TGIF-AFTTC

Thank God It's Friday - And For Things That Change

Zack's final weekend before the bar is about to begin. In just a few days, he'll be done, and we can begin exploring the city together! I can't wait to start checking out filmings (so many shows and movies are filmed here in NYC), and sampling more of this amazing place we're calling home.

But, for now, he is the bar exam's, not mine. So I'll focus on what is mine; thoughts about how we've changed in order to adapt to our new surroundings.

1 - I've learned to love umbrellas. I never liked umbrellas, they always look so gangly and awkward next to their graceful and feminine - albeit less practical - cousin, the parasol. But now, I love them. I even know how to use them. No, it's not as simple as it looks. Umbrellas have a mind of their own, with very perverse and stubborn personalities. They require delicate coaxing in order to open, constant supervision of their environment while open, and then they refuse to close when you are finally inside. My particular umbrella has a bad habit of just opening. Just because it felt like it. And I have an even worse habit of not fastening the snap that keeps it from exploding in office lobbies. No, that never happened to me, why would you ask that?

2 - I no longer respect cars. Not because they guzzle gas or take up space, no, nothing like that. I'm talking about the healthy fear of cars. Anyone who drives a car knows better than to get up close to one while it's zooming by on a thoroughfare. Well, I no longer drive, so I've forgotten all about this. It's normal now to walk halfway across the street, wait for a van to speed past just inches from me, and then continue on my merry - but soaked - way across the street.

3 - I've finally decided I don't like rain. I've always been a little torn on this subject in the past. Rain is fun to play in, and the dreary coziness it brings is so pleasant and calming. On the other hand, rain is very, very wet. Wet is not fun or cozy when you're walking in it on your way to work. It's just dreary.

It's raining today, can you tell?

Control and Self Control

Life has been overflowing lately, hence no posts for two weeks, so enjoy a little tidbit of the recent crazy.

I've always known that SoHo's shopping is 9 blocks too close to my office, so this week, I decided to see how close those 9 blocks were. Way too close. I can easily make the 5 minute walk to the good shopping and have 45 minutes to spend browsing the good stores. My Columbus-proportioned moment of discovery has the potential to be my most disastrous. I'm trying to forget about the temptation of Alice + Olivia dresses by exploring the nearby Parks; Washington and Union Squares are also just a short walk, and a little greenery in the middle of the day does wonders for my soul. I love the summer here, street musicians on the sidewalks, and sipping my Vitamin Water under the leaf shadows.

Zack and I have started making sure we walk through the city, at least in part, every now and again. I love how you can feel the energy of the city, it reverberates off the sidewalks and lighted nights and then gets inside you. Zack says it's just the subway, but we both know it's more than that. We're slowly discovering more and more of the city, with every week that goes by, but most of our exploring is on hold for now until the bar is over. Only 11 more days.

With our limited time, Zack and I invented our own conversational game; who saw the weirdest thing on the subway today. I usually win if I commute to work at rush hour, picking up loud-mouthed Jersey-ites at Grand Central and hipsters at Union Square, but if I go in early then his midtown tourists almost always take the cake. Our winners of late:

• An elderly woman who sang her own mashup of worship choruses, loudly and off key, before walking up and down the car saying "blessa my sistah, blessa my brothuh". 
• The man who opened the back door of the car to dump a bottle of prescription pills. Suspicious much?
• All of the people who walk into the train car and stand in front of the door, blocking the entrance for everyone else. I get that you like to lean on the door when you ride, but I also like getting home. Move out of my way. 
• The tourists who get annoyed whenever anyone brushes or bumps them. It's a crowded subway, what did you expect? Take a taxi if you're going to complain. 
• A man selling airplanes, discussing his commissions of $500,000 and $700,000, respectively, as well as his 10% stake in another 7.2 million dollar jet. I'm clearly in the wrong line of work. 
• Two men having an extremely sexist and inappropriate recap of their female interviewees for a position in their company. If I'd known where they worked I would have reported them. Disgusting.  
• A couple arguing over the best way to get where they're going, and then the wife makes a ridiculously inappropriate comment and they both crack up. Oh wait, that's us. And no, I'm not posting the comment on here. 

We've adjusted quite well to public transportation and not having a car. We love not worrying about car insurance, repairs, and gas, and enjoying the commute time that can be put towards things other than just getting somewhere. I love to read the paper on my train, Zack usually has a book on his iPad. It has it's moments though, like last weekend, when the conductor suddenly announced we were taking another route, which would have worked out well if he hadn't changed back to the original route once we got uptown, without announcing it. Whoops. We walked home from Columbus Circle that day. It's the feeling of not having control that irks you in that moment, more than walking in the heat and humidity, or the time lost. But it's the feeling of letting go, just enjoying the sun and the sidewalk, that makes you happy to be here.