers College tickets for Broadway, to standing outside at the Early Show because I love Harry Smith, to the free Counting Crows concert in Central Park this Wednesday (and subsequent free concerts in the park and wherever else), and to parades and festivals and people watching. I don't want to live in New York City and ever feel like I wasted my time.

You think you are, but you're not

Some people think it's cute to correct other people's grammar and writing. Don't. (A few people in certain occupations are exempt from this directive. It's most likely not you.) Your desired outcome of sounding smart will backfire when you in fact make yourself look not smart by being wrong. If you can't help yourself, check the Chicago Manual of Style first. And I can't promise that even doing this will make you as cute as you think you are.