start spreading the news

New York was a lot to digest and I felt like I needed some distance from it before I could write about it. I think I'm ready to tackle it.

Day 2 in New York my friend kept asking me to make a list of what I wanted to do, which made me think I was supposed to want to do specific things, which I guess I did want but hadn't really thought too much about. We went on a free tour of Grand Central Terminal that digressed into a sales pitch for New York cheesecake and crowd interaction. We stayed a bit too long with the tour, resulting in feelings of lost time, and we eagerly caught the subway to Washington Square to feel more productive. The Shake Shack was something I definitely wanted to experience and, despite hurting my tummy eventually, the burgers and shakes were well worth the 30 minute wait. It surprises me that New Yorkers are so willing to wait for foodstuffs; I always assumed everyone was impatient and hey-I'm-walkin'-here-ish. We walked around the outer path of the Square looking at buildings, though the overcast sky meant I couldn't get a clear view of the Empire State. We headed uptown to the Met and paid $1 each to get in (the only really useful part of the tour was the guy saying that New Yorkers pay for the Met and that the $20 entrance fee is a suggestion, and that the admissions people won't even bat an eye if you give next to no money, which was completely true) and headed to the Jeff Koons sculptures on the top floor. It was unfortunate that the weather was so overcast because the view is potentially grand. We mainly took pictures of our reflections in the balloon dog's ass and did a quick tour through some of the exhibits, and the highlight was "Origin of the World" in the Gustave Courbet exhibit, a piece I enjoyed when I was at Musee d'Orsay. By the time we got out I was well prepared to head homeward.

Day 3: The trying day. We planned the route for the day, from place to place that I picked, and got a somewhat late start considering what "needed" to be done. After a diner breakfast up the street at Mike's Diner, we went to the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, a now-Smithsonian institution of decorative arts, though I wanted to go there specifically because it was Andrew Carnegie's house and I wanted to get some feel for the man that changed how society looks at libraries. It was a little disappointing, as he was not even mentioned, but we did see some nice works. Onward to SoHo for an attempt at Uniqlo. When I lived in Japan, my friends and I would go to Uniqlo every couple of weeks because it was cheap, somewhat cute, and was large enough that foreigners could fit the clothes. On this day it overwhelmed me and made me cry, so I was well prepared to get the hell away from there as quickly as possible. We headed to the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge and walked into Manhattan. This was a distracting walk because Justin and I had a bit of a falling out, yelling at each other and airing some of the concerns that had been building over the previous days. (I realise that I'm difficult to get along with if the other person is not aware of my moodiness and OCD tendencies.) Once the walk was done, so was the fight and we headed off to Brooklyn to visit a place recommended by my friend Randi, who had been in NYC two weeks prior. Unfortunately the place was closed and we drowned our sorrows in fish and chips from the Chip Shop, a somewhat authentic British chip shop (authentic because it seemed like the staff and half the clientèle were actually Brits). We then decided to head to the Brooklyn Museum for the Takeshi Murakami show, which wound up being a lot of fun since the first Saturday of the month is free (except for the major exhibit) and is open until 11pm and has music and booze. Despite seeing his work in Japan, the Murakami show was fantastic and we spent a lot of time wandering around and watching his array of videos. Eventually we both started nodding off and decided to get some bagels for the next day, so headed back into Manhattan to Katz's Delicatesan. Katz's is an experience, especially at night, and we happened upon a wedding party as we arrived. This is kind of funny if you've ever seen the place: it's eclectic and a little frantic and hands-off, which isn't normally associated with weddings. We got our bagels and knishes, and headed off to Astoria exhausted. The best quote of the day, while walking down Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn: "That's Helen Spiegal. She's a lesbian."

On Day 4 we slowed down a bit, which was kind of welcome by this point. We headed out to Brooklyn to try the place that was closed the previous day: the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. Nerd friends will be all over this place, as it really does sell superhero supplies, all neatly arranged row upon row, including superpowers, capes, tights, accouterments, and the like. We spent a lot of time there and collectively took a lot of pictures. A little research revealed this is the storefront for 862 New York, the tutorial program started by Dave Eggers to give kids access to writers who encourage them to improve literacy. All the money generated by the store goes to the program, so we were more than happy to drop some dough there. We then met up with Justin's friend Brian and headed to Di Fara Pizzaria for the best pizza in New York. We wound up waiting an hour for the pie, largely because a pizza party got there 5 minutes ahead of us. Di Fara's is one guy (now likely in his late 70s) making the pizza in an old-world oven and his son taking orders and reminding him of what he has to make. It's an art watching him drizzle olive oil over the dough, followed by chunky sauce, three kinds of cheeses and freshly cut basil. We took our pie down the street and inhaled the whole thing between the three of us. Justin and I continued on the N to Coney Island and walked around the boardwalk and through Astroland, the amusement park. It's a mix of old and new, with glimpses of what the place must have been like in the '50s and '60s. We took a lot of pictures and the weather managed to improve to t-shirt/squinty eye levels. I had to get back into Manhattan to meet a friend, so we headed to the Cyclone for a quick ride (wooden rollercoasters are both one of my greatest fears and one of my favourite rides), and headed out. We got to SoHo with little effort and I met my old uni chum Darren for dinner at the Lucky Strike. His iPhone navigated us (those things are fricking cool) and we had a nice catch-up over pasta and mojitos (which are now my favourite drink for this time of the year during daylight hours), and I'm so glad we got to hang out. A derailment meant I had to figure out an alternate route to Astoria, and got to talking with a woman from Hamilton who had to go in the same direction, so we tried the line I thought was the right one and successfully got where we needed to go, albeit an hour later than it would have taken otherwise (Manhattan was chaos from this derailment, so I was glad to get out of there at all).

The last morning in New York involved an egg & bacon sandwich and a "regular" iced coffee (which means milk & sugar added), and was a nice way to finish the trip. I navigated the subway to JFK and had an internal race with the others on the train to see who could get to the airtrain the fastest (I won, despite letting the others go ahead so I didn't clog the escalator). I was too efficient and arrived 2 hours too early, only to find the most boring terminal ever. They played muzak! I was a little sad to leave New York, but was anxious to get to Chicago. I took the birds flying around the inside waiting area as a sign. On the plane Sufjan Stevens was playing and I got a single seat, so the sign was a good one.

One thing I can't get used to with flights to/from/in the US is that you have to take off your shoes when going through security. I'm fantastically efficient at security now, pulling everything out and plopping it into a bin with a quickness never seen before, all in a fluid motion without stoppages save for the slow person ahead of me and the delayed conveyor because someone else isn't as efficient as me and didn't take the electronic device from their bags.

Soon, a real recap of Chicago.

list of my heart's contents

Things to love about the White City (limited to 10):

1) churches are built on the top of skyscrapers
2) every building prior to 1935-ish has a spectacular lobby
3) rotating doors on most buildings
4) stuffed pizza and, similarly, deep dish pizza
5) the Rock n'Roll McDonalds, with fresh flowers and a piano bar (though the same food)!
6) easy to walk around, easy to take buses/trains
7) free lunchtime tours of buildings around the Loop
8) Dunkin' Donuts on every corner (if I liked either coffee or donuts. I just find this somewhat endearing)
9) the Chicago Architecture Foundation
10) the sidewalks are mostly even, which means I don't fall down while looking upwards, which is the way I walk here

And I haven't even made it to the Graceland Cemetary, which in theory alone makes me love this place.

It is with great sadness that today I board a plane and leave pieces of my heart around Chicago. If you would like to make a donation to my flight fund, be generous.

cheezborger, cheezborger, cheezborger, coke

I'm in the Washington Library, trying out the free internet access here. It's pretty kick-ass. If I decided I want to print stuff, the first 10 copies are free! But this is a pretty progressive city, with a mayor that wants everyone to have access to culture and knowledge, so I guess it goes without saying that such a system exists in the public library. It's a bit of a maze to actually get into the stacks and the marble and fantastic lighting offer a good attempt at making it seem older than it is.

I love Chicago so much that, despite what it does to my hair, I would seriously consider moving here. I've met up with my friend daily since I arrived, with good doses yesterday and this morning/afternoon. I'm glad I made plans just in case my plans with him didn't work out because they were altered significantly Monday. Still, he gave me a good tour of stuff and we talked buildings for hours, which always make me gleeful, and he schooled me on the importance of weiners and meat sandwiches in Chicago's history (the history museum even has a display on how to dress a hotdog!). There are only a few people that make me cry when I say goodbye to them: my grandparents, my parents, and him.

The buildings are something I never get used to here. Every block has another fantastic design and I'm pretty sure I took about 100 photos yesterday of buildings alone. The Chicago Fire was one of the luckiest breaks for any city in history, as it really established Chicago as the place to be in the 19th and 20th centuries. I mean, the Radio Flyer, Tinker Toys, Kraft Mac & Cheese and Schwinn were all started/invented in Chicago. Watch "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" or "Adventures in Babysitting" and tell me the city doesn't grab you.

Gotta run. I'm booked on a Happy Hour skyscraper tour tonight: walking with my head tilted upwards and a beer waiting for me at the end.

i saw a man who danced with his wife

So I'm in Chicago right now and I realise I haven't really written about the New York leg of this trip. I'm not sure I'm going to talk about it today, either, which is not particularly helpful for those that want to hear about how the trip is progressing. It will happen; just not now.

Things haven't necessarily gone as planned so far, which is neither good nor bad. It is what it is. Today I cried to a check-in person at the TraveLodge down the street from the hostel to try to secure a place to stay tomorrow night (the hostel is booked fully on a Tuesday night, which makes NO sense to me at all), but wound up being booked elsewhere anyway, so the tears were in vain. Still, after I arrived in Chicago things looked bleak and disorganised, which you know makes me a bit nutty, but there is little to be done. Everything is mostly sorted now, and whatever isn't fully sorted will be sorted by tomorrow.

I am well, honestly well, and doing nothing I shouldn't be doing.

The cost of internet access is ridiculously high at the hostel and I can't afford to be on again while I'm here (probably, likely). Still, I wanted to let you know that I am OK and the trip is progressing. Really, even the stuff that isn't going right (and there is plenty that isn't) makes me realise that I can survive on instinct and street smarts (what little I have) without too much effort. People have been helpful and kind, and that makes even the most trying stuff more bearable.

Tomorrow will be my first day fully alone on this trip and I am looking forward to it. Chicago's downtown is wholly walkable and I am grateful that my feet have made it through Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens intact and without injury. The Chicago Architecture Foundation and I have a date on a boat tomorrow morning and I plan to romance a deep dish pizza at some point in the afternoon, before heading out to Lincoln Park to stay at a somewhat historic hotel for the night and wander around Wrigley and visit my friend's friends' antique shop.

Slack-off: Day 1

My hair does not like New York. It's a curly-whirly mess, despite the active straightening that I force it to adhere to before leaving the house. I'm going to try to tame it again this morning, but I'm not hopeful. Therefore, you will not see many pictures of me; my hair is not worthy of documentation.

I am, however, having all kinds of funtimes.

Things did not start off so great. I barely slept the night before my flight, due to a combination of slight disorganisation and excitement/worry about what might go wrong. After 2 hours sleep, I awoke and readied myself and my stuff. I decided the nice thing to do for my housesitter would be to take out the trash, but having given her the key that leads to my trash area, I had to prop open the door so I could get back into my apartment easily. Unfortunately the door slammed shut, forcing me to my patio entrance. My spare keys really suck, and I wiggled the stupid thing for 10 minutes, trying to convince the lock to open. I was getting worried: my ride was supposed to arrive in 10 minutes and I still had a couple things to do. Finally, the key turned.

The test of my nerves was not over. My ride accidentally turned off the sound of his alarm and my repeated attempts to inquire to his whereabouts were left unanswered. After 20 minutes I called a taxi, waited another 10, got to the airport and the gate with about 10 minutes to spare. One weird thing was I saw the parents of a kid I went to school with. I said, "You're the Hamiltons. I'm blah blah, I went to school with David." They exclaimed, "Oh, of course! Hello! Are you going to Italy, too?"

The rest of the flight and connection was mostly uneventful.

I made it to my friend's house in Astoria before he got home from work, so sat on the front stoop and checked the neighbourhood. Everything is brick and storied, like a working class neighbourhood almost anywhere. After settling in, we headed out for dinner at a Greek restaurant (apparently I can't be in Astoria without eating Greek, as there is some sort of bylaw or rule that declares the necessity; perhaps it is the slogan for the area) and absorbed the surrounding conversations while we gorged on calimari, kebabs and lemon potatoes. They bring a bowl of custardy baklava at the end of the meal and, despite being stuffed full, we both inhaled the stuff. By the time we got back to Justin's I was dead beat. Managed to fall asleep almost instantly.

Traveling is hard.

a little off (this is the end)

I'm sitting completely alone at work, no one in sight except for the people that pass by my window. I'm feeling a bit weird. This is my last regularly scheduled work day and I think it's finally starting to hit me: I'm done. This should probably illicit more excitement than it does right now. All I can think about is all the stuff I have to get done today.

One of my friends' boyfriends passed me in the hall as I came in and suggested we go for lunch next week. It was weird to say I'd be away for a couple of weeks and that we'd have to organise when I come back. I haven't even mentioned to people outside my department that I'm finishing work. Most who know me know about school and such. Still, it makes me feel a bit odd explaining it at this point.

I'm the slightest bit worried about my flight tomorrow, just because I realise I'll be waiting for/on planes for 11 hours and have very little in the way of personal amusement. I've never gotten an MP3 player and now regret that decision; the thought of listening to other people makes my stomach turn. I've no idea what book I could read that would be both small enough to fit my bag and long enough to get me from at least Alberta to Ontario. There is very little chance I'm going to eat the crap they sell on the plane, but haven't figured out a reasonable alternative. I really should have thought to plan this sooner.

Holy fricking hell, I'm leaving town.

be a joiner

Since people seem completely uninterested in coming to my graduation ceremony, what if I sweeten the pot?

The honorary degree recipient for my convocation ceremony is Michael J. Fox. Still sound like a boring ceremony? Huh? Huh?

I also got an invitation to the luncheon following my ceremony. I think it's going to be good, at Green College, which hosts interesting dinners/lectures on a nightly basis.

Sure, it's on a Thursday morning/afternoon and, sure, you can watch the ceremony as it's streamed live. But don't you want me to not look like a loser as I hang out alone after the ceremony and at the lunch? Ya, I don't really care, either.