Reflections of a marshmallow fluff addict

I'm sitting on my bed that is two feet higher than any bed ought to be, looking at a Marc Chagall poster we rescued from the trash on the way home from classes today. I'm feeling as though life in the city is a bit like this beautiful picture - the wonderful experiences are the most unexpected, but are discarded or missed all too easily. I've realised that all of the girls I'm friends with, the lovely, funny, facinating new people, are all leaving me at Christmas, and it makes me sad. This city will be for me as much the people that I meet and love here as the streets and buildings themselves.

America is confusing and strange. In Washington DC there are memorials that leave me feeling this country is founded almost entirely on military victory and religion, two entities I struggle with. But in the same city are all the beautiful, diverse and unimagined wonders that I love so much. Delicious food in a New Orleans style restaurant, a hidden roof garden, a fantastic art gallery, Getrude Stein recitations by waterfalls at dusk, jazz that makes you feel alive in ways you'd forgotten you could. Even the five hour return bus journey in the dark concluded with New York's commanding skyline lit up against the night, and left me breathless.

Occaisionally homesickness rears it's head, but not in the way I thought it would. For just an instant every now and then, I long for the sound of familiar accents, prices that include tax, proper spellings, even some dismal London rain or a ride on Tube, and of course a hug, some proper tea and a chat at Chandos Ave. I never realised quite how much I loved London until I began to describe it to those who have never imagined anything beyond Big Ben and Buckingham Palace. Even more peculiar, I never expected to feel proud in the way that I do. Proud even, perhaps, of being British, but I'm still not sure about that one - though I'm strangely comforted not to be a native of this fascinating nation.

I've never felt as justified in the decisions I've made in the last 18 months as I do now. I have no doubts I've gotten it wrong, repeatedly, but somehow leaving Oxford, and then London, has landed me in this city, where slowly, slowly, things are falling into place. Its not what I expected, and I remain terrified (possibly not quite the paralytic fear I felt before I left) but if I successfully managed to get myself 3000 miles from home without going into complete meltdown, then maybe it's about time I started trusting my judgement a little more. I can navigate successfully - almost - the crazy masses of buildings and people, and while communicating with individuals is still an anxious experience, these damn yanks often don't give me a choice, with complete strangers launching into conversations all over the place. It's even, dare I say it, enjoyable.

Two days ago I cut my hair - just an inch to stop the split ends and such. It felt like the city was consuming a little piece of me, and that it might go on, inch by inch, until eventually leaving an entirely different, yet entirely the same me. I think I've been reading too much modernist nonsense. Perhaps I will attempt to stop stuffing my face with sugar and get some sleep.

All that and a rubber chicken

After numerous failed attempts to get this post on the road, I’m determined to finish it today if it takes all night. Hopefully once this one is done I can start posting more regularly and we can do away with this rather silly episodic business. In any case, I’ll do my best to pick up where I left off over a week ago, and hopefully you’ll get an impression of the how crazy, intense, confusing and wonderful the last 10 days have been.

View from Bus of Doom

So, we left off just after the bus tour of doom, after which we were given tickets for the Ellis Island ferry. However, the tour guide had mentioned some waterfalls in north Central Park, and after wandering round downtown Manhattan for some food, a contingent got on the rather crazy subway and headed further north than I’d ever previously been (110th Street).

After four weeks in New York I am convinced that the subway is inferior to the Tube in a number of ways. The map is insanely confusing, all of the trains run at different times into the evenings and weekends, distinguishing between local and express trains is a nightmare, and you can't pack nearly as many people in a subway car (I said carriage and was laughed at) as you can on the Tube. Which might not be such a bad thing. However, the subway trains are air conditioned, which may in fact make up for all of their other failings. What do I care if I'm going the wrong way all the way to the Bronx if I'm cool? This particular journey was rather packed, so of course I whipped out the camera.

Roshni, Edward & Paloma

Ed and Hetti, an internationally travelling asthmatic rubber chicken.

The four of us located some bread and jam and although we failed altogether to find any waterfalls we had a very enjoyable picnic in the senic north end of the park. We wandered south as it got darker, and I discovered that my camera sees some very interesting things in the twilight. It was really nice to spend an evening with some really cool people. Paloma is a really sweet quiet Spanish girl who hopefully I'll get to see more of in the future. Roshni proves every day to be a more interesting, entertaining and exciting person than I previously imagined, and I honestly don't know what I'd do without her at this point. And Ed, who makes a lot of silly faces. Ahem. More on that shortly.

Central Park

Picnic Buddies. And my feet of course.

My camera decided that Roshni was a ghost...... and that I was being attacked by fairies

Jacqueline Onassis Reservoir at night and again

Amongst the failed photos were a some raccoons that we spotted going through the rubbish. Seriously, raccoons. Craziness. So after a lovely walk we headed back to dorms and after agreeing that we were far too tired to do anything else that evening, Roshni and I were dragged out to a rather silly night downtown. Despite finally getting ourselves home at 3am, I was determined that we stick to our plan for the next day - taking the ferry to Ellis Island and having some more picnic action. And sure enough, despite varying degrees of sleep (maybe it explains why I kept spilling things on myself in a really attractive manner) the four of us convened downtown and took the ferry around the islands. The weather, in traditional fashion, was pretty crap.

Familiar much?

Oh look. Me. On a ferry. Woo.

September 10th 2006.

We wandered round the immigration museum, had a nice picnic - with brie (cheese is pretty pricey here so that was a treat) - and got the last boat back to Manhattan. Once in Battery Park, we stumbled across a free salsa dance performance which we watched well into the evening. One of the things I love most about New York is the range of possibility - even though I still haven't seen or done that much, I never know what I might discover or run into on any day. Interestingly, that's certainly been the theme of the last week, but for rather different reasons. It started (arguably) on Sunday night, with dinner for two with Ed at the Caravan of Dreams. The place is amazing, hidden just off 1st Avenue in the East Village, specialising in live (raw) vegetarian food. Its a great indie, mismatching, cozy little place with a spectacular menu, and live music when we arrived - I fell in love at first sight. I've been moved to tears by food on a few occaisions, and I was pretty close that evening. Apart from having some of the most amazing hummous ever, I felt like I was finally having the New York experience I'd been longing for since I arrived. Now it's quite possible that this was the result of the company as much as the venue and although I haven't yet returned to the Caravan, I've seen Ed every day since.

And so the wacky began. On Monday - my insane day of classes (9:45am - 7pm) Roshni and I met Ed on campus with perhaps the biggest backpack I have ever seen. He was no longer staying with his friend but had yet to find an apartment of his own. Of course I offered my floor as interim accomodation. As a result, we spent a lot of time together, and I think getting to know Ed is this single most rewarding and amazing thing I've done since I got here. Word on the street is, neither of us are single any more. I didn't necessarily see that one coming, but more specifically I, Miss Oh So Casual, Organised Religion Scares Me And I Never Want To Get Married Tucker, wasn't expecting to be seeing a devout 25 year old Catholic whose been to twice as many Universities as me and has TB (not contagious guys, panic ye not, but those health forms make a lot more sense now). Nor was I expecting to be taking anything quite as seriously as I am, or to be questioning quite as much about my life and decisions as I have. Then again, I always knew I was coming out here for more than just a holiday, and I'm really pleased that I'm discovering more than just the city. Besides all that, I'm having a huge amount of fun and truely am happier than I've been in a good while. Possibly because Ed makes quite so many silly faces, misunderstands my British accent and gets overexcited about daft things like sparkling water and sloping lawns. Ahem. On a odd tangent, this all rather distracted from the fact that Monday was September 11th, which only really occured to be as we walked home and, despite being miles away from the downtown financial district, we could see the two memorial beams hitting the low cloud. I felt completely at a loss as to what was the appropriate response, and largely struggled between sorrow and total frustration. I'm still not totally sure how to feel about it.

Tuesday, I went to Central Park in the glorious sun - somehow the summer has returned to New York - to do some reading, and was met by Ed. In a spectacularly smooth effort that must be recorded for posterity, he had an amazing meal of huge vegetarian wraps and drinks delivered to us in the middle of the park. Nuff said. Central Park is still my favourite place and I can spend countless hours being completely happy there, especially with the right company. Rather more odd company last week included a rather frightening number of people from Hounslow. I met up with Sunny, Dylan & co on Thursday, which was pleasant and sureal in equal measures, and on Friday night Roshni, Ed and I went to visit Mehreen before her departure to the UK early on Saturday. For some reason, being out here makes home feel a vast and unimaginable distance away, and these reminders that it is in fact only a 7 hour flight (several national exchange students complain that they flew further than I did despite coming from the same country) have been odd and confusing. I like it out here, and I'm certainly not reading to start thinking about the return journey.

On Saturday I ventured out into the boroughs once more, this time to way uptown Manhattan and the Bronx. Ed has a class in urban geography for which the homework comprises walking round various areas of the city and answering questions - it's a pretty fantastic idea, and you get to see bits of town you'd never usually visit. It was nice to go somewhere a bit different even though being a white female definitely put me in the minority - I did grow up in Hounslow after all, so being a minority is fairly reassuring. There was one particularly interesting moment when the Ed and I were walking along an aqueduct, bordered by trees and benches. Lots of people were sat around talking and listening to music, and I felt fine until some guy started shouting at us. I panicked, assuming we were about to get some kind of racist abuse - as did Ed - but instead the guy berrated Ed for not holding my hand, warning him that a pretty girl like me was going to be snatched up by someone else if he wasn't careful. I never ever know what to expect in this city. Saturday also witnessed my discovery of marshmallow fluff. It's essentially marshmallow type goo in a jar, but bloody hell, it's good. Marshmallow fluff, jam and peanut butter sandwiches are something else. So, for that matter, are oreos and peanut butter. I've really been extending my culinary experiences out here, including Monday night's visit to a cute Peruvian restuarant on 1st - with a giant octopus painted on the ceiling - and Tuesday night's trip to an Italian fair downtown. I had forgotten just how many yummy desserts those guys make, it was just like being back in Florence. Sort of.

I may be trying new things, but look what they sell in the local grocery store! Craziness.

All in all, I'm really starting to fall in love with New York. It certainly isn't London, but it's pretty special nonetheless. In fact I like it so much, that I'm leaving tomorrow - Jewish festivals mean we have a three day weekend, so Ed, Roshni and I are catching the bus from Chinatown tomorrow night to explore the capital. And if that wasn't exciting enough, I've tracked down tickets to see none other than Regina Spektor at City Hall next Thursday. I am one very happy, very tired bunny. And after a week of trying, I'm finally going to publish this post. Cheers.

A week in the life

Fear not, loyal readers, I have not met a grizzly end on the streets of New York. I didn't even get lost on the subway. I've just been busy doing some vaguely interesting things to tell you about, and taking photos so you can see all the weird and wonderful friends I've made. I have in fact attempted to start this entry a number of times, but ceaseless interruptions you get several posts at once. Last week started of rather slowly, as the weather was still rubbish and I needed to catch up on some sleep, but the sun has at last made a reappearance and the difference is amazing. Features of this week have been finding the Gramercy Diner, a 24 hour establishment that serves some whopping salads and amazing smoothies. Fruit and veg are extortionately expensive here, so spending $6 on a huge salad dinner seems worth it - although we need to stop deciding to go at 1 in the morning, as my stomach is geting rather confused. Classes were intense this week despite only having two days of them - due to the Labour Day bank holiday (I refuse to spell it any other way) we had no classes on Monday. Hunter, in their infinite wisdom, decided we needed an extra Monday, so we had Monday's schedule on a Wednesday, and then a normal Thursday. Monday and Thursday being my most intensive days (classes from 9:30 to 6:30 and 9:30 to 5:00 respectively) I was rather pooped by Thursday night. The upside is that, because Hunter's campus is uptown, I spent an inordinate amount of time lounging about Central Park, with which I am utterly in love. It seems odd to say, but it's definitely my favourite place in the city at the moment, largely because it's such a relief to have somewhere to just be calm in the middle of all the insanity.

Speaking of which - Thursday night a big group of us braved the L train to Brooklyn to locate the bar we'd somehow missed the previous week - famed for it's $1 drinks. Of course carnage insued and because both bars and the subway are open almost straight through the night, it was rather a late on two. Luckily, I don't have class on Friday's, so it was spent largely wandering around 1st Avenue and the East Village, which is literally 10 blocks from the dorms. Friday evening I dragged a few willing victims to go and see 'A Scanner Darkly', which I thought was fantastic, although we all felt someone had been messing with the insides of our heads. Well, I got to stare at Keanu for a bit which is always a bonus. Incidentally, we watched the film at the Sunshine cinema which looks like its going to become my favourite very quickly as it’s in a really great bit of town (East Village area) and has some fab indie stuff on.

I grabbed a reasonably early night Friday in order to prepare for our super special exciting fun bus trip around upper Manhattan (sarcasm alert). In fact, despite our general suspicions that the tour would be awful, it was reasonably entertaining as we all completely ignored the obnoxious (Britain bashing) tour guide and I got to meet some lovely new NSE people. And at long last, you do too!

Jorge, my little Puerto Rican drinking buddy and Kirsten, the lovely lady from Idaho (no, Udaho)

Tyler, from Virginia who loves Batman and looks very fetching in my shades.
Ron, who was in investigative journalist mode for the entire journey. Note the Producers T-shirt.
My partner in crime, Roshni. She's a Wembley girl, so we know about growing up in the, ahem, ghetto. I think I'm actually going to adopt Rosh, or maybe just kidnap her - she's going home at Christmas and not coming back, and I'm not sure how I'll cope without another Londoner to laugh at all the wacky stuff the yanks do. And she lets me copy her homework.
Me and Jorge. Just cos we're soooo cool.

Now, because today is Wednesday (13th) and I started writing this entry quite some time ago, and because I need to leave for class and because a lot (!) of stuff has happened since Saturday afternoon, I'll leave it there for now. Rest assure there are more photos and adventures on the way. Stay tuned folks!

Everyone just pretend to be normal, okay?

Well it's the end of another week in the Big Apple, and in some respects I've got very little to report, largely because I've spent the last few days being sociable; while it's very enjoyable, isn't much to write home about. Thursday was my second day of classes, which generally went well - other than being forced to fork out huge amounts of money for various text books - and I'm particularly excited about my New York Writers class although I have vast amounts of reading. Thursday night the MTV Video Music Awards hit the city, and through some ridiculous bit of luck a group of us managed to get our names on a guestlist for one of the after parties happening across the city. Unfortunately when we got there it turned out to be $30 guestlist or otherwise, so off we trooped in search of adventure - or specifically a bar in Brooklyn. Unfortunately, misnavigation of the subway and rubbish timing meant we spent the next two hours traveling without getting anywhere, so eventually in time honoured tradition we bought a crate of beers and took them back to the dorms to get drunk. As Monday is Labour Day here, we get a bank holiday, and as I don't have classes on either Tuesday or Friday, I was celebrating the start of a five day weekend, and the drinking went well passed the wee small hours of the morning until the rather larger hours of pre-lunch time.

Friday followed a similar theme, with a considerable lie in after the previous night's exertions. I met Mehreen in Union Square for dinner, and then headed on a ill fate hike across town to a jazz bar which we had to abandon when they insisted on carding everyone. Eventually we ended up in a fairly nice bar, after trekking through the pounding rain for twenty minutes - apparently we're catching the rather nasty tail end of hurricane Ernesto. Eventually the bar was abandoned and we headed back to the dorms for a few more drinks and random semi-political debate into the middle of the next morning. Saturday was mostly occupied with stealing other people's music, and sleeping off the previous evening, and a trip out into the storm to eat blueberry pie in a diner at 11pm - such an American thing to do, and such a New York time to be doing it. Despite a total lack of alcohol, I stayed up till the morning again talking to Kirsten, one of the exchange students from Idaho. After grabbing a hot chocolate at 7am we called it a night, and I woke up later on Sunday to discover it had at last stopped raining - which I celebrated by sitting in a cold, dark room with Mehreen - we saw Little Miss Sunshine the Union Square cinema.


I can't emphasise how good this films is. It's undoubtedly a feel good film, and it isn't the most thematically challenging, but it's genuinely very funny and heart warming without being nauseating or too obvious. Its definitely worth watching, if only for the scenes of the family pushing their bizarre yellow VW van into gear. Definitely my favourite completely dysfunctional family. After the film, I met some NSE students at our local non IDing bar for a drinks, and we were introduced to some male friends of one the girls. I have to say, apart from the very occasional iffy comment, no one has said anything here that's bothered me until this evening - when the worst I heard was one of the guys announcing that America essentially equated to the whole world. Some political conversations did start up, and I had to be careful not to go straight into Bush abuse mode. A comment that was repeated several time was that regardless of whether people liked him or not, Americans should support Bush as he is their president for better or worse, an idea that I personally think is a load of nonsense. Just because every 4 years you have a slight hope of influencing the presidential selection doesn't mean you shouldn't question them all of the rest of the time. Or in Bush's case, resent them bitterly. This was also the first time in a very long time that I came across any pro-war sentiment, and several people have either friends or family in the military, which made my usual glib comments about people joining the army being idiots rather inappropriate. It's the first time in a while I've felt a bit awkward about voicing my views because I didn't really want to get anyone too worked up, and the range of opinions does seem a lot more dramatic than at home. Things became a lot more interesting once we left the bar - and the rather immature group of boys (I was later informed that despite looking much older they were all only 18 so perhaps they're excused slightly) and the four other girls and I continued our debate about ethnic minorities. A lot of interesting things were said, and it does feel like the situation here is very different to home - the history of slavery seems bizarrely prominent in everyone's mind here, which just seems a rather strange way to look at things. In any case, I've managed for the fourth day in a row to watch the sun go down and come back up again - being nocturnal is all very well until classes start again, so I'm going to try and get some sleep before the day begins in earnest.