Monday, September 20, 2010
An Unexpected Turn of Events
I decided to go home to Brooklyn and be with my parents for the weekend. You know, do some laundry, have some dinner, talk about how awful it is to be living in one of the greatest cities in the world. (Just kidding). But now it was Friday night and it was time to see one of my best friends. I decided I wanted to take her around the city, mostly downtown and grab a bite to eat. Things were going as they normally did until I took it upon myself to be spontaneous and invite some other friends. I should have known things were not going to be good when my driving skills seemed to be looking less like skills and more like incapabilities. Even pulling over was becoming a hassle…as seen by the scuff I left on the innocent 2010 Mercedes Benz I victimized. I ended up paying my dues to the owner of the vehicle once her husband pulled up and harassed me with questions. But regardless it was still a Friday night and I was not about to go home so my friends and I voyaged to the city in search of The Creperie. AKA, the hole in the wall that makes the greatest crepes in the World.
I had my GPS, but still managed to make a completely wrong turn and end up going towards MMC. Once I got my bearings straight and arrived to The Creperie it seemed that the night was going to end off on a good note. I was wrong. Intelligent me decided not to turn my GPS back on and use whatever knowledge I had, or lack of the city streets at the time to find the Brooklyn Bridge. Needless to say I ended up following the signs for the Manhattan Bridge and ended up on Vesey Street. Now I knew where I was- Ground Zero. The one place I try my best to stay away from.
Time does not heal. And you don't forgive and forget. I don't at least. It's not easy for me to accurately describe the emotions I feel about September 11th. Sad? No, that's not strong enough. Vengeful? That's not Christian-like. So what am I allowed to feel? Well, as a New Yorker, valiant and unyielding. Don't be mistaken, I was terrified that day, that week, that year. Both my parents were in Manhattan and I could see the towers collapse from my fifth floor classroom in P.S. 176, but there was a certain implicit warmth felt between New Yorkers in the following weeks. I could still feel it as I drove past Ground Zero that night. I could feel the tears I cried that day and hear the screams in the streets. I could see the pictures from all the magazines and newspapers of people injured, killed, or jumping to their deaths. I could feel it all as I tried so hard to stay within the solid white lines as I drove by. My heart felt heavy from all the emotions running through my mind and in my blood and as hard as I tried I could not speak the rest of the drive home.
Somehow I made one simple right turn and found myself on my way to the FDR going towards the Brooklyn Bridge. It was as if God had wanted to remind me of the horror of that day or of how grateful I should be to have my parents unlike so many of the children who had lost theirs.
The city
The other day I attempted to walk through central park and find a short cut to my bus stop. Well, let me just say it did not end well. I got lost and had to ask about five people where to go. Besides the fact that I got lost, I really liked the experience. The park was beautiful. I still can't believe that it is so big. When you look at it on a map you would never imagine how that size is equal to its actual size.
Not only are the places in the city very unique, but the people are too. On my trip to the park I interacted with several people. They were all nice enough to point me in the direction I needed. But they were all diffent. Some were parents, workers, and dog owners.
So every time I walk around the city I will remember to take in each aspect and person because each are unique and diverse.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Long Isalnd Surprises.
My cousins moved to Babylon, Long Island about 5 years ago. I've probably been to Long Island twice my whole life and never really thought much of it. It seems very quiet and pretty boring. Let’s just say my whole perspective changed after my last visit. After the hour long drive, I finally arrived to my cousins beautiful home. I quickly found parking (which was a first), and began to go on the tour of what seemed to be a small mansion. We spent the day in her backyard with the rest of my family. Long Island has such a fresh and clean aroma to it that makes you want to sit outside all the time no matter what the weather is like. As the day went on my cousin told me we would be going to a party. I laughed to myself at the thought of how these "long island kids" would party. My cousin reassured me that I would have a good time, and even said we could leave early if I really wanted to.
Let's just say I did have a great time. I felt like everyone was so welcoming and open to meeting me. There were no fights or drama and everyone seemed to get along great. And even though I wasn't a familiar face no one was rude or gave dirty looks. It may seems like common courtesy to be nice to someone you just meet, or to not start fights at parties. But let’s just say in the city, these things aren't very common.
Needless to say, while in Long Island i forgot I was actually in NY and the fact that I actually was made me love this place even more. Long Island surprised me in a great way, and it is definitely a place i can see myself living in the future.
I Don't Think I'm In Connecticut Anymore....
Just Another Day in Madison Square Park
The San Gennaro Feast
Even though I am a native New Yorker, I rarely was brought to the city when I was a young child. I have lived on Staten Island for my entire existence ... Unfortunately. Staten Island is one of the five boroughs of New York City but I see it was the forgotten borough. When you think of New York City, the “Big Apple”, monstrous skyscrapers, angry taxi drivers, bright lights, and commotion in every which way you turn comes to mind. But Staten Island is hands down one of the most boring places to ever live. It is more of the suburban lifestyle way of living. And that’s definitely not for me. So it was always a pleasant surprise to being leaving the island for a short period of time. As I got older the city was always my favorite place to visit. Since it was only one ferry ride away it was more like an escape from this dull island.
September 17th, 2010 I chose to visit Little Italy. My Aunt had told me Little Italy was an endearing small “town” that was only span a couple blocks long mainly on Mulberry Street. So we decided it was the most perfect time of year to explore because it was the San Gennaro Feast. My Aunt Melanie has went to the feast before but we established we would have to experience it together this year. The San Gennaro Feast has been going on for 84 years. It’s a celebration that no body should miss out on.
Even before you even turn onto Mulberry Street you can hear the sounds Italian music and of people enjoying themselves. When you are actually on Mulberry you can barely move. There are so many people walking around, eating, talking, shopping and much more. The feast basically consisted of foreigners and tourists studying and enjoying their surroundings. The outdoor cafes were jam packed so instead we shopped and walked around for a while but it was mostly cheap knockoff items being sold. By far my favorite part of the entire trip was the massive amounts of delicious food I had eaten. The food is essentially all Italian delicates from dinner foods, snacks, and desserts. My cravings went from one extreme to the next, from sausage and peppers to cannolis. But thankfully the feast had it all. I would recommend going to Little Italy during this time period. The feast lasts for 11 days and ends on the 26th of September. Little Italy was a quaint town that you can always go back without much change being done to it. You might even forget you’re in New York City for a couple of hours.
By: Elizabeth Wright
A Day In Chelsea & On The High Line
Glories and Horror Stories of the Bronx
As a suburban New Yorker myself, I have some city blood in me, but only half. The other half of the blood that runs through my veins is the quiet, green-lawn-loving, cute red car driving, girl who loves a night hanging out with good friends in a basement. So coming to The Big Apple to actually live, has certainly been an experience.
I just got home from Manhattan College in Riverdale, NY to visit my best friend, Monica. Riverdale is located in the northwest most portion on the Bronx or the “BX” as everyone there refers to it, I learned. I was so excited to see Monica that I almost forgot about the reputation I have known my whole life about certain areas of the Bronx: girls need to carry mace, drug dealers line the corners, never travel in a group of all girls after dark and so on. I started to flip out on my subway ride up there. Here I am, an 18 year old female, who really looks like she has no idea what she is doing as she reads a map of the subway. A tall african american man was bopping his head back and fourth next to me as he was listening to Drake’s “Up All Night” and didn’t refrain from singing, at a loud tone I must add, “ok now we outta here, toodles to you bitches,” and then stopped. I guess he was just really feeling that line....
So anyway I braced myself for the worst. But surprisingly, when I hopped off of the subway, I was taken aback. There was lots of green grass, a dad and his two kids playing wiffle ball off to the side of an apartment building, and many people dressed and walking to temple, obviously for the Jewish holiday. It was quite....serene.
Monica picked me up and as we were walking to her campus it got nicer and nicer. Her dorm had a beautiful view of trees and flowers located in the courtyard area of the school. It was like I wasn’t in a city at all, almost like central park but it felt so much more like home to me. It was suburbia!
I asked Monica what was going on and where the scary Bronx were. She simply replied, “just wait until tonight.” We went out last night and as we were traveling on the shuttle bus and getting farther away from campus, I began to see what she meant. The graffiti along every building or structure was angry with tones of yellow, red or black and in general, the people on the street seemed tougher. An old man asked me for some spare change, and came closer and closer to me as I was walking away, demanding I give him something. It was a scary feeling after seeing such a peaceful campus. We ate at a diner around 2am because after being up so late, we were unbelievably hungry.There I witnessed a waitress grab a costumer by the ear and throw him out. She had red hair(as in the actual color red) pulled back into a tight bun, wore light blue eyeliner which didn’t help the sharp stare in her eyes, and drew on her eyebrows a color that anyone in their right mind would know was not natural. Apparently this 20 year old guy who she literally threw out was “sassing” her and she had “had enough of that shit.” Basically you don’t want to be on Tina’s bad list....
So although I had a blast with Monica and loved her campus, I don’t know if the Bronx are for me, at least the part of it that I was exposed to. Walking off of the subway this morning into Columbus Circle was like walking into my concrete secret garden. It was so different from the place that I had spent the last 24 hours.
I always knew I wanted to live in NYC one day because come on, it is the greatest city in the world! Whenever I tell people I’m from New York their eyes light up as bright as Times Square and they ask me question after question about a fantasy life they think I live daily. Well the truth is, now I do. Manhattan is my fantasy.
My trip to Roosevelt Island
A taste of Latin America in New York City
Cuban Coffee
The Patti Saga: Upper West Side and Union Square
Location: FirstYearMentoring..,.
Destination: Barnes and Noble at Lincoln Center to witness Patti Lupone's Book Release Concert
Chapter One - Getting There (Not the Mary-Kate and Ashley Movie... unfortunately)
I think the NYC transit system and I are fighting. The subway wait is making it awkward for the two people I dragged down into the station to see Famous Broadway Diva Patti Lupone. The 11 minute wait for the subway and 14 minutes until show time are causing me to get rather antsy in my wet khaki shortshorts. I suggest we dash up and catch a cab.
So we do...
.... even though we already used our metro cards to get into the station...
Once we get to the street we attempt to hail approximately 12 cabs before landing lucky number 13...?... The cab driver is incredibly frustrated that the three of us are, like, breathing I guess (I'm pretty sure there was nothing else that could have made him angry because seriously all we did was breathe). Anywho, on the way we pass super intriguing crime scene in Central Park and a plethora of soaking wet, jaded Upper Eastians.
Chapter Two - The Arrival.
We see the building. PAPAPPAPAAAAATTTIII!!!! Oh, I neglected to mention that neither of the girls I'm with have any clue who Patti Lupone is... those darn Speech-Path majors. So we race in and down the first escalator we find. Unfortunately this speedy decision did u
s no good given that Ms. Lupone was not on the first floor, but the fourth. Escalator after escalator until finally we get to... PA....PATT.....PAAATTT.... the-security-guard-who-tells-us-no-more-people-are-allowed-in-to-see-patti.*Profanity*
Chapter Three - The Recovery and, ya know, the Actual Assignment
We do see/ wave at Patti through the giant glass case and watch a little bit of the performance on the TVs one floor up in the Starbucks (obviously we get food... based on our collective depression about the lack of Patti). Then we decide to walk around Lincoln Square.
Columbus Circle is one of my favorite parts of the city because of its openess, beautiful fountains, and enormous variety of fabulous people. We managed to catch some C list, starving Super Models coming out of the Fashion Week Event in the Square. We also got free Frappucino coupons (which was ironic considering the Starbucks in our hands), invited to hop in a sketchy bus traveling to the Meat Packing District, and given various post cards leading us to various hopeful designers websites.
Despite our ability to be in the same room as Patti, we celebrate our small victories. For example: getting across town in twenty minutes, trying giant pizza pretzels that turned out to be "just okay" according to Anna Patruno, and standing alongside clueless Paparazzi.
This evening definitely resembled my New York. It was beautiful, spontaneous, tragic, and just awkward enough.

Friday, September 17, 2010
The Silence of Brooklyn
The first thing I noticed as two of my roommates and I began walking around is just how peaceful it was. There is some sound but there isn’t chaos. You can look across the water at Manhattan and see the tall skyscrapers and hectic lives but you can’t hear the noise. If you close your eyes you can picture where 71st and 3rd might be but it’s hard to fathom the craziness. The hustle and bustle. The screeching brakes on the M102. The infinite conversations going on. The impatient pedestrians who never wait for a walk sign. They were all missing as I casually strolled down the empty streets. In Williamsburg the only noise I heard was the sound of footsteps as they meandered down open sidewalks. When you look across the river, you see a different world. A mere 5,989 feet separates these two places that have few things in common and yet, most of the people over there return to their homes over here at night.
Everyone has somewhere to be but no one is in a hurry. That’s one of the biggest differences. The cost of living is another huge thing that separates these two places. A soda in Brooklyn costs a dollar, in the city? An arm and a leg. But all hyperboles aside it does cost three times Brooklyn’s price.
Strangely enough I found myself missing the noise associated with Manhattan; after a few hours the silence became unsettling. When you’re used to falling asleep to the tune of an ambulance it’s hard to be awake in quietness. Following such a calm day I was ecstatic to hear the L-Train rattling down the tracks. As it squealed to a stop and the doors separated it was like Manhattan was spreading its arms open and saying: I missed you, welcome home. I smiled as I stepped on and found a seat. Brooklyn was a fantastic place but I belonged where a soda costs three dollars and you can never be in complete silence. I belong in Manhattan. After getting off at Union Square and transferring to the Five I finally got off at my stop thirty minutes later. I emerged from underground and was instantly greeted by noise. Noise – I couldn’t be happier.
My trip to chinatown/soho
As I walked through the city street at night,
It didn’t look much different than the day.
The different people that were in my sight all had something to say.
Chinatown, one of the cities busiest area, gave me something to seek.
As I strolled through the booths of fake Louis Vuitton bags, I couldn’t help but peek.
“$50 dolla” “50 dolla” you could hear a man’s voice screaming that on every city block.
And if you showed some interest, you were their new victim.
P.S., I’m still in shock.
So let’s go forward in my journey of when my stomach growled.
I went into a Chinese food store, and oh how I’m glad I did.
The chicken brocolli and rice, it was just splendid!
And then went on to eat some sesame chicken that was perfect.
I thought it was too early, so I went to SOHO too,
The greatest fashion place that you can ever go to!
I undressed and dressed, and undressed and dressed in a store called TopShop.
Greatest clothes but so overpriced, not planning to get broke.
Then, of course because of my pen obsession I went to Muji next.
They have the coolest pens in every color you can guess!
So as my night ended, and my feet gave up on me,
I took the next B train, to my home—
Brighton Beach.
