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Cheese.com


CoCo and Hayley are here from Spokane and MIssissippi this week to come play.  Being the seasoned New Yorker of the three, I have been carting them all over town to the most touristy places in Manhattan.  SO far, the cheese list includes the Statch Libby, Empire, Madame Tussaud's, the Sex Museum, the Bodies Exhibit, Spring Awakening on Broadway, Ground Zero, Century 21, night tour of Manhattan, Grays Papaya (x every night before we go home) and many more I have surely blocked out of my memory.  I am having such a time with these girls, I do not believe we have been home at a godly hour since Saturday.  In continuation of the cheese factor, i HAVE to recommend the off Broadway show "Rock of Ages".  It just opened about three weeks ago and we went and saw it.  It's a musical/coming of age/rock concert/love story that is told through 80's hits.  Mostly one hit wonders, mostly bad hair, mostly awesome.  We danced and sang and slapped our thighs raw.  I LOVED IT.  On the employment front, I still have not locked an assignment down.  However, the girls and I went karaoke-ing in midtown a few nights ago and wailed until about 3 am.  One of the many men who was buying our drinks told me that he would totally buy a ticket to see my lounge act, and that I should record an album as well.  This is all the encouragement I need, I may be altering my career goals.  





2

Once, Twice, Three times unemployed.

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Working in NYC (not that I would know!) is tricky. The travel nurse idea was a bust because they are getting all kinds of strict about experience and specialties, so that will have to wait. Staff nursing is a no-go because they dont pay nurses jack here until you've been one for a long time. I considered a per diem position for a while, but in the end they offered me and adult med/surg position. That won't work. So, Im back to the drawing board. The best travel offers I have recieved are from Phoenix, Denver, Texas, South Carolina, San Diego, the Bay area, Sacremento, Tacoma, and Montana. There are some obvious vetoes in that list, but I am taking suggestions. Rock the Vote.
BTDub: I have a paid apt in Greenwich Village until the 2nd. If thou becomes so inclined, purchase a ticket for a holiday before this time. It would be legendary.
0

Really. Really.

Since my move to this city a little over two weeks ago, all of the beautiful people in my life have wanted to know what NYC is like. "But tell me what you do every day! Have you seen TomKat yet?! Has anyone yelled at you? Do you just walk around drunk on your own fabulosity?!" they exclaim over emails, facebook, text message and the phone. As much as I would love to feed the illusion that I ride around in cabs, discuss Russian literature at Dean&Deluca, attend fashion shows and gallery openings, and spend endless amounts of nonexistent money at Saks and Bergdorf's, I would rather paint a more realistic picture upon this adventure I have embarked upon. In continuation of my tendency towards top tens, here is my 
Top Ten List of Inconveniences of Living in New York City:

10: Avenue blocks. There are about 11 Avenue blocks that run E-W on the island of Manhattan. Five Avenue blocks is roughly a mile. As much as I tell myself that three Avenue blocks is only a little over half a mile, they still feel like the yellow brick road. Twenty street blocks (N-S) is about a mile, and I would completely rather walk ten street blocks than two avenue blocks. I hate them. They are long, sometimes steep, and stupid.

9: Grocery stores. Never have I missed Fred Meyer so. The wide aisles, the huge organic section, the selection of laundry soaps. I have never felt so optionless. Grocery stores here are tiny, dirty, and poorly stocked. Most of them have aisles that can accomodate, at most, one small grocery cart and one three year old child. That's it. This isnt even to mention the poor selection and quality of much of the inventory. I had to dig into the back of the shelf in order to find a jar of pickles that hadnt expired. Im pretty sure pickles have shelf lives like twinkies, so that disturbs me to the core. I could drool thinking about Costco right now.

8: Mass transportation. I have ridden in one cab since I have been here. My car service from JFK to my apt the first night cost me a c-note. Thus, I have been riding the subway. This usually isnt a big deal, except that I had never done it before in NY....and the conductors mumble....and youll be hard pressed to find a subway map anywhere inside of the cars. "next stop hmmphstrret. " yeah, ok.....as I frantically look out the doors to see where I am. There are so many trains going so many directions that I thought I was going to stroke out the first time I did it. I am quite proud to report that I have used the subway at least once a day for two weeks now, with no medical intervention required.

7: Construction. In this concrete jungle, I dont know what everyone is building about. There are enough structures. As if the noise level wasnt nuisance enough, there are construction trailers, cranes, and scaffolding on every street, further congesting pedestrian walkways. On a related note, I have, on more than one occasion, been the receiver of lewd comments by construction workers while innocently(annoyedly) walking past. Yeah, Im sure that works real well for them.

6: Tourists. Theyre everywhere. No wonder New Yorkers have such a hate/love/hate relationship with the masses that muddy up their city everyday. They walk slowly on the sidewalks, they stop at the entrances/exits of every building, they speak loudly when confused, and they always have strollers/dangling cameras/other forms of safari equipment that obstruct your path and tangle in the crowds. Every child they have in tow is screaming. They wear embarassingly cheesy NYC paraphenalia. Every street vendor knows the difference, and I am proud to say that I have never been offered a flier or discount show tickets of any kind since I have been here. *Disclaimer: I still dont know where I belong in relation to all this mess. I'm not a New Yorker (yet!) but I shudder to consider myself a tourist. I assume this means I can make mildly insulting blanket statements regarding both populations.

5: Quarter machines on bathroom doors. This requires little description, every woman in America is annoyed by this.

4: It's not warm here, but I'm constantly sweating. The air is so thick I could slice it.
3.5: It's not warm.

3: Being a packhorse. My shoulders have inevitably suffered permanent damage from lugging crap around with me everywhere. I dont have a car to stow anything. So thus, my entire day travels with me. No grocery stops on the way home, unless I can fill one bag or less. The one time I carried full three Whole Foods totes heavy with groceries I practically threw them at the doorman by the time I got home, I was so mad. I am usually a purse minimalist, carrying only chapstick, my phone, and wallet. Not anymore!! I now carry a water bottle (to rehydrate after sweating), my NYC guidebook, calendar, lotion, grocery bags, wetnaps, Purell, sunglasses, and a light jacket everytime I leave my apartment. It's such a big deal to get anywhere that I make it count. This list changes completely if it's raining.

2: Having money ain't everything, not having it is. The myths are true, NYC is spendy. This truth coupled with my lack of employment makes for an extreme inconvenience. I paid twelve dollars to see a movie last night. I have spent over three hundred dollars on groceries in the last two weeks. I won't even tell you how much I'm paying in rent. I have no idea how people do it.

1: Perhaps the most significant inconvenience of living in NYC to me, so far, is that I dont want to leave. I love it here. There is so much happening. It's strange the odd sense of significance you automatically inherit simply by inhabiting a place of significance. I read this quote on the subway (where there should have been a damn map!) that I find to be categorically true: "There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion."

I have come to find in these mere two weeks here that the people who come here as adults are indelibly dissatisfied. Whether it be in their profession, location, or person, no one comes to New York happy with their current situation. Nay, they enter this vast city knowing that there are bigger, greater, more things in store for them here than anywhere else in the world. Just knowing this about myself has made me that much more committed to finding a way to stay. I have realized that there are many aspects of myself that I find less awesome than I intended. This city demands all of my potential. Inconvenient as it may be, I want to wallow in it. and Bloomie's Froyo. For now, I find myself grateful to be here, counting on God to shove me in the right direction......and soon, please.
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You Cant Handle the Truth.

Ok, so there are sooooooooo many NY cliches that I had found to be true, and completely worth the experience. I may be the Met Scrooge, but I will happily gush about so many other parts of the city that I have already fallen for. I have posted some documentation of the beautiful weather and superfun interactive activities I have enjoyed thus far.

Last week, I rented a bike and rode basically around the perimeter of Central Park, stopping at notable locations. I cant get over the weather here. Every area in that place is a scene out of a movie. Literally. I spent two hours biking around that place (only one minor run in with a spandex-biker, who thought he was biking on the Audobon. It's ok, Im sure he was a former Wall-streeter who had to fire his personal trainer last week), and I'm sure I will go many, many more times.



Bethesda Fountain, you can see the pond behind it. I want to rent a rowboat soon and sing silly songs on the water.
Jackie O Reservior, where she ran daily. Love her.


The Castle, where I might take up residence if I dont find a job soon. I could live there and be the troll. Im serious. I'm desperate to stay.

I almost stole one. If I'd seen a big wheel, it would have been mine for sure.

The Dakota. See that light? John Lennon was shot right outside that entryway. Loco Ono now owns over half the building.

Another day last week I took a ferry boat around the harbor. It was warm and sunny (again!) and a perfect day for Battery Park and the ocean. The boat went across the Hudson River to the NJ side, along Staten Island, past Liberty and Ellis Islands, up the East River past the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, and then back along downtown to Battery Park.


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The Great NYC Lie


Ladies and Gentlemen of America, the Met is a crock. Seriously.
I have experienced this cultural/historical/whatever marvel for myself. Since I was unable to go the last time I was in the city, I have since made the Metropolitan Museum of Art a major priority to experience. After church today, I headed north to this famed and revered place.
As you and I both know, the Met is a big deal. Artists, teachers, historians, and even Americans know that it houses an abundance of the world's greatest and most remarkable artwork from all corners of the world. New Yorkers take pride in its location, using it to house benefits, black-tie galas and exclusive company events. 90% of gay males on the island are members. You know this because you hear them chattering on the subway about all of the 'exclusive openings' (ahem, artsy gay speed-dating events) that they attend during the season.

I am here today to dismantle the lie. It's not even worth it. This museum is used to suck money, time, and vitality out of the people of this world.

My first qualm with the Met was that, upon entry, I find that the $20 admission fee is merely suggested. I hate this pretentious nonsense. If you want to charge a twenty, then charge the damn twenty. Dont pretend to be all "equal opportunity, I can pay as I see fit", just to give me dirty looks and point to the sign that says "your full contribution is needed to maintain this museum" when I want to pay half. (On a side note, I witnessed this when the lady in front of me in line wanted to pay $10. I, was effectively bullied into the full twenty. I thought it would be worth it. Hum). I like businesses that say what they mean and vice versa. This immediately put a bad taste in my mouth, but my spirits were still high. I was still going to see the most extensive and meaningful art ever put under one roof in the United States. I can be artsy-fartsy. I have just as good an eye as any snooty gallery goer.

Upon touring oh, three hallways. I am lost. Every hallway and room in the Met is named for some benefactor or historical figure. However, the maps only read the general sections. I had to literally place myself into my map several times a minute in order to achieve some direction. The place is like the labyrinth from Hell; not only are you constantly lost but you have hoards of tour groups/strollers/generally annoying humans milling up and down every hallway, looking like they know where they are . I can assure you, they don't. Ever the patriot, I set out to see the American collection. Can't find it. My "easy to read, family friendly" map indicates white space in between the American Collection and the Musical Instruments. I am thus under the assumption that the American Collection is an island, and I therefore must cross a moat to get to it. Upon questioning one of the thousands of "Met Militia" that arm every blooming room in the place, I am directed a country mile to the men's bathroom. I decide American artists can't be worth all this and move onto the Europeans. Ah, Monet.

Screw Monet, he's not even worth all this. After wandering four collections, every painting looks the same. I have no idea what I'm looking at and am forced to sit down in every hallway because my legs now hate art. Asian tourists are huddled in mass tour groups, each yelling out loud: why the paintings have to be hung so high, why the women are always naked, what kind of a dog IS that?! The exhaustion continues. Upon further observation, I notice that the vast majority of people I see are wearing the same expression as I. I come to the realization that they hate it as much as I do. The Met, my friends, is filled with people who are trying to do the right thing. Every New Yorker they have consulted states the Met as a "must-see". Dutifully, they come en masse to appreciate and be educated. Instead, they are exhausted, hungry, and underwhelmed.
Intellectually, I know that these artifacts, paintings, sculptures, etc. are truly marvelous. They date back to times that I am fascinated with, and yearn to learn much about. I saw the first piano ever made. I saw many original paintings that are so famous and familiar to me. I saw a golden saddle from the 13th century Mongolia. I do not discount these experiences, nor do I deny thier value. I get it. However.
I have to further comment on the extent of the collections there. Repetitions ad nauseum. There is no humanly way to appreciate anything in this museum, because there is simply too much of everything. TOO MUCH. I saw forty swords from every decade since the 1400s. Do the math, I dare you. Grecian sculptures, in part and in whole, filling a hall the size of a soccer field. Does anyone care about historic relics after that many? I blame the Met for ruining my appreciation for history. and culture. and sight.
After two hours of this self torture, I give in to my uncultured, uneducated side and leave. I eat a pretzel outside on the steps, and for the first time today, truly enjoyed the Met. Still living la dolce vita.
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Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious




I desperately needed a break from the job/apt business yesterday.
So I hopped the 1 train downtown and got off at the Christopher/Sheridan stop, in the middle of Greenwich Village. I spent my morning wandering aimlessly for blocks, stopping to go into quirky/inappropriately named boutiques, watching the chess players in Washington Square Park, and laugh at the squawky dogs in the dogpark. I enviously watched NYU students come in and out of campus buildings, chattering excitedly about the impending weekend. Damn, I should have gone there.
After grabbing lunch at the cutest campus cafe ever, I walked through the neighborhoods and admired the brownstones. I want to buy one. Better yet, I want AIG to buy me one. I hear they think they have some cash to throw around. Brownstones are more important than spa days.

After lunch, I was still in Molly Ringwald mode and decided I needed to see a show, stat. The winner was Mary Poppins! So then I wandered Midtown until curtain time.

It was magical.
I was such a doof, I could hardly wipe the goofy grin off of my face until I was outside the theatre after it was all over.
I have been to five B'way shows now, this theatre was by far the most beautiful I have seen.
The chimney sweeps tap danced to StepnTime.
Mary Poppins flies over the audience.
The sets were amazing, truly. My jaw dropped more than once. or ten times.
Maybe the nursing thing really isnt what I was meant for......

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DC Talk







The weather was gorgeous, the landmarks fascinating, the architecture beautiful, the company superb. I'm a fan of the D of C. Cant wait to go again:)
Top ten of the other Washington:
10: Chinatown has no Asians. woot!
9: People love being outside there, there are so many runners and bikers everywhere.
8: the food, oh the food!
7: It's only a four hour, 24 dollar bus ride from the NYC.
6: The metro is clean with cushy seats.
5: Every monument makes me cry.
4: The colonial townhouses, I've never seen anything like them. gorgeous.
3: Tart Fro-yo. Im sure you can find it lots of places, but I had it first here. C'est Si Bon.
2: Cobblestone streets! Seriously! Cant even imagine how the horse and carriage worked on those, but i enjoyed them anyway
1: Sher and T-rah live there:)



Lots of white wigs ate, drank, and were merry at this tavern.
This is George Washington's townhouse, where he and Martha stayed when it was too late to make the 10 mile trek back to Mt Vernon for the night:)
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Got it:)





Im here!
The trip was fine, long but fine.
I am currently staying in a temp sublet at 10 west end ave, between 59th and 60th. the apt hunt starts next week. Until then, Im taking a quick jaunt to see Sheriann in DC for the weekend:)

The city is dark and creepy right now, there's tons of construction in this neighborhood, lots of luxury high rises going up (Who can afford them?!). Im waiting for the morning, thinking the excitement will start then. I cant wait to see Times Square, is it too early to book a B'way show?!
Miss you all already.

Love Love Love

start spreading the news....

Im leaving!
I fly out at 0825 tomorrow, I shall arrive at JFK at 2000. Please send up some prayers for safe travel. In true form, my bags are completely overweight. I dont even know what else to do but sheepishly pay the fines. Once I get there, I am heading straight to a temporary sublet I have set up in the Upper West Side. I am planning on staying there for about two weeks while I find an apt of my own:)
I am already planning on spending the weekend in DC with Sheriann, so check back for pictures and the weekend report. I will miss everyone, but am looking forward to reunions in the Big Apple!
Love Love Love
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