Saturday, July 28, 2012
9 house guest in 900 square feet
Hunter came to stay with us the first of June and left this past weekend. The last ten days he was here he had his three best friends from Denver come out to visit. Logan, Wesley and Chris are like family, so I didn't hestitate when Hunter told us about their plans to visit. The four boys (including Hunter) have piggybacked on our hotel rooms in Durango for years when we visited Jordan in college so I have certainly been in tight quarters with them.
The wrench in the works was when Hunter asked if the Colorado Parkour team could stay three nights at our house which just happened to coinicide with the days that his best friends were already booked as our guests. Let me add that the two groups of boys are all friends in Colorado, so it's not that strange of an idea that they would all "crash" together. If any of my readers are familiar with the show "Ninja Warriors" you have probably seen a number of the Colorado Parkour team on the television show.
I still think of Hunter and his friends as "boys", but in fact the youngest was 19 and the oldest was 25, so in fact my house was full of men. They are men who jump on rooftops (roof gaps) and scale brick walls by their finger tips. The testosterone level was palpable in the apartment during their visit.
The lucky part was that Jordan moved to Austin the day after the boys arrived and Jeff was in Detroit on business for the week, leaving Hunter, Cameron and I to host.
So there were eleven of us in the apartment. Eleven people in 900 square feet. I am actually the control freak in our family, so giving up control of the apartment was hard for me. But to agree to them staying, I had no choice but to let them come in and spread their stuff out. I gave them my bedroom as the dumping ground for their bags allowing the livingroom/kitchen to stay pretty tidy except for the computers and phone chargers that were stretched across the room. I slept with Cam in her room, so she and I did have our little sanctuary.
When I agreed to the Parkour team staying at our apartment, Hunter said that they would only be sleeping at the apartment and would be spending the rest of their time out seeing the city and getting footage for the team video they were working on on their cross country tour. It made perfect sense and who would ever imagine that 20 something year old young men would opt to stay in my tiny apartment staring at computer screens instead of exploring New York City just beyond the stoop of my building.
I heard one of the young men say "It was really nice of our host in Boston to want to show us the ciy, but they really didn't understand that we need to conserve our energy and all that walking really took it out of me". I wanted to ask what he was conserving his energy for, but I refrained. But that was the foreshadowing for them not leaving he apartment for four days. That is not to say that they never left, but they did spend a hell of a lot more time inside than I had expected.
At one point I was at work, the boys were out filming, and Cam was home alone. She cleaned the house, went shopping, made Toll House chocolate chip cookies, and made dinner for me. But by the time I got home the clean house was over taken by large bodies, the cookies were gobbled up, and my dinner was tucked away in the frig to keep it away from hungry onlookers. But I appreciated Cameron's hard work even though it was hard to see it underneath all of our guests sprawled across the living room.
And they showered all the time. I felt like a hotel maid taking large piles of white towels and washing them daily only to find them back in a wet pile the next day waiting for housekeeping to replenish them.
Honestly, it wasn't that bad. And a day or so after they left Cameron said that she acutally missed the enegy of having so many boys in the apartment. I didnt' miss the laundry or the stepping over backpacks and sleeping bags, but it was rather fun having Ninja Warriors visiting for a few days.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Swimming in Central Park
After work today the girls and I went to Lasker Swimming Pool. It is a free pool in Central Park, but you must bring a lock for a locker. It was probably 95 degrees today so the pool was extremely refreshing albeit crowded. There were probably about 300 hundred people at the pool and we were three of maybe ten white people there. It is near 110th Street which is, technically, Harlem so it was not unexpected but rather interesting non the less. The pool is a large round pool about four and a half feet deep through out. At one point we were walking across the pool and a Polish man said not to us, but audibly about us, "Ah, we need more beautiful woman here." I wanted to laugh, he looked like a character out of the old cartoon "Hey, Arnold". The collection of lifeguards was very interesting. There was one anorexic girl who was wearing long pants, a long sleeved shirt and a scarf around her neck - we didn't think that she would have enough strength to save us. Another lifeguard we called Fabio - no further description needed. Then there was a Michael Jackson circa 2000 look alike. And finally, one cute life guard seemed fine and fit until he proceeded to put his hand down his pants for several minutes. We couldn't look away because we were transfixed by the fact that he was so interested in himeslf and so uninterested in watching the pool.
In the middle of the pool was a large group of teenaged boys and girls. As we floated and walked through the water we never felt threatened by them in any way. They were dunking each other and flirting. No big deal, but I guess dunking is not allowed. There was a lot of whistling from the lifegards telling them not to dunk each other, but no adult or authority figure ever got into the water and talked to the large group directly.
After we had been there for about an hour and a half we could see a police car had pulled up near the gate and the lifeguards were now telling everyone to get out of the pool an hour before the swimming session was supposed to end at 6:00 pm. The teenagers splashed their hands in the water in unison causing quite a splash, but then they proceeded to get out in an orderly manner. What I thought, to myself, was how strange the whole scene was to me and yet how normal it seemed to the other swimmers. I have never been in a public setting where the police came in and basically said, "Ok, the fun is over. Break it up and head home." There were a few grumbles from the crowd about how a few were ruining the fun for the masses, but as a whole, everyone followed the rules without question. I wondered if it was an urban thing where people just know that the masses must follow the rule for the greater good or if it was a race thing where an oppressed group has learned to go with the flow or suffer the consequences.
The girls and I plan to return again tomorrow afternoon to beat the heat and work on our tans. People watching and urban dynamics don't get any better than the Lasker Swimming Pool in the heart of Central Park.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Boundires and Adult Children
This is not so much about living in New York, but more about young adult children living with you. Of course this is compounded by the New York City sized apartment and the cost of living in the city.
Last year after Jordan got back from her summer in Tokyo completing her BA at Temple University Tokyo, she moved in with us to decide what her next move would be in her foray into adulthood. Ten months and one unpaid internship at an animation studio later she has decided that she is heading to Austin, TX to get a job at Blizzard Studios (parent company of World of Warcraft for those in the know). First of all, Jordan is probably the least offensive house guest that you could ever have. And second of all I think having her here has made Cameron's to New York much easier. But... she has been sleeping on the fold-out couch for ten months. She is tired of pulling it out and folding it up each morning and I am tired of my livingroom being a bedroom. She has split her clothes between a small wicker dresser in Cameron's room and a rolling rack in my bedroom (I think the shoes are strewn between the two spaces). Jordan moved to Durango her freshman year and lived on her own for four years, so I know moving back home as been a struggle for her as well. She has a job at a boutique in Soho. One night she had to stay late to take inventory. It is a tiny boutique so we expected her home around 10:30 p.m. By midnight we were worried and she was not answering her cell phone. If she tells us that she is going out after work with friends we do not wait up because we have a general idea where she is heading in case she doesn't return home by midmorning. But in this case we thought we would hear from her to let us know she was on the subway headed home. We called the store at 12:30 a.m. and her manager said that they had just finished inventory and Jordan had left 10 mintues earlier. When Jordan got home we told her that her manager had told us she had finished around midnight. Jordan was livid (hmmm...I'm not sure Jordan and livid can be used in the same sentence but I am taking poetic license). But it's a perfect example of a parent not being able to go to sleep not knowing where there child is and how an adult child who is at work does not even consider the need to call their parents to tell them that their work is running late.
Hunter on the other hand is more in the gray zone. He spent a year between working in Zion National Park and working his way through Europe. Ane he has been living on his own this past year in Denver going to college. Becasue of his indpendence I was surprised when he landed back in our apartment this June ready to lay on the couch for a lazy summer. I don't think he reads my blog or he would have realized that not working is not an option when I am working two jobs. At our urging he did quickly land a job at Argo Tea as a barista, although he grouses about tomorrow's shift endlessly the evening before. I'm not sure how he thought taking a good chunk of the summer off and having spending money in New York City would reconcile itself but some heated arguements transpired before he starting applying for work. From my own experience working at "un-named retailer", having a job in the city allows for a unique vantage point seeing New Yorkers as coworkers and customers, always making for an entertaining story at the end of the day. He will go back to Denver with a much richer view of the city as a participant in the flow of the commerce and much richer in his bank account that would have surely been quickly depleted if he had not joined in the work-a-day world.
Cameron, at fourteen, still has a free pass, although if anyone reading this is looking for a babysitter she is available!
And at what point do you stop paying for your young adult's entertainment and eating out? We don't eat out every day, but in NYC it is much more common to eat out than probably anywhere else in the country, so should I foot the bill for their slice of pizza or take-out Chinese? When we go the beach should I pay for their $35 train ticket and lunch on the boardwalk? When everyone is headed out to work should I offer my metro card at $2.25 per ride? and when we are making a late night run to Insomniac Cookies do I offer my debit card to cover cookies for all? Although we live in a vacation destination we are not on vacation. And no one that I know has a vacation budget 365 days of the year. At what point do you tell your adult children that just because they are living at home they are no longer a dependant child?
In three a week when Jordan moves to Austin and Hunter is back to his life in Denver, all of this will be a moot point, but until then the bank account is still hemorraging.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Graduation and New Beginings
Between work and life I have not been able to write since the move to our new digs on 108ths and Manhattan Avenue. We moved in and the contractors were still in the apartment putting in final touchs on the cabinetry and plumbing. In the last three weeks we have had to constantly be on the landlord to complete some basic functions, including installing smoke alarms, fixing a leaking pipe, and getting broken outlets repaired. One by one they are falling into place. Our former property management team was far superiosr to our current one, but the light and space are amazing so I really can't complain. Our duplex apartment is on the first floor and basement level of our building on the corner, so the light is flooding in on two sides which is wonderful after a dark year with no direct light from our former apartment.
Our neighborhood is a mix of Hispanic, black and white. We all disagree with the balance of ethnicity, so I'd guess that it's a pretty even mix. In our old neighborhood people beat the heat by sitting on their stoops, but in our new neighborhood the stoops is just part of it. Primarily Hispanic families bring out the lawn chairs and make it a party on the sidewalk and open car doors to flood the street with Latino music.
Back to the present...
On Wednesday Cam graduated from 8th grade at the Computer School. Hunter told her that as a recent high school graduate he observed that her graduation and prom were on the same par as some of the best high school celebrations he has scene. Because the kids all go on to different high schools the middle school graduation is really designed to celebrate the time they had together and to wish them well on their journey forward. I can not say enough about the quality of education and the dedication of the teaching/administration at her middle school. It was the exact opposite of what I had thought an inner city NYC school would be like. The school was bright and well maintained with the most up to date computer equipment and the teaching staff was young and full of new ideas, eager to teach the diverse group of kids.
For the prom Cameron and her friends met at one of the girl's apartments to get ready. Rachel's mother, Barbara, invited parents over to take pictures of the girls before they headed out. Of course, I was as interested in seeing their three bedroom apartment on 157th and Riverside Drive as much as I was in seeing the girls. Ten months ago Cameron started the Computer School knowing no one and here she was with a group of six wonderful girls in a lovely home heading out to celebrate an amazing year. When we moved here my biggest fear was that Cam's school would not be up to par with Colorado schools and she would not make any close friends. The graduation and prom confirmed how unwarranted my fears had been.
After we took the subway with the kids down to their venue the parents headed over to Jessie's parents house, where K and Charlene were waiting with a gorgeous spread of food and wine for the parents as we waited for their return. Charlene and K live in an amazing townhouse. Considering the average size of a New York City apartment their townhouse is huge and a wonderful place to entertain. As diverse as the girls are so go their partents. Of course our common ground was to discuss the girls.: how frustrated we are when they don't call after riding the train to a friend's house, how expensive it is to keep up with open campus lunches in Manhattan, and who was going where for summer vacation (no child stays in the city over the whole summer - hummm? a... what? I guess I need to make some plans for Cam, quick).
Work at "un-named retailer" is bad. Exhausting. Management by intimidation. Anyone who knows me will understand that I do not respond to that and I will not follow in those footsteps. Of course juggling HRPlus and the retail management job is impossible and new structuring at HRPlus is making things change immediately. Stay tuned. For better or worse is yet to be determined.
Our neighborhood is a mix of Hispanic, black and white. We all disagree with the balance of ethnicity, so I'd guess that it's a pretty even mix. In our old neighborhood people beat the heat by sitting on their stoops, but in our new neighborhood the stoops is just part of it. Primarily Hispanic families bring out the lawn chairs and make it a party on the sidewalk and open car doors to flood the street with Latino music.
Back to the present...
On Wednesday Cam graduated from 8th grade at the Computer School. Hunter told her that as a recent high school graduate he observed that her graduation and prom were on the same par as some of the best high school celebrations he has scene. Because the kids all go on to different high schools the middle school graduation is really designed to celebrate the time they had together and to wish them well on their journey forward. I can not say enough about the quality of education and the dedication of the teaching/administration at her middle school. It was the exact opposite of what I had thought an inner city NYC school would be like. The school was bright and well maintained with the most up to date computer equipment and the teaching staff was young and full of new ideas, eager to teach the diverse group of kids.
For the prom Cameron and her friends met at one of the girl's apartments to get ready. Rachel's mother, Barbara, invited parents over to take pictures of the girls before they headed out. Of course, I was as interested in seeing their three bedroom apartment on 157th and Riverside Drive as much as I was in seeing the girls. Ten months ago Cameron started the Computer School knowing no one and here she was with a group of six wonderful girls in a lovely home heading out to celebrate an amazing year. When we moved here my biggest fear was that Cam's school would not be up to par with Colorado schools and she would not make any close friends. The graduation and prom confirmed how unwarranted my fears had been.
After we took the subway with the kids down to their venue the parents headed over to Jessie's parents house, where K and Charlene were waiting with a gorgeous spread of food and wine for the parents as we waited for their return. Charlene and K live in an amazing townhouse. Considering the average size of a New York City apartment their townhouse is huge and a wonderful place to entertain. As diverse as the girls are so go their partents. Of course our common ground was to discuss the girls.: how frustrated we are when they don't call after riding the train to a friend's house, how expensive it is to keep up with open campus lunches in Manhattan, and who was going where for summer vacation (no child stays in the city over the whole summer - hummm? a... what? I guess I need to make some plans for Cam, quick).
Work at "un-named retailer" is bad. Exhausting. Management by intimidation. Anyone who knows me will understand that I do not respond to that and I will not follow in those footsteps. Of course juggling HRPlus and the retail management job is impossible and new structuring at HRPlus is making things change immediately. Stay tuned. For better or worse is yet to be determined.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Moving day?
I think I started my first post with a quote from Dickens "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." Today was just such a day. After almost exactly one year in NYC we are still trying to find our sea legs. I haven't made an entry in months. I have literally been too busy with two jobs to be creative or retrospective. But today was such an insane day that I felt compelled to pour myself a rum and coke and get put the events into my much neglected blog.
I will start with the fun:
Jeff rented a car and drove over to New Jersey to pick up his drums that he has had stored at a friends house for almost a year. Our wonderful friends at church have allowed him to store them at the at the church so that he can have them at hand. So the girls and I enjoyed the luxury of having Jeff drop us off (no walking) at the 72nd Street Marina for lunch. We got an awesome table on the edge of the cafe, perfect for people watching on the Hudson River promenade. We basked in the sun and enjoyed our burgers and Snapples while dissecting the people that strolled, biked, or jogged by. Just before we left Jordan said that she thought the woman sitting at the table next to me was from a news program on television. I glanced at the petite blond woman and gasped, "That is Kristen Chenoweth": The girls and I are huge "Wicked" and "Glee" fans so we are really big fans of hers. I had to fight Cameron for the camera but I won! Just as she was getting up to leave with her male companion I asked her, "Excuse me, would you mind taking our photo?" We had a brief conversation where she revealed her tale-tale voice and she snapped our photo! I think she must have initially thought that we recognized her and wanted our pictures taken with her, but we never let on!
Next we headed up the promenade and came across free kayaking on the Hudson River! FREE! Sweet! We waited for about 20 minutes in a lively line of locals waiting to find some relief from the afternoon heat. What fun! It was the honor system to come back in 20 minutes, although I must admit that we might have pushed the time by a few minutes.
When Jeff got back from New Jersey we rode around in the rental car listening to favorite CD's and enjoying the air conditioning. I do miss having a car, but that is not to say that I'd want a car in the city.
We ended the day at Chirpin Chicken sitting outside and enjoying our neighborhood.
Ok, now the flip side:
We signed our lease for our new apartment on May 1st. We asked our rental broker (brother of the property owner) when we would have access to the apartment. He said, "May-be as early as the 15th but may-be not until the end of the month." On the 20th was contacted him and asked if we could move in on the 29, so that we could have some wiggle room between the two apartments. He responded via text "k". We booked the movers and put down our deposit. On Friday Jeff asked the status of the apartment and if there was anyone we needed to speak to to get more move-in information. Chuck responded "am I not answering your questions sufficiently?"
\
Jeff called Chuck this morning to see what we needed to do to get a key for our move tomorrow. Out of nowhere he said, "You actually need to speak to Jason, the property manager, to get your move-in specifics". JASON? WHO? Last week we asked if there was anyone else that we needed to speak to about our move and he made it sound like we were being paranoid for questioning his authority.
So we call Jason to tell him we have movers set for tomorrow. He informs us that we cannot move in until May 31st because he had made the mistake of letting tenants move their stuff in early and it hampers his renovations. Oh, my god! What? Do you know how hard it is to get a mover on the 31st or the 1st of any month? We are stunned. Speechless. We would never have booked movers if Chuck had not texted back "k". So we cancel the movers and lose our deposit. They don't have another opening until June 5th, so we are back to Yelp for a referral.
So now we are desperate for movers, if we can't move out we have to tell our current landlord who may already have our current unit rented with tenants slated for the 1st or 2nd. I don't need to go on. You get the domino effect.
So.... details of aftermath to follow.
Monday, April 9, 2012
First Easter in New York
I have a lot of conflicting feelings about the Easter holiday. Honestly, I really enjoy it as a Hallmark holiday; dying and hunting eggs, baskets full of chocolates and jelly beans, and a feast with all the trimmings. The kids are now 22, 20, and 14, so I thought this year with all the changes in our lives I would be able to eliminate the baskets. Yesterday Cameron said, "Mom, I sure hope that the Easter Bunny brings me another lamb in my basket this year." The Easter Bunny has given Cam a lamb for the last five or six years. Somehow, I had not realized that it had become "a thing". So not only had I not bought the baskets and all the trimmings I had certainly not sought out a stuffed lamb.
So Saturday on my 30 minute break from "un-named retailer" I was dashing from Duane Reade to CVS Pharmacy looking for Easter basket stuffings. OK, so I'm really late in doing this but I found a noticeable absence of baskets and Easter grass. My dismay and confusion were supported by another shopper who said he had been looking all afternoon for Easter grass, but had come up empty handed. He was from Ohio and we wondered if Easter grass was not a thing here or we were simply too late. I guess we won't find out until next year when we shop earlier. Now to find Cam's annual sheep stuffed animal. Being that I only had 30 minutes to complete this feat you will understand that I was glad to find a sheep at all. It cost 99 cents and I don't think the designer and/or manufacturer has ever seen a sheep. The ears were too low and it had no tail, yet it somehow resembled a sheep more than a bunny, so I purchased it. Luckily, the chocolate bunnies (hollow type) were still in stock and I was able to grab several bags of candy wrapped in pastel foil.
Jeff picked up the egg dying kit, but there were no PAAS to be found so he bought a lesser brand. The dyes were un-even in color, the paint stained our hands, and there were no egg wraps. But we did have a clear crayon to write on our eggs and the stickers were fun so we proceeded in good spirits. I fell asleep long before Jeff and the kids, but Jeff being an awesome Dad hid the eggs in our tiny apartment and filled serving plates with candy and novelty toys as only a seasoned Easter Bunny would know how.
An hour and half before church Jeff and the girls were out the door. Jeff had early practice for choir and the girls were doing one last flag drill practice for the ceremony. The service was inspired and joyful. There was a puppet show that was Sesame Street quality for the children's sermon, choral singing with the city's best chiming in, and fellowship to rival any Bible belt potluck.
On our way to lunch we walked through Riverside Park and smelled the roses. After spending the last 18 springs in the mountains I have to say that I love experiencing real spring time in April.
After church we ended up at an Italian restaurant for lunch. My kitchen is just too small to make a feast. It just does not invite cooking. To make this point, understand that the oven is too small to accommodate a full sized cookie sheet, In NYC ordering fully catered meals from grocery stores and restaurants is the norm. Even Hoda Kope (Kathy Lee and Hoda, NBC) talked at Thanksgiving about ordering her complete meal from Whole Foods.
Jordan had to go to work down in Soho at Sabon, so Jeff, Cameron, and I headed to Central Park. The park was crowded with locals, tourist, and holiday merry makers. We saw several ladies that must have been a part of the Easter Parade on 5th Avenue with fashionably large hats full of flowers or feathers, accompanied by lovely spring coats and impressingly high heels. No, I did not take any photos.
Every day is still a struggle in month 10 of our adventure here in New York City. Today I am celebrating having the day off with my family, having a home to hide eggs in, and belonging to a church community to celebrate this holy season with.
Of course tomorrow is another day. I never claimed to be a Pollyanna. I'm just trying to be thankful when thanks are due.
So Saturday on my 30 minute break from "un-named retailer" I was dashing from Duane Reade to CVS Pharmacy looking for Easter basket stuffings. OK, so I'm really late in doing this but I found a noticeable absence of baskets and Easter grass. My dismay and confusion were supported by another shopper who said he had been looking all afternoon for Easter grass, but had come up empty handed. He was from Ohio and we wondered if Easter grass was not a thing here or we were simply too late. I guess we won't find out until next year when we shop earlier. Now to find Cam's annual sheep stuffed animal. Being that I only had 30 minutes to complete this feat you will understand that I was glad to find a sheep at all. It cost 99 cents and I don't think the designer and/or manufacturer has ever seen a sheep. The ears were too low and it had no tail, yet it somehow resembled a sheep more than a bunny, so I purchased it. Luckily, the chocolate bunnies (hollow type) were still in stock and I was able to grab several bags of candy wrapped in pastel foil.
Jeff picked up the egg dying kit, but there were no PAAS to be found so he bought a lesser brand. The dyes were un-even in color, the paint stained our hands, and there were no egg wraps. But we did have a clear crayon to write on our eggs and the stickers were fun so we proceeded in good spirits. I fell asleep long before Jeff and the kids, but Jeff being an awesome Dad hid the eggs in our tiny apartment and filled serving plates with candy and novelty toys as only a seasoned Easter Bunny would know how. An hour and half before church Jeff and the girls were out the door. Jeff had early practice for choir and the girls were doing one last flag drill practice for the ceremony. The service was inspired and joyful. There was a puppet show that was Sesame Street quality for the children's sermon, choral singing with the city's best chiming in, and fellowship to rival any Bible belt potluck.
On our way to lunch we walked through Riverside Park and smelled the roses. After spending the last 18 springs in the mountains I have to say that I love experiencing real spring time in April.
After church we ended up at an Italian restaurant for lunch. My kitchen is just too small to make a feast. It just does not invite cooking. To make this point, understand that the oven is too small to accommodate a full sized cookie sheet, In NYC ordering fully catered meals from grocery stores and restaurants is the norm. Even Hoda Kope (Kathy Lee and Hoda, NBC) talked at Thanksgiving about ordering her complete meal from Whole Foods.
Jordan had to go to work down in Soho at Sabon, so Jeff, Cameron, and I headed to Central Park. The park was crowded with locals, tourist, and holiday merry makers. We saw several ladies that must have been a part of the Easter Parade on 5th Avenue with fashionably large hats full of flowers or feathers, accompanied by lovely spring coats and impressingly high heels. No, I did not take any photos.
Every day is still a struggle in month 10 of our adventure here in New York City. Today I am celebrating having the day off with my family, having a home to hide eggs in, and belonging to a church community to celebrate this holy season with.
Of course tomorrow is another day. I never claimed to be a Pollyanna. I'm just trying to be thankful when thanks are due.
Monday, April 2, 2012
"Bugsy Malone"
Busy weekend, but a lot of fun!
On Thursday night Cam's middle school play, " Bugsy Malone" opened. I had requested to work days at "un-named retailer" so that I could volunteer for the evening play. This is the type of thing that I love. It's a lot more fun to volunteer and be a part of activities than just to buy a ticket and be a bystander. So, I volunteered to work the bake sale and ended up the popcorn machine expert (think Sky Mall popcorn machine). And it gave me an opportunity to meet other parents, which is something I desperately want to do.
Ok, now I can share some crazy parent stories.
On Friday night when I got there the After School Program Coordinator told me that my partner for the bake sale had called in sick with a fever of 102 F so I would have to work the booth myself until the student volunteers arrived. Ten minutes later a woman was at the bake sale table setting out cookies and cutting bunt cake into slices. She said she had not been feeling well earlier, but wanted to stop by to at least get things organized. WHAT? She called saying she was too sick to work, but somehow she mustered enough energy to come to the show and put her germy hands on all of the cookies and slice cake with her bare hands. That was so wrong.
Another parent is a pastry chef and baked several types of cookies. Yes, they were delicious, but she made special signs to go next to her cookies ($1.50 each) whereas all the other home baked and store bought items were $1.00 each. Hey, these are middle school kids, they don't have discriminating pallets. The $1.00 cookies flew off the table and I was left to reduce the cost of the gourmet cookies after the show trying to get rid of them.
And then there are the helpers who are in denial of the "clean-up". They show up on time and work the bake sale and/or ticket booth, but then after the show they are in a rush to go, leaving what could have been a 10 minute clean-up with a full crew to a 30 minute clean-up for the few hearty souls that stayed behind to finish the job.
No parents volunteered to sponsor the after party, so two days before the show the director sent out a plea for the parents to pull a party together using the school's ballet studio as the party place. So we scrambled to get the party pulled together with one parent donating balloons, the pastry chef volunteering a sheet cake, a variety of parents donating everything from Christmas lights (for mood) to chips and dip, and the usual crew volunteering time and clean-up. It was actually a lot of fun. Being that it was an after party for a school musical you can imagine the party: dancing, musical chairs, and recapping songs from the show. I think the kids all had fun and I got a lot out of it as well.
And of course after three days hanging out with other parents I got the scoop on who is still married, who is divorced and why, what kids and/or parents had meltdown when the high school admissions list were posted, and what families to steer clear of. New York is a huge city broken down into small towns.
Bit by bit, life in New York City is beginning to feel normal. .
On Thursday night Cam's middle school play, " Bugsy Malone" opened. I had requested to work days at "un-named retailer" so that I could volunteer for the evening play. This is the type of thing that I love. It's a lot more fun to volunteer and be a part of activities than just to buy a ticket and be a bystander. So, I volunteered to work the bake sale and ended up the popcorn machine expert (think Sky Mall popcorn machine). And it gave me an opportunity to meet other parents, which is something I desperately want to do.
Ok, now I can share some crazy parent stories.
On Friday night when I got there the After School Program Coordinator told me that my partner for the bake sale had called in sick with a fever of 102 F so I would have to work the booth myself until the student volunteers arrived. Ten minutes later a woman was at the bake sale table setting out cookies and cutting bunt cake into slices. She said she had not been feeling well earlier, but wanted to stop by to at least get things organized. WHAT? She called saying she was too sick to work, but somehow she mustered enough energy to come to the show and put her germy hands on all of the cookies and slice cake with her bare hands. That was so wrong.
Another parent is a pastry chef and baked several types of cookies. Yes, they were delicious, but she made special signs to go next to her cookies ($1.50 each) whereas all the other home baked and store bought items were $1.00 each. Hey, these are middle school kids, they don't have discriminating pallets. The $1.00 cookies flew off the table and I was left to reduce the cost of the gourmet cookies after the show trying to get rid of them.
And then there are the helpers who are in denial of the "clean-up". They show up on time and work the bake sale and/or ticket booth, but then after the show they are in a rush to go, leaving what could have been a 10 minute clean-up with a full crew to a 30 minute clean-up for the few hearty souls that stayed behind to finish the job.
No parents volunteered to sponsor the after party, so two days before the show the director sent out a plea for the parents to pull a party together using the school's ballet studio as the party place. So we scrambled to get the party pulled together with one parent donating balloons, the pastry chef volunteering a sheet cake, a variety of parents donating everything from Christmas lights (for mood) to chips and dip, and the usual crew volunteering time and clean-up. It was actually a lot of fun. Being that it was an after party for a school musical you can imagine the party: dancing, musical chairs, and recapping songs from the show. I think the kids all had fun and I got a lot out of it as well.
And of course after three days hanging out with other parents I got the scoop on who is still married, who is divorced and why, what kids and/or parents had meltdown when the high school admissions list were posted, and what families to steer clear of. New York is a huge city broken down into small towns.
Bit by bit, life in New York City is beginning to feel normal. .
Friday, March 30, 2012
Scooter Mystery
I wrote a blog in December talking about a puffy elf sticker that was put on the cover of our Buddy Scooter. Just as mysteriously as it was put there it was removed in January. Those little puffy stickers have real sticking power, so it had to have been removed, it did not fall off.
Jeff and I have designated days that we are responsible for moving the scooter to the opposite side of the street for street cleaning days. Several times over the last, may-be, six weeks we have asked each other whether or not the other person moved the bike on their non-designated days. Both of us said that we had not done the good deed and we assumed Jordan was the good deed doer. After asking her, we found out that she has not been moving the bike either.
The only problem with this "good deed" is the person moving the bike does not remove the lock, which is a long coiled chain that wraps around the tire, so once they push it to the other side of the street the chain is all curled up in the front tire, which takes quite a bit of time to untangle. Surely, they can feel the drag on the bike when they roll it and realize that the chain is wrapping around the tire.
Over the winter the bike cover has become rather tattered and torn. Two days ago when we went to move the bike to the alternate side of the street we found the cover had been patched up. It's not perfect, but someone took some time and effort to sew it up.
So? Hmmm.... What?
In New York you do not touch people and you do not touch their stuff. So who is this mystery person putting puffy elf stickers on our cover, removing the holiday decal as the seasons change, moving our bike at the risk of busting the tire by wrapping the chain around it, and patching up the tattered cover? Have you ever heard of anything so bizarre?
Jeff and I have designated days that we are responsible for moving the scooter to the opposite side of the street for street cleaning days. Several times over the last, may-be, six weeks we have asked each other whether or not the other person moved the bike on their non-designated days. Both of us said that we had not done the good deed and we assumed Jordan was the good deed doer. After asking her, we found out that she has not been moving the bike either.
The only problem with this "good deed" is the person moving the bike does not remove the lock, which is a long coiled chain that wraps around the tire, so once they push it to the other side of the street the chain is all curled up in the front tire, which takes quite a bit of time to untangle. Surely, they can feel the drag on the bike when they roll it and realize that the chain is wrapping around the tire.
Over the winter the bike cover has become rather tattered and torn. Two days ago when we went to move the bike to the alternate side of the street we found the cover had been patched up. It's not perfect, but someone took some time and effort to sew it up.
So? Hmmm.... What?
In New York you do not touch people and you do not touch their stuff. So who is this mystery person putting puffy elf stickers on our cover, removing the holiday decal as the seasons change, moving our bike at the risk of busting the tire by wrapping the chain around it, and patching up the tattered cover? Have you ever heard of anything so bizarre?
Monday, March 26, 2012
A Typical Sunday (more or less)
I wish I could say that I've been so busy having fun that I forgot to blog. If only... I've been busy working. But I have been informed from those closest to me that I need to write about fun stuff, which is why we moved here in the first place. Hmm.. Ok. Day to day I have fun. In the middle of that day I feel overwhelmed by the long hours of work ahead of me, but then Cameron or Jordan come in and tell a funny story about their day at school, or work or I stand in the middle of Broadway waiting for the walk sign to change and I breathe in the the city that I love. So today I decided to write about a typical Sunday, which is ever changing because sometimes I work and other Sundays I don't. I did not work today. Well, actually I had a sales meeting from 9 a.m. until 11:30 a.m. but I just looked at that as a few hours working that would cover the cost of brunch after church.
So at 9:00 a.m. I'm at "unnamed retailer" meeting learning sales techniques. I'm not sure that I can be trained to do anything besides soft selling. If I walked into a store and two people greeted me and a third asked my name within 10 seconds of entering a store I would do an about face and head for the door. So I took one of the New Jersey bagels that the manager brought and tried to absorbed her expertise.
Next stop, church. My favorite part of church is the Joys and Concerns. The congregation is so diverse that by listening to the joys and concerns of the congregation I am able to be thankful for all my blessings and to feel like I have a pulse on my community. The Joys and Concerns are diverse: prays for a member's grand baby who is having open heart surgery, a gay couple asking for prayers for a friend who has been abandoned by a partner who without the institute of marriage to protect him is now destitute when he is betrayed in his relationship, a member of Occupy Wall Street asking for prayers for those activist who were recently imprisoned after their arrest in Zuccotti Park, a member of the congregation asking for prayers for her call back for America's Got Talent, just to name a few from the past few weeks.Of all of the good things that the city has offered us, this church has given us by far more than we ever would have imagined.
After church Jeff and I headed to PetSmart for cat food and cat liter. The store is on 92nd Street and Broadway. Do you know how heavy cat liter is when you carry if for almost a mile? (Jeff carried it, but I felt his pain. LOL!) We stopped at Cafe 83 for brunch. It's real neighborhood diner with no frills, but lots of characters. We waited for five minutes to squeeze into a booth with our PetSmart purchase and then ordered our brunch. I had a french toast and scrambled eggs with coffee and Jeff had a bacon and cheese omelet with coffee. An old Jewish couple sat next to us reading the Sunday Times in silence, two very old men sat behind us dressed in their mismatched (think stripes and plaids) Sunday best talking over bottomless cups of coffee, and a trendy young couple sat opposite fashionably dressed for summer although the clouds were rolling in reminding us that it is still March.
Cam and several of her friends organized a surprise birthday party for her friend Jessie. I need to acknowledge that AJ was the master mind behind the project and developed an elaborate "Hunger Games" themed party to be played in Riverside Park. I was busy having brunch while the games were going on, but I headed over to Jessie's apartment to participate in the cake cutting and socializing with the other parents. I was highly impressed with how well the whole thing had been executed. The game was a complete success (it was basically an elaborate game of tag using Hunger Game strategies over a 10 block area), the kids all had matching t-shirts, and the food was prepared using the Hunger Games Cookbook. I added a few photos so you can get a glimpse of the fun and the hard work that was put into it!
Jordan and I later headed down to Trader Joe's to do some shopping, filling our granny cart with the groceries for the week, and wine and spaghetti fixin's for the evening's dinner.
We all should have gone to bed early, but after a busy weekend it was so wonderful just vegging out on the couch watching the new season of "Long Island Median" so I don't think I got to bed until after midnight.
Anyway, just a day in the life.
So at 9:00 a.m. I'm at "unnamed retailer" meeting learning sales techniques. I'm not sure that I can be trained to do anything besides soft selling. If I walked into a store and two people greeted me and a third asked my name within 10 seconds of entering a store I would do an about face and head for the door. So I took one of the New Jersey bagels that the manager brought and tried to absorbed her expertise.
Next stop, church. My favorite part of church is the Joys and Concerns. The congregation is so diverse that by listening to the joys and concerns of the congregation I am able to be thankful for all my blessings and to feel like I have a pulse on my community. The Joys and Concerns are diverse: prays for a member's grand baby who is having open heart surgery, a gay couple asking for prayers for a friend who has been abandoned by a partner who without the institute of marriage to protect him is now destitute when he is betrayed in his relationship, a member of Occupy Wall Street asking for prayers for those activist who were recently imprisoned after their arrest in Zuccotti Park, a member of the congregation asking for prayers for her call back for America's Got Talent, just to name a few from the past few weeks.Of all of the good things that the city has offered us, this church has given us by far more than we ever would have imagined.
After church Jeff and I headed to PetSmart for cat food and cat liter. The store is on 92nd Street and Broadway. Do you know how heavy cat liter is when you carry if for almost a mile? (Jeff carried it, but I felt his pain. LOL!) We stopped at Cafe 83 for brunch. It's real neighborhood diner with no frills, but lots of characters. We waited for five minutes to squeeze into a booth with our PetSmart purchase and then ordered our brunch. I had a french toast and scrambled eggs with coffee and Jeff had a bacon and cheese omelet with coffee. An old Jewish couple sat next to us reading the Sunday Times in silence, two very old men sat behind us dressed in their mismatched (think stripes and plaids) Sunday best talking over bottomless cups of coffee, and a trendy young couple sat opposite fashionably dressed for summer although the clouds were rolling in reminding us that it is still March.
Cam and several of her friends organized a surprise birthday party for her friend Jessie. I need to acknowledge that AJ was the master mind behind the project and developed an elaborate "Hunger Games" themed party to be played in Riverside Park. I was busy having brunch while the games were going on, but I headed over to Jessie's apartment to participate in the cake cutting and socializing with the other parents. I was highly impressed with how well the whole thing had been executed. The game was a complete success (it was basically an elaborate game of tag using Hunger Game strategies over a 10 block area), the kids all had matching t-shirts, and the food was prepared using the Hunger Games Cookbook. I added a few photos so you can get a glimpse of the fun and the hard work that was put into it! 
Jordan and I later headed down to Trader Joe's to do some shopping, filling our granny cart with the groceries for the week, and wine and spaghetti fixin's for the evening's dinner.
We all should have gone to bed early, but after a busy weekend it was so wonderful just vegging out on the couch watching the new season of "Long Island Median" so I don't think I got to bed until after midnight.
Anyway, just a day in the life.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Hot Chocolate and Steak Fries
Last night Cameron's middle school had their annual fund raising auction. A friend of mine, Charlene, asked if I wanted to be her date for the event. Her husband had opted to stay home and Jeff was already volunteering as a bartender at the event.
I bought a dress in Denver that I have been saving to wear to the theater. Since the theater is on hold until finances smooth out I pulled it out of the closet to wear to the auction. I'd asked my friend what people would be wearing and she said it would run the gambit. Sure enough there were people in jeans and others dressed for the Academy Awards.
It was the usual school auction fare with bidding on spa packages, vacation condos, and housekeeping services. One thing that they did that I liked was that the teachers had a raffle where students could win an afternoon activity with them. I gave Cam $10 and I think she bought ten raffle tickets to go on a cupcake tour with her English teacher, but she unfortunately did not win. But it's a great way to involve the kids in the event. The teachers at Cam's school are an amazing group of young adults full of creative ideas and dedicated to making school a positive experience for the diverse student body, including volunteering their personal time to fund raise by involving the students.
I'm really tired of getting a glass of wine at a restaurant and getting a Utah portion. The auction was no different. But somewhere in the mix of the evening the meager portions began to add up. One of the student's fathers is an owner at Heartland Brewery and they donated all of the food and wine (I should have had more ribs, but they aren't exactly a social food), so I did eat, but I think the ratio of food to drink was a little out of balance.
Jeff is on call at Accenture this month so he ended up heading home early to fix an obscure "batch" problem. Charlene and I were foot loose and fancy free after the auction ended, so we did the only sane thing and headed to a diner. What is so fastinating about going to a diner late night (after midnight) is how busy these places are. At one point there was not an empty seat in the house. Of course, people looking for a place to sit and chat don't exactly keep tables turning over.
We went to Cafe 83. Last time we were there we stayed for two hours chatting over a cup of morning coffee until they not to subtly asked us to leave by taking away all cups, silverware, and water glasses from the table. This time I ordered hot chocolate and Charlene took the lead as the adult and ordered a cup of tea. After about an hour in I added french fries to the order. Is there anything more delicious after a night drinking and socializing than hot chocolate and steak fries in a neighborhood diner? I think not.
I think I strolled in the door around 1:30 am. which reflected on electronic equipment as 2:30 a.m due to daylight savings time starting that night.. Super fun time on my first girls night out since coming to the city. Long over due, but well worth the wait.
I bought a dress in Denver that I have been saving to wear to the theater. Since the theater is on hold until finances smooth out I pulled it out of the closet to wear to the auction. I'd asked my friend what people would be wearing and she said it would run the gambit. Sure enough there were people in jeans and others dressed for the Academy Awards.
It was the usual school auction fare with bidding on spa packages, vacation condos, and housekeeping services. One thing that they did that I liked was that the teachers had a raffle where students could win an afternoon activity with them. I gave Cam $10 and I think she bought ten raffle tickets to go on a cupcake tour with her English teacher, but she unfortunately did not win. But it's a great way to involve the kids in the event. The teachers at Cam's school are an amazing group of young adults full of creative ideas and dedicated to making school a positive experience for the diverse student body, including volunteering their personal time to fund raise by involving the students.
I'm really tired of getting a glass of wine at a restaurant and getting a Utah portion. The auction was no different. But somewhere in the mix of the evening the meager portions began to add up. One of the student's fathers is an owner at Heartland Brewery and they donated all of the food and wine (I should have had more ribs, but they aren't exactly a social food), so I did eat, but I think the ratio of food to drink was a little out of balance.
Jeff is on call at Accenture this month so he ended up heading home early to fix an obscure "batch" problem. Charlene and I were foot loose and fancy free after the auction ended, so we did the only sane thing and headed to a diner. What is so fastinating about going to a diner late night (after midnight) is how busy these places are. At one point there was not an empty seat in the house. Of course, people looking for a place to sit and chat don't exactly keep tables turning over.
We went to Cafe 83. Last time we were there we stayed for two hours chatting over a cup of morning coffee until they not to subtly asked us to leave by taking away all cups, silverware, and water glasses from the table. This time I ordered hot chocolate and Charlene took the lead as the adult and ordered a cup of tea. After about an hour in I added french fries to the order. Is there anything more delicious after a night drinking and socializing than hot chocolate and steak fries in a neighborhood diner? I think not.
I think I strolled in the door around 1:30 am. which reflected on electronic equipment as 2:30 a.m due to daylight savings time starting that night.. Super fun time on my first girls night out since coming to the city. Long over due, but well worth the wait.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Escape Clauses
Cameron has an escape clause in our adventure in New York City. We told her when we left Evergreen that we would move to New York City for two years. If after two years she wants to go back to Colorado to complete high school we would go, but if we love the city we will stay so that she can complete her high school at the much sought after school she has been accepted to.
This may sound like a "whine fest", so if you're not up for it I'll understand you x-ing out now.
Our staying in New York has hinged on two things: one - me getting a job so that we could afford to stay, and two - Cam getting into a high school that would give her a an equal or greater education than her opportunity in Evergreen. I got a job in January after six months of job hunting and Cameron got her acceptance into one of the best high schools in Manhattan. So, now it's February and we are committed to staying until at least June 2013.
Now the whining begins.
Living in New York is hard. And it's hard to explain why. It could be the masses, the cost, and/or the walking. It's a very physical life with a hell of a lot of personal interaction. Be direct, but do not touch.
Yesterday, at (employer unnamed), I approached a woman who had the company catalogue in hand. She was a small, older woman with a walker and assisted by a home health aide. She said she had marked the pages of the items she was interested in and needed help finding them in the store. I was very busy. I explained that I would help her as soon as I finished helping another customer. She shouted that she wanted attention immediately and that I needed to stop being "so cheerful." Do you know how exhausting it is to live among people who consider "being too cheerful" to be annoying?
We moved here in June. Cameron has been to Missouri to visit family and she has been to Colorado for winter break. Jordan has been back to Colorado twice. Hunter has visited NYC three times and resides in beautiful, Denver, CO. Jeff has been to Detroit for business purposes three times (OK, it's Detroit, but he's staying in spacious hotel rooms and driving a car). I have been out of the city one weekend up to Woodstock in October with Cam and Jeff. I'm exhausted. I would love to see the sky and to sleep in a bed that is not on stilts.
I have been working seven days a week since late January. I cannot afford to quit my telecommuting job at HRPlus until I know that my job at (un-named employer) is secured. Not to mention the months of unpaid bills that have piled up and need to be paid. The other night I came home from work and began my telecommuting job. I was working towards a 13 hour day. Dinner had not been bought or decided upon. Jeff wanted to go out for dinner. I said I had too much work ahead of me to take time out for a dinner at a restaurant. He was frustrated and proclaimed that I was not much of a "mother or wife" working two jobs.
Silence.
Jordan told me that she told him, "Uh mm... Dad, I'm not sure that was the best thing to say to Mom at this point."
I guess I kept at the back of my mind that if Cam did not get into a choice high school we would move back to Evergreen. With the odds against us and Cam's overall awesomeness in her favor the chances of getting into one of New York's City's prestigious high schools was a toss up. Cameron's awesomeness prevailed.
After just seven months I'm tired. My brother is getting married in May in St. Louis and it will be a perfect opportunity to get away. I'm doing everything I can to reach that long weekend get away.
I'm not sure what escape clause I would have written in for myself, but I certainly think I over looked the option when we moved here.
So....
This may sound like a "whine fest", so if you're not up for it I'll understand you x-ing out now.
Our staying in New York has hinged on two things: one - me getting a job so that we could afford to stay, and two - Cam getting into a high school that would give her a an equal or greater education than her opportunity in Evergreen. I got a job in January after six months of job hunting and Cameron got her acceptance into one of the best high schools in Manhattan. So, now it's February and we are committed to staying until at least June 2013.
Now the whining begins.
Living in New York is hard. And it's hard to explain why. It could be the masses, the cost, and/or the walking. It's a very physical life with a hell of a lot of personal interaction. Be direct, but do not touch.
Yesterday, at (employer unnamed), I approached a woman who had the company catalogue in hand. She was a small, older woman with a walker and assisted by a home health aide. She said she had marked the pages of the items she was interested in and needed help finding them in the store. I was very busy. I explained that I would help her as soon as I finished helping another customer. She shouted that she wanted attention immediately and that I needed to stop being "so cheerful." Do you know how exhausting it is to live among people who consider "being too cheerful" to be annoying?
We moved here in June. Cameron has been to Missouri to visit family and she has been to Colorado for winter break. Jordan has been back to Colorado twice. Hunter has visited NYC three times and resides in beautiful, Denver, CO. Jeff has been to Detroit for business purposes three times (OK, it's Detroit, but he's staying in spacious hotel rooms and driving a car). I have been out of the city one weekend up to Woodstock in October with Cam and Jeff. I'm exhausted. I would love to see the sky and to sleep in a bed that is not on stilts.
I have been working seven days a week since late January. I cannot afford to quit my telecommuting job at HRPlus until I know that my job at (un-named employer) is secured. Not to mention the months of unpaid bills that have piled up and need to be paid. The other night I came home from work and began my telecommuting job. I was working towards a 13 hour day. Dinner had not been bought or decided upon. Jeff wanted to go out for dinner. I said I had too much work ahead of me to take time out for a dinner at a restaurant. He was frustrated and proclaimed that I was not much of a "mother or wife" working two jobs.
Silence.
Jordan told me that she told him, "Uh mm... Dad, I'm not sure that was the best thing to say to Mom at this point."
I guess I kept at the back of my mind that if Cam did not get into a choice high school we would move back to Evergreen. With the odds against us and Cam's overall awesomeness in her favor the chances of getting into one of New York's City's prestigious high schools was a toss up. Cameron's awesomeness prevailed.
After just seven months I'm tired. My brother is getting married in May in St. Louis and it will be a perfect opportunity to get away. I'm doing everything I can to reach that long weekend get away.
I'm not sure what escape clause I would have written in for myself, but I certainly think I over looked the option when we moved here.
So....
Friday, March 2, 2012
There Is No "Neighborhood" High School
When Cameron came home from her first day of school this fall she said, " I need a tutor." I had just assumed that we would enroll Cameron in the the high school that best suited her interest, but preparing for the HSSAT was just the beginning of the rigorous autumn ahead gearing up for the high school application process. Eight grade students are encouraged to go to each high school's open house to understand the schools curriculum and enrollment criteria. By the end of November she had been to enough open house to make her head spin. In short the 13 year old student is supposed to chose a path of interest that could potentially set them on a journey of early success, but just as easily head them in a direction that has nothing to do with interest that they may (and most likely will) develop as they grow more mature.
We live in one of the most sought after neighborhoods in Manhattan. The cost of our rent in a tiny pre-war, two bedroom is testament to that. One would then think that the neighborhood schools would be ideal. I'm not even sure that there is a neighborhood school, and if there is, you wouldn't want your child to go there. Manhattan high schools consist of a large number of charters schools and students test, audition, and interview to get into their choice school.
I have long given up the story of how I diligently pursued the perfect middle school for Cameron from Colorado. Now I give her attendance at the Computer School, three blocks from our house as divine intervention. Kids in New York City go through this admissions process for elementary, middle and high school. By the time they apply to college they are are old pros. Somehow we bypassed the middle school process by moving here in the middle of the summer and one student's family moved unexpectedly making one slot available. Right time, right place? I don't know, but from what I know now it had nothing to do with me.
Cameron loves musical theater and she has also had an interest in being a doctor. So put herself out there and tested for Bronx Science and Lehman College, she auditioned for High School of Performing Arts and Laguardia Arts, and she interviewed and wrote essays for Beacon and Eleanor Roosevelt. She covered all of her bases. Then the long winter wait began.
More than going to a great middle school Cameron has met wonderful friends at the school. There are six girls in Cameron's close knit group of friends and they have embraced her as if she had gone to school with the since Kindergarten. The dream was that they would all go to Laguardia Arts together, some for acting, others for singing, and others for art/design. Cam's biggest fear was that they would all get in and she would not.. Moving Cameron to NYC was a huge risk on our part because she had so many good friends back home in Evergreen, but she has really flourished socially. Of course, unless they all go to school together next year she is back in the mix as a new kid. That being said, the way the system works all freshman, for the most part, are new kids.
Yesterday was finally the day that the kids were given their acceptance letter. Worse case scenario you don't get picked up by any of your first choice schools and you begin round two with schools that still have availability, which basically means the schools that no one else wanted are still looking to fill spaces. To say the best schools are competitive is an understatement. Laguardia Arts had 14,000 student (yes, the number is correct) apply for 500 spots and Beacon had 4,000 student apply for 250. The kids were instructed by the school counselors to go directly home and to open their letters with their parents. Cameron came directly home. We opened the letter.: No Laguardia Arts. The tears started and turned into sobs. But Jeff and I were thrilled, she has been accepted into Beacon, which is a wonderful school offering a well-rounded liberal arts education, so she can get what she needs if she wants to pursue medical school and she can participate in theater arts classes if she wants to make a career on the Great White Way.
None of her friends got into LaGuardia, although they all did get one of their first round choices, but none of them are going to school together. I'm sure I will get an ear full when she gets home from school today about who is going where and stories of despairs. Last night on Facebook she posted that she got into Beacon (her disappointment over Laguardia had faded) and one girl responded "at least one of your high school choices wanted you. :( " I would not have wanted to be in that house last night.
And so the adventure continues. One more year ahead of us in NYC. Cam is still holding onto her two year escape clause just in case she "hates" Beacon.
We live in one of the most sought after neighborhoods in Manhattan. The cost of our rent in a tiny pre-war, two bedroom is testament to that. One would then think that the neighborhood schools would be ideal. I'm not even sure that there is a neighborhood school, and if there is, you wouldn't want your child to go there. Manhattan high schools consist of a large number of charters schools and students test, audition, and interview to get into their choice school.
I have long given up the story of how I diligently pursued the perfect middle school for Cameron from Colorado. Now I give her attendance at the Computer School, three blocks from our house as divine intervention. Kids in New York City go through this admissions process for elementary, middle and high school. By the time they apply to college they are are old pros. Somehow we bypassed the middle school process by moving here in the middle of the summer and one student's family moved unexpectedly making one slot available. Right time, right place? I don't know, but from what I know now it had nothing to do with me.
Cameron loves musical theater and she has also had an interest in being a doctor. So put herself out there and tested for Bronx Science and Lehman College, she auditioned for High School of Performing Arts and Laguardia Arts, and she interviewed and wrote essays for Beacon and Eleanor Roosevelt. She covered all of her bases. Then the long winter wait began.
More than going to a great middle school Cameron has met wonderful friends at the school. There are six girls in Cameron's close knit group of friends and they have embraced her as if she had gone to school with the since Kindergarten. The dream was that they would all go to Laguardia Arts together, some for acting, others for singing, and others for art/design. Cam's biggest fear was that they would all get in and she would not.. Moving Cameron to NYC was a huge risk on our part because she had so many good friends back home in Evergreen, but she has really flourished socially. Of course, unless they all go to school together next year she is back in the mix as a new kid. That being said, the way the system works all freshman, for the most part, are new kids.
Yesterday was finally the day that the kids were given their acceptance letter. Worse case scenario you don't get picked up by any of your first choice schools and you begin round two with schools that still have availability, which basically means the schools that no one else wanted are still looking to fill spaces. To say the best schools are competitive is an understatement. Laguardia Arts had 14,000 student (yes, the number is correct) apply for 500 spots and Beacon had 4,000 student apply for 250. The kids were instructed by the school counselors to go directly home and to open their letters with their parents. Cameron came directly home. We opened the letter.: No Laguardia Arts. The tears started and turned into sobs. But Jeff and I were thrilled, she has been accepted into Beacon, which is a wonderful school offering a well-rounded liberal arts education, so she can get what she needs if she wants to pursue medical school and she can participate in theater arts classes if she wants to make a career on the Great White Way.
None of her friends got into LaGuardia, although they all did get one of their first round choices, but none of them are going to school together. I'm sure I will get an ear full when she gets home from school today about who is going where and stories of despairs. Last night on Facebook she posted that she got into Beacon (her disappointment over Laguardia had faded) and one girl responded "at least one of your high school choices wanted you. :( " I would not have wanted to be in that house last night.
And so the adventure continues. One more year ahead of us in NYC. Cam is still holding onto her two year escape clause just in case she "hates" Beacon.
Friday, February 24, 2012
It's Always Darkest Befrore the Dawn, but how dark does it have to get?
The saying is "it's always darkest before the dawn", but the catch is that you may not realize that you are not quite aware of how dark, dark can be.
I'm not going to tell you what retailer I am currently employed by for two reasons. First of all, all companies have their unique cultures and who am I to second guess the workings of the successful business and second of all I honestly don't think anyone has anything against me personally. But, with that said.... I am feeling so over my head in this job and I am not stupid, so something is amiss.
I have been working for the company for three weeks. Today was payday. The "training manager" did not take my direct deposit information until the Friday of the first week of training. Hence, my pay period was delayed. So I will have worked for the company for almost five weeks by the time I receive my first "biweekly" paycheck.
This is the type of success story that is only resonates the first time you hear it, so friends that have already heard the story please indulge me one more time. When my mom was visiting a few weeks ago we had gone to a Wednesday night church service, I had misunderstood and in fact the Wednesday night services were only being held for the Advent season. After months of job searching and being turned down for yet another job I really needed a Wednesday night service to re-energize. The fact that there was no service just added insult to injury.
On our way home we were waiting at a corner for the crosswalk light to change next to a store where my mom traditionally buys me a Christmas gift certificate. Jokingly I said to my mom, "Oh, look, it's my beloved ?????. I wonder if they are hiring?" The woman standing at the crosswalk next to us said, "What did you say?" I replied, "My beloved ?????." She said , "No, the other thing." I replied, "I wonder if they are hiring?" She responded, "Yes! We are". Due to a major plumbing issue flood the district manager was at her Broadway store late that night and had stepped out to get a Starbucks. I have no idea what she saw in me, but she urged me to stop by the store the next day to pick up an application. An application and two interviews later I was hired.
I was hired as a Sales Lead. Anyone who know me knows that I can talk to anyone, so retail sales in an upscale boutique and coaching a team of sales associates actually sounds like a nice fit. Unfortunately this particular store has been missing a manager for quite some time and as soon as I was hired one of the two assistant managers gave her two weeks notice. So they needed someone to hit the floor running. To say I was, and am not currently, up to speed is an understatement. Sales analysis and forecasting are completely foreign skills to me. The current acting manager (she is currently being borrowed from a New Jersey store) is over worked and under a lot of pressure to turn the store numbers around. To say she is underwhelmed by my lack of retail knowledgee is an understatement. But at this point they need a body who can open and close the store and I"m it. After two weeks I was (am) opening and closing the Upper West Side store without so much as a "nice job" and being critzized along the way for not knwoing what I simply have never been taught. And don't say that being shown something on that damned computer one time is something that I am actually suppossed to retain. Honestly, I don't know what the hiring manager was thinking hiring me, but since she did a kind word from the management team would be nice.
Commission sales and the lack of team spirit, complex cash registers, hobby shoppers, NEVER MIND. These subjects need a seperate blog.
After seven months of job searching I've finally found a job. It's part-time with no benefits and part-time hours. That means that I still have to keep my telecommuting job and balance the new retail job with all of it's demands. It's a stop gap. I will either flourish or.... (we won't go there). But this past week I worked 60 hours between the two jobs. I feel more like a jack of all trades and master of none. So, it's always darkest before the dawn, but at some point the sun has to rise. Right?
I'm not going to tell you what retailer I am currently employed by for two reasons. First of all, all companies have their unique cultures and who am I to second guess the workings of the successful business and second of all I honestly don't think anyone has anything against me personally. But, with that said.... I am feeling so over my head in this job and I am not stupid, so something is amiss.
I have been working for the company for three weeks. Today was payday. The "training manager" did not take my direct deposit information until the Friday of the first week of training. Hence, my pay period was delayed. So I will have worked for the company for almost five weeks by the time I receive my first "biweekly" paycheck.
This is the type of success story that is only resonates the first time you hear it, so friends that have already heard the story please indulge me one more time. When my mom was visiting a few weeks ago we had gone to a Wednesday night church service, I had misunderstood and in fact the Wednesday night services were only being held for the Advent season. After months of job searching and being turned down for yet another job I really needed a Wednesday night service to re-energize. The fact that there was no service just added insult to injury.
On our way home we were waiting at a corner for the crosswalk light to change next to a store where my mom traditionally buys me a Christmas gift certificate. Jokingly I said to my mom, "Oh, look, it's my beloved ?????. I wonder if they are hiring?" The woman standing at the crosswalk next to us said, "What did you say?" I replied, "My beloved ?????." She said , "No, the other thing." I replied, "I wonder if they are hiring?" She responded, "Yes! We are". Due to a major plumbing issue flood the district manager was at her Broadway store late that night and had stepped out to get a Starbucks. I have no idea what she saw in me, but she urged me to stop by the store the next day to pick up an application. An application and two interviews later I was hired.
I was hired as a Sales Lead. Anyone who know me knows that I can talk to anyone, so retail sales in an upscale boutique and coaching a team of sales associates actually sounds like a nice fit. Unfortunately this particular store has been missing a manager for quite some time and as soon as I was hired one of the two assistant managers gave her two weeks notice. So they needed someone to hit the floor running. To say I was, and am not currently, up to speed is an understatement. Sales analysis and forecasting are completely foreign skills to me. The current acting manager (she is currently being borrowed from a New Jersey store) is over worked and under a lot of pressure to turn the store numbers around. To say she is underwhelmed by my lack of retail knowledgee is an understatement. But at this point they need a body who can open and close the store and I"m it. After two weeks I was (am) opening and closing the Upper West Side store without so much as a "nice job" and being critzized along the way for not knwoing what I simply have never been taught. And don't say that being shown something on that damned computer one time is something that I am actually suppossed to retain. Honestly, I don't know what the hiring manager was thinking hiring me, but since she did a kind word from the management team would be nice.
Commission sales and the lack of team spirit, complex cash registers, hobby shoppers, NEVER MIND. These subjects need a seperate blog.
After seven months of job searching I've finally found a job. It's part-time with no benefits and part-time hours. That means that I still have to keep my telecommuting job and balance the new retail job with all of it's demands. It's a stop gap. I will either flourish or.... (we won't go there). But this past week I worked 60 hours between the two jobs. I feel more like a jack of all trades and master of none. So, it's always darkest before the dawn, but at some point the sun has to rise. Right?
Monday, January 30, 2012
Jersey - What a trip!
After searching for a job for seven months I finally found a position that I really think I can enjoy and excel in! Only part-time in retail, but I hope to dazzle them with my mad skills and get a full time position when it becomes available. Because it is supervisory position I had to have specific training that was only available in a store in New Jersey. As the crow flies it was only 16 miles from Manhattan, but as a New Jersey transit buses go it was almost two hours EACH way.
My first day I had to be there by 8:00 a.m., which meant I needed to leave the house by 5:30 a.m. to catch the subway to the Port Authority Bus Terminal. When you go to Penn Station to catch a train there is a giant board that give destinations,, departure times, and gates, not so at the bus station. I had to wait for the ticket booth to open, (only one window opened at 6 a.m) pray that the long line went quickly to ask an agent what my gate was, and make a mad dash for it.
For the first couple of days I wondered why so many Hispanic workers were leaving the city to go to New Jersey for work. I day or so later I had an "ah, ha" moment and realized that they were workers going home after a graveyard shift. The late afternoon bus back to the city had the same people heading into the city to begin that shift.
On all the movies they show the view of Manhattan from Brooklyn Heights, but I found out that the real view is from the New Jersey side. After coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel the bus would wind it's way through Jersey City dropping off it's weary passengers on their sleepy walks through their neighborhoods revealing the wonderful view of Manhattan from the The World Trade Tower being resurrected to the south, the Chelsea Peers protruding into the Hudson, and the Trump Residential Towers marking the Upper West Side. I've heard that you can see Time Square from space and I used to wonder about that. But from the Jersey side I had a view of the West Side of Manhattan. There was a strange neon flashing coming from the core of midtown west. Because it was from a distance I wasn't sure what it was at first, but then when I realized how far I was away from the city I was stunned by the intensity of the light.
Every bus ride I would sit down behind the driver and put my bag in the seat next to me to keep anyone from sitting next to me. The bus was never full so don't think I'm a total jerk, but with two hours ahead of me the last thing I wanted was to have to make conversation with someone.
A variety of characters rode this bus. There was the snoring man who got on in Manhattan and snored his way for two hours to Westwood, the woman who boarded with her two preschool sons for a local ride to spend the entire 15 minutes on the bus telling them (loudly) that only adults were allowed to push the button to request a stop, and the Asian teenager who argued on her cell phone in Chinese with her mother only to call her friend to tell her (and everyone else on the bus) in English everything her mother had said.
After four days on the bus I was on my way back to the city on Friday afternoon. (I had Wednesday off, if you I wondering how I got four out of five day week). I wasn't really tired and riding in the seat behind the driver gives a limited view, so I decided to be bold and sit in the very front seat across from the driver. I put my purse next to me and hoped that I could enjoy the ride home enjoying the view. I don't even think we had been on the bus for 10 minutes before a young man asked if he could sit next to me. After sitting down he asked the driver "What time are we scheduled to get into Manhattan?" Ugh.. I was going to have a seatmate all the way into the city.
At first all he did was play Temple Run on his Ipod, which was irritating because he had the volume up and there was the annoying sound of chattering monkeys every time he lost (which seemed to be quite often). Out of nowhere he said "You know you look like that mom from that 1990's show "Growing Pains", Joanna Kerns." It was a strange comment, but I took it as a compliment. He then began to ask me why I was going into Manhattan. Needless to say I had to return the question. What a mistake. I had an hour and a half of him telling me about his eBay sales of limited addition tennis shoes. He also had photos on his phone of all the shoes in his inventory along with stories on how he obtained the shoes through conventions, standing in long lines for releases, and trading with private dealers. When the traffic into the Lincoln Tunnel was nothing more than a parking lot due to a stalled car in the tunnel I wanted to tell him that I'd been up since 5:30 and I just wanted to take a nap, but he would interject just enough questions to keep it a conversation instead of a monologue so I didn't have the heart to say anything.
If nothing else my hair and my face can't take the commute. The hair and make-up that looks good at 5:30 a.m. in my apartment has transformed to bed-head after falling asleep against a foggy bus window and the 9:00 a.m. face is completely different than the pre-dawn face that I made-up hours before. Thank goodness my training is over and my real commute is only three blocks away from my apartment, but I actually learned more than I ever imagined about commuting and those who are brave enough to do it.
My first day I had to be there by 8:00 a.m., which meant I needed to leave the house by 5:30 a.m. to catch the subway to the Port Authority Bus Terminal. When you go to Penn Station to catch a train there is a giant board that give destinations,, departure times, and gates, not so at the bus station. I had to wait for the ticket booth to open, (only one window opened at 6 a.m) pray that the long line went quickly to ask an agent what my gate was, and make a mad dash for it. For the first couple of days I wondered why so many Hispanic workers were leaving the city to go to New Jersey for work. I day or so later I had an "ah, ha" moment and realized that they were workers going home after a graveyard shift. The late afternoon bus back to the city had the same people heading into the city to begin that shift.
On all the movies they show the view of Manhattan from Brooklyn Heights, but I found out that the real view is from the New Jersey side. After coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel the bus would wind it's way through Jersey City dropping off it's weary passengers on their sleepy walks through their neighborhoods revealing the wonderful view of Manhattan from the The World Trade Tower being resurrected to the south, the Chelsea Peers protruding into the Hudson, and the Trump Residential Towers marking the Upper West Side. I've heard that you can see Time Square from space and I used to wonder about that. But from the Jersey side I had a view of the West Side of Manhattan. There was a strange neon flashing coming from the core of midtown west. Because it was from a distance I wasn't sure what it was at first, but then when I realized how far I was away from the city I was stunned by the intensity of the light.
Once I reached my destination in Westwood I was let off into a sleepy little downtown quietly waking up. Yellow school buses kept traffic paced, shop keepers began to open up their doors, and commuter trains whistled through intersections. I would stop at Goldberg's Bagels to grab a cup of coffee and walk the two baby sized blocks to the boutique for work. Everything there seemed normal, yet so strange after not leaving Manhattan for seven months. The two story buildings revealed the sky above without having to crane my neck, no WALK signs were needed to cross the street, and there was literally no one on the sidewalk and it was 9:00 a.m. Relaxing and a little lonely at the same time.
Every bus ride I would sit down behind the driver and put my bag in the seat next to me to keep anyone from sitting next to me. The bus was never full so don't think I'm a total jerk, but with two hours ahead of me the last thing I wanted was to have to make conversation with someone.
A variety of characters rode this bus. There was the snoring man who got on in Manhattan and snored his way for two hours to Westwood, the woman who boarded with her two preschool sons for a local ride to spend the entire 15 minutes on the bus telling them (loudly) that only adults were allowed to push the button to request a stop, and the Asian teenager who argued on her cell phone in Chinese with her mother only to call her friend to tell her (and everyone else on the bus) in English everything her mother had said. After four days on the bus I was on my way back to the city on Friday afternoon. (I had Wednesday off, if you I wondering how I got four out of five day week). I wasn't really tired and riding in the seat behind the driver gives a limited view, so I decided to be bold and sit in the very front seat across from the driver. I put my purse next to me and hoped that I could enjoy the ride home enjoying the view. I don't even think we had been on the bus for 10 minutes before a young man asked if he could sit next to me. After sitting down he asked the driver "What time are we scheduled to get into Manhattan?" Ugh.. I was going to have a seatmate all the way into the city.
At first all he did was play Temple Run on his Ipod, which was irritating because he had the volume up and there was the annoying sound of chattering monkeys every time he lost (which seemed to be quite often). Out of nowhere he said "You know you look like that mom from that 1990's show "Growing Pains", Joanna Kerns." It was a strange comment, but I took it as a compliment. He then began to ask me why I was going into Manhattan. Needless to say I had to return the question. What a mistake. I had an hour and a half of him telling me about his eBay sales of limited addition tennis shoes. He also had photos on his phone of all the shoes in his inventory along with stories on how he obtained the shoes through conventions, standing in long lines for releases, and trading with private dealers. When the traffic into the Lincoln Tunnel was nothing more than a parking lot due to a stalled car in the tunnel I wanted to tell him that I'd been up since 5:30 and I just wanted to take a nap, but he would interject just enough questions to keep it a conversation instead of a monologue so I didn't have the heart to say anything.
If nothing else my hair and my face can't take the commute. The hair and make-up that looks good at 5:30 a.m. in my apartment has transformed to bed-head after falling asleep against a foggy bus window and the 9:00 a.m. face is completely different than the pre-dawn face that I made-up hours before. Thank goodness my training is over and my real commute is only three blocks away from my apartment, but I actually learned more than I ever imagined about commuting and those who are brave enough to do it.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Paranormal and the Jedi Knights
I hope I am not naive when I suggest that the "meet-up group" is unique to New York City.
Jordan actually was the first person to join a meet-up a few months ago. She found one where people interested in practicing their Japanese language skills would meet to only speak in Japanese. She had joined their website and RSVP'ed to the meet-up date, but when she had to cancel later than the 24 hour window allowed because she got called into work they booted her out of the group. Harsh.
She also joined a meet-up for anime. If you know anything about this genre you will understand my concern for her going to this meeting. Once you have joined the meet-up group online you are able to see who has accepted the invitation for the next meeting. In this case Jordan said the members that had RSVP'ed were seven men all above the ages of 40 years old. I asked her if she really thought 40 year old men would be there to discuss Miyazaki's latest films or would they more likely be there to discuss anime commonly seen on Adult Swim. At 22 she does not have to listen to her mother, but in this case I'm glad she did.
One of the things that I had looked forward to in finding a job was making new friends. In November with no job prospects in-sight I decided to find a meet-up group where I might meet some people with a common interest. Since our adventures at the Stanley Hotel last winter I have had a renewed interest in the paranormal so I searched for a NYC Ghost Hunters Meet-Up.
My first meet-up with the group was in November. It was a lively group with everyone eager to go around the table and to introduce themselves and to share a paranormal experience. I was very excited when a self professed psychic said that when I walked into the restaurant she whispered to her husband that she saw that I had a spirit attached to me. Spooky, but all in all it was a lot of fun.
This month it was a little different if for no other reason than Jordan decided to come with me. There were not as many people so everyone had an opportunity to talk a little more.
BUT... there was this one kid (and I say "kid" because he was in his 20's and socially immature) who had to interject his own story on top of everyone else's experience. Ok, so maybe he has some disorder and I'm dismissing him as annoying, but I don't care. It was driving me crazy.
Another interesting character was the group's resident psychic named Victor, but he dismissed some people like John Edwards who I actually like, so that turned me off a bit and he started talking about UFO's which I just don't see the connection between ghost and ET. He was nice and interesting, but he is no Chip Coffee (host of Paranormal Kids).
There was a beautiful Hispanic girl named Isis who was there for the first time. She had some very interesting stories, but her voice was so soft that I thought I was listening to Janet Jackson.
The most ditrubing new face was Salvador. He is a member of the ghost hunting team, although I wasn't ever able to catch what his skills are and he did not share any experiences. When he first walked in he looked directly at me and we had an extended eye contact. I am not making that up because Jordan confirmed it to me after the meeting. I've always wondered if a psychic or an intuitive sees a negative aura around a person do they tell the stranger or do they just walk away. The fact that his eyes locked on me when he first walked in but he never spoke to me afterwards totally spooked me out.
Last month I thought the leader of the group, Dom, was kind of weird and bossy, but he seemed to have eyes for Jordan, so this time he was all smiles and light, which made him much more palatable. I admit that I can be (on occasion) bossy, so maybe I saw myself in him. But this time I quite enjoyed his tales of ghost hunting, including a large number of stories of lonely people who contact the Paranormal Society looking for someone to come to their house for a brief exchange of companionship.
To add to the absurdity of the evening, half way through our two hour meeting another meet-up group comes in. For some reason the Skylight Diner on West 34th Street is the most popular spot for a wide variety of groups. So at nine o'clock a large group begins to arrive. Dom said, "Oh, no I forgot. Tonight the Jedi Knight meet-up group is having their gathering.." When he said that I immediately visualized a troop of Star Wars nerds filling the place. It was so strangely the opposite. I think the criteria to be in the group was not only a love for Star Wars, but to be between the ages of 21 and 30, gay, and gorgeous. It was like being at an Abercrombie & Fitch staff meeting.
But this is what I love about New York. On a Monday night in January at a diner off the beaten path you can get a crazy collection of New Yorkers out to meet and to be met. Pick your interest. I'm sure there is a meet-up group for you.
Jordan actually was the first person to join a meet-up a few months ago. She found one where people interested in practicing their Japanese language skills would meet to only speak in Japanese. She had joined their website and RSVP'ed to the meet-up date, but when she had to cancel later than the 24 hour window allowed because she got called into work they booted her out of the group. Harsh.
She also joined a meet-up for anime. If you know anything about this genre you will understand my concern for her going to this meeting. Once you have joined the meet-up group online you are able to see who has accepted the invitation for the next meeting. In this case Jordan said the members that had RSVP'ed were seven men all above the ages of 40 years old. I asked her if she really thought 40 year old men would be there to discuss Miyazaki's latest films or would they more likely be there to discuss anime commonly seen on Adult Swim. At 22 she does not have to listen to her mother, but in this case I'm glad she did.
One of the things that I had looked forward to in finding a job was making new friends. In November with no job prospects in-sight I decided to find a meet-up group where I might meet some people with a common interest. Since our adventures at the Stanley Hotel last winter I have had a renewed interest in the paranormal so I searched for a NYC Ghost Hunters Meet-Up.
My first meet-up with the group was in November. It was a lively group with everyone eager to go around the table and to introduce themselves and to share a paranormal experience. I was very excited when a self professed psychic said that when I walked into the restaurant she whispered to her husband that she saw that I had a spirit attached to me. Spooky, but all in all it was a lot of fun.
This month it was a little different if for no other reason than Jordan decided to come with me. There were not as many people so everyone had an opportunity to talk a little more.
BUT... there was this one kid (and I say "kid" because he was in his 20's and socially immature) who had to interject his own story on top of everyone else's experience. Ok, so maybe he has some disorder and I'm dismissing him as annoying, but I don't care. It was driving me crazy.
Another interesting character was the group's resident psychic named Victor, but he dismissed some people like John Edwards who I actually like, so that turned me off a bit and he started talking about UFO's which I just don't see the connection between ghost and ET. He was nice and interesting, but he is no Chip Coffee (host of Paranormal Kids).
There was a beautiful Hispanic girl named Isis who was there for the first time. She had some very interesting stories, but her voice was so soft that I thought I was listening to Janet Jackson.
The most ditrubing new face was Salvador. He is a member of the ghost hunting team, although I wasn't ever able to catch what his skills are and he did not share any experiences. When he first walked in he looked directly at me and we had an extended eye contact. I am not making that up because Jordan confirmed it to me after the meeting. I've always wondered if a psychic or an intuitive sees a negative aura around a person do they tell the stranger or do they just walk away. The fact that his eyes locked on me when he first walked in but he never spoke to me afterwards totally spooked me out.
Last month I thought the leader of the group, Dom, was kind of weird and bossy, but he seemed to have eyes for Jordan, so this time he was all smiles and light, which made him much more palatable. I admit that I can be (on occasion) bossy, so maybe I saw myself in him. But this time I quite enjoyed his tales of ghost hunting, including a large number of stories of lonely people who contact the Paranormal Society looking for someone to come to their house for a brief exchange of companionship.
Please visualize that over the course of the evening I am kicking Jordan under the table whenever anyone says anything that I think is weird or I disagree with, which was almost the whole time.
To add to the absurdity of the evening, half way through our two hour meeting another meet-up group comes in. For some reason the Skylight Diner on West 34th Street is the most popular spot for a wide variety of groups. So at nine o'clock a large group begins to arrive. Dom said, "Oh, no I forgot. Tonight the Jedi Knight meet-up group is having their gathering.." When he said that I immediately visualized a troop of Star Wars nerds filling the place. It was so strangely the opposite. I think the criteria to be in the group was not only a love for Star Wars, but to be between the ages of 21 and 30, gay, and gorgeous. It was like being at an Abercrombie & Fitch staff meeting.But this is what I love about New York. On a Monday night in January at a diner off the beaten path you can get a crazy collection of New Yorkers out to meet and to be met. Pick your interest. I'm sure there is a meet-up group for you.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Tour Tips for a Tough City
We have lived in New York for seven months and we have had a variety of visitors with more scheduled on the calendar. In the past two weeks my mother has visited from Kansas and Cameron's 14 year old friend, from Evergreen, CO have visited. You would think after our revolving door of guest I would have developed a fail proof tour of New York City laid out for any type of guest. Most people only get one trip to New York in their life time. I take making their visit special very seriously.
The one thing that I know for sure is that the guest needs to go to Time Square twice. The first time so that they can have that moment when they know they are in the heart of the city. The second time so that they can shop in at least one of the mega stores (six story Forever 21, M&M's store, Toys R us with a Ferris wheel inside, etc...). Time Square is the ultimate tourist trap, but you do have to go there. There is really nothing like it anywhere else in the world. And once you've completed your second trip there you never have to go back, unless you live here and you will always go back because there will always be another visitor who needs to see it. We had some guest this fall who stayed with us while they protested with the Occupy Wall Street group, so you would think that they wouldn't have any interest in anything as commercial as Time Square, but they loved it and even went to the M&M store twice!
The next most obvious place is Rockefeller Center. There is really nothing to do there, but it is visually familiar and the gold statue at the ice-skating rink is a classic backdrop for the obligatory photo op. I will add that there is a Nintendo Store in the plaza area and my children and their friends consider this a must see. And for any early birds there is the opportunity to see the Today Show host if you want to get down there first thing in the morning. During the holidays there is also the Christmas tree, but read my blog on crowds before attempting that tourist attraction. You also have an above average chance of seeing a celeb if you get there when interview guest are arriving at the Today Show or for the Jimmy Fallon show.
I would say that Soho is a must see. But that is a tricky choice with anyone younger than 13 or with a boy. My son, Hunter, was having a fit down there at Christmas fighting the masses and he had no interest in going into the shops (except for a few chocolatiers who had samples out). When my teen aged nieces where here this summer they could have spent all of their time there shopping at trendy boutiques and street vendors, but I knew their budget so we limited them to one day. Between people watching, galleries, restaurants, and shopping you could easily kill two days there, but be prepared for crowds and a lot of walking. There are no fast food anythings so if you get tired or thirsty be prepared to pay the piper for a spot to get a refreshment.
One place that we always go with visitors is the East Village. My mom would tell me, and does, that this a huge mistake. May-be I just like to take a walk down memory lane from my early days in NYC, but I think it shows the often unseen and grungier side of the city. Again there is a lot of walking with very little reward except for peirogies at Veselkas. Between the massive number of Japanese restaurants that have moved in and the NYU dorms closing in on the neighborhood the vibe has certainly changed in the last 25 years, but I don't care what anyone says, I'm keeping it on my list.
My least favorite sight has be to the World Trade Center Memorial.. The space is strange and haunting, and the buildings being erected in place of the void that was the World Trade Center is fascinating, but there is no feel good factor. I'll put this on the list of "upon request".
Museums? If they are old enough send them on their own and if not let them chose three galleries at the MET and be done with it. Groups of more than three do not work. (I am laughing as I write that because I have only been with four or more people, so I know what I'm talking about) Everyone has a different method of viewing art, so keeping the styles limited helps in keeping things moving. I am a walk through and stop and look at what I like and Jeff is a start at the beginning and read every plaque. Even as husband and wife we differ, don't try to add Grandma to the mix. Tip: At many museums the posted price is the suggested price. Be generous if you can, but don't miss the museum because you don't think that you can afford it.
I could go on. But the real point is that there is something for everyone, although narrowing it down to your particular interest, time and budget can be challenging.
Walking, waiting, and weather are actually three factors that can foil even the best laid plans.
I can not press the walking thing enough. If you feet are not bloody nubs by the end of the day then you have not seen the city. I am not joking. One of my nieces actually sat down on the morning of her third day and said that she could not go on (she did). Although my feet no longer hurt after a day touring around, I have not forgotten the pain. Suck it up and keep going. How often are you in New York City?
Weather. Summer is hot. It is beyond hot. It is humid. Unless you are one of those women who's thighs don't rub together because you are so thin then be prepared for chaffed inner thighs, or you could wear shorts or Spanks to avoid your sweaty legs from sticking together. Fall and spring are rainy, but as long as you don't mind frizzy hair and umbrella wars on the crowded sidewalks it is actually a good time to visit. Winter is cold. The wind tunnels caused by the tall buildings is a unique phenomenon to the city and it is very real. But if you dress appropriately it can actually be a great time to see the city. "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing choices" (I stole that motto from a local high school with an extensive outdoor curriculum).
The one thing that I know for sure is that the guest needs to go to Time Square twice. The first time so that they can have that moment when they know they are in the heart of the city. The second time so that they can shop in at least one of the mega stores (six story Forever 21, M&M's store, Toys R us with a Ferris wheel inside, etc...). Time Square is the ultimate tourist trap, but you do have to go there. There is really nothing like it anywhere else in the world. And once you've completed your second trip there you never have to go back, unless you live here and you will always go back because there will always be another visitor who needs to see it. We had some guest this fall who stayed with us while they protested with the Occupy Wall Street group, so you would think that they wouldn't have any interest in anything as commercial as Time Square, but they loved it and even went to the M&M store twice!
The next most obvious place is Rockefeller Center. There is really nothing to do there, but it is visually familiar and the gold statue at the ice-skating rink is a classic backdrop for the obligatory photo op. I will add that there is a Nintendo Store in the plaza area and my children and their friends consider this a must see. And for any early birds there is the opportunity to see the Today Show host if you want to get down there first thing in the morning. During the holidays there is also the Christmas tree, but read my blog on crowds before attempting that tourist attraction. You also have an above average chance of seeing a celeb if you get there when interview guest are arriving at the Today Show or for the Jimmy Fallon show. I would say that Soho is a must see. But that is a tricky choice with anyone younger than 13 or with a boy. My son, Hunter, was having a fit down there at Christmas fighting the masses and he had no interest in going into the shops (except for a few chocolatiers who had samples out). When my teen aged nieces where here this summer they could have spent all of their time there shopping at trendy boutiques and street vendors, but I knew their budget so we limited them to one day. Between people watching, galleries, restaurants, and shopping you could easily kill two days there, but be prepared for crowds and a lot of walking. There are no fast food anythings so if you get tired or thirsty be prepared to pay the piper for a spot to get a refreshment.
One place that we always go with visitors is the East Village. My mom would tell me, and does, that this a huge mistake. May-be I just like to take a walk down memory lane from my early days in NYC, but I think it shows the often unseen and grungier side of the city. Again there is a lot of walking with very little reward except for peirogies at Veselkas. Between the massive number of Japanese restaurants that have moved in and the NYU dorms closing in on the neighborhood the vibe has certainly changed in the last 25 years, but I don't care what anyone says, I'm keeping it on my list.
My least favorite sight has be to the World Trade Center Memorial.. The space is strange and haunting, and the buildings being erected in place of the void that was the World Trade Center is fascinating, but there is no feel good factor. I'll put this on the list of "upon request".
Museums? If they are old enough send them on their own and if not let them chose three galleries at the MET and be done with it. Groups of more than three do not work. (I am laughing as I write that because I have only been with four or more people, so I know what I'm talking about) Everyone has a different method of viewing art, so keeping the styles limited helps in keeping things moving. I am a walk through and stop and look at what I like and Jeff is a start at the beginning and read every plaque. Even as husband and wife we differ, don't try to add Grandma to the mix. Tip: At many museums the posted price is the suggested price. Be generous if you can, but don't miss the museum because you don't think that you can afford it.
I could go on. But the real point is that there is something for everyone, although narrowing it down to your particular interest, time and budget can be challenging.
Walking, waiting, and weather are actually three factors that can foil even the best laid plans.
I can not press the walking thing enough. If you feet are not bloody nubs by the end of the day then you have not seen the city. I am not joking. One of my nieces actually sat down on the morning of her third day and said that she could not go on (she did). Although my feet no longer hurt after a day touring around, I have not forgotten the pain. Suck it up and keep going. How often are you in New York City?
Waiting. If you go in to a good restaurant at a regular meal hour you will wait. If you aren't waiting for a table then you might want to go somewhere else, lines are usually a good indicator in regards to the best restaurants (this does not include chain restaurants in Time Square where tourist flock because they recognize a restaurant name).
Weather. Summer is hot. It is beyond hot. It is humid. Unless you are one of those women who's thighs don't rub together because you are so thin then be prepared for chaffed inner thighs, or you could wear shorts or Spanks to avoid your sweaty legs from sticking together. Fall and spring are rainy, but as long as you don't mind frizzy hair and umbrella wars on the crowded sidewalks it is actually a good time to visit. Winter is cold. The wind tunnels caused by the tall buildings is a unique phenomenon to the city and it is very real. But if you dress appropriately it can actually be a great time to see the city. "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing choices" (I stole that motto from a local high school with an extensive outdoor curriculum).
Where to go? and what to wear? and when to come? You tell me and I'll do my best to show you the town with as little pain as possible.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
No Pants Subway Ride
Last Sunday was the annual No Pants Subway Ride (think flash mob) organized by Improv Everywhere, a prank based collective in New York City . In theory people get on the subway individually or in small groups and take off their pants leaving on their underwear (of course) and they get off and on the train at various stops until they reach Union Square where everyone converges in their skivvies.
The only reason I was aware of this "happening" was because Cameron and a few of her friends decided that this sounded like a hysterical thing to do. They went to Macy's last week to purchase matching boxers. Since the girls were buying boxers I assumed that everyone on the subway would be wearing similarly modest undies. Not so...(see photos below)
For the most part wearing boxer shorts or boy short undies is no more revealing than what you see on the subway on a summer afternoon. But some of these boys and girls were pushing the word "briefs". Anyone who has ever ridden a subway understands that a "sub"way is underground meaning that you will need to walk up stairs to reach the outside or to transfer to another platform to another train. I don't think that I need to go any further with the visual.
The best sighting I had was early on in the afternoon. The doors opened to an Express #2 train and a very beautiful woman wearing a parka, a hat, boots, and boy shorts was standing reading a magazine and next to her was a very good looking man wearing a leather jacket, boxers, black socks and dress shoes, and sunglasses. They looked like a Calvin Klein print ad. Oh, if only a fraction of the participants had been half as good looking.
Jeff and I met Cam and her merry band at the Starbucks off of Union Square. They looked a little tired and sun deprived from spending the day underground, but they were no worse for the wear. Actually, I want to send a very special shout out to the mom who chaperoned the girls and for them taking them for an afternoon of fun on the #1 and L trains. Making sure four lovely teenage girls stayed away from groping hands on those crowded trains took vigilance and a great sense of humor.
Why didn't I do it? I don't have the legs for it when they are sun kissed in the summer, a lot less when they are the color of uncooked biscuits in January.
The only reason I was aware of this "happening" was because Cameron and a few of her friends decided that this sounded like a hysterical thing to do. They went to Macy's last week to purchase matching boxers. Since the girls were buying boxers I assumed that everyone on the subway would be wearing similarly modest undies. Not so...(see photos below)
For the most part wearing boxer shorts or boy short undies is no more revealing than what you see on the subway on a summer afternoon. But some of these boys and girls were pushing the word "briefs". Anyone who has ever ridden a subway understands that a "sub"way is underground meaning that you will need to walk up stairs to reach the outside or to transfer to another platform to another train. I don't think that I need to go any further with the visual.
The best sighting I had was early on in the afternoon. The doors opened to an Express #2 train and a very beautiful woman wearing a parka, a hat, boots, and boy shorts was standing reading a magazine and next to her was a very good looking man wearing a leather jacket, boxers, black socks and dress shoes, and sunglasses. They looked like a Calvin Klein print ad. Oh, if only a fraction of the participants had been half as good looking.
Jeff and I met Cam and her merry band at the Starbucks off of Union Square. They looked a little tired and sun deprived from spending the day underground, but they were no worse for the wear. Actually, I want to send a very special shout out to the mom who chaperoned the girls and for them taking them for an afternoon of fun on the #1 and L trains. Making sure four lovely teenage girls stayed away from groping hands on those crowded trains took vigilance and a great sense of humor.
Why didn't I do it? I don't have the legs for it when they are sun kissed in the summer, a lot less when they are the color of uncooked biscuits in January.
Friday, January 6, 2012
House Proud
I make an effort to keep a tidy house to balance the small space. A pair of shoes on the livingroom floor becomes a tripping hazard and a backpack left on the table clutters the room. Imagine the space between your couch and your t.v. as the size of my living room. Our apartment has radiator heat, so the temperature tends to regulate between comfortable and a sauna. Add in four thirteen year old girls dancing for four hours to Just Dance III on the Wii... and the living room suddently became very hot and very small.
Jeff and I had gone out to buy a bottle of wine leaving Cam at home with her friends dancing and Jordan napping in one of the bedrooms. When we got back Cameron's friend Rachel and her mother were standing in the hallway making final arrangements for getting her back home later that evening. I had not realized that Rachel was coming over or I would have stayed home to meet her mom and I would have certainly had the girls move their coats and backpacks to Cam's bedroom so that the living room was not piled high with bodies and belongings. From what I gather from Cameron, Rachel's family has a lovely two story apartment in Morningside Heights (116th Street), so I would have wanted to present to Rachel's mom, "cozy comfort" in place of space. Instead it looked more like a college dorm room.
After much discussion about whether to see " Sherlock Holmes" or "Chipwrecked" the girls headed out to the movie theater three blocks away. Jordan and I opened all of the windows, lit what is left of the holiday Yankee Candles, and even opened the front door to the hallway to bring in fresh air and to unfog the windows.
We settled into a Friday night at home watching a movie On Demand when at 10:30 the girls rang the buzzer to get back onto the apartment. Again, little did I know that Cecilia's parents had met the girls at the theater and had walked them back to our apartment so that she could grab her backpack. Cecilia's mom is a doctor at Columbia and they have a luxury high rise apartment near Columbia Hospital, Now that the apartment was tidy and void of humidity I was glad that I had been able to invite at least one set of parents in without feeling like I had to exlain the chaos of the apartment.
I am still getting used to our situation. We definately have location, location, location, but... I am still coming to terms with the size of the apartment. My mom was visting us in NYC for the first time this past week and she seemed unphased by the size of the apartment, although she did stay at a hotel down the street so as to avoid the fold out couch and sharing one bathroom. The fact that Cam regularly has friends over and the kids seem to have fun dancing and raiding the refrigerator seemingly unaware of the space (or lack there of) should reassure me that when I tell the my children, "home is where the heart is" I'm telling the truth.
Jeff and I had gone out to buy a bottle of wine leaving Cam at home with her friends dancing and Jordan napping in one of the bedrooms. When we got back Cameron's friend Rachel and her mother were standing in the hallway making final arrangements for getting her back home later that evening. I had not realized that Rachel was coming over or I would have stayed home to meet her mom and I would have certainly had the girls move their coats and backpacks to Cam's bedroom so that the living room was not piled high with bodies and belongings. From what I gather from Cameron, Rachel's family has a lovely two story apartment in Morningside Heights (116th Street), so I would have wanted to present to Rachel's mom, "cozy comfort" in place of space. Instead it looked more like a college dorm room.
After much discussion about whether to see " Sherlock Holmes" or "Chipwrecked" the girls headed out to the movie theater three blocks away. Jordan and I opened all of the windows, lit what is left of the holiday Yankee Candles, and even opened the front door to the hallway to bring in fresh air and to unfog the windows.
We settled into a Friday night at home watching a movie On Demand when at 10:30 the girls rang the buzzer to get back onto the apartment. Again, little did I know that Cecilia's parents had met the girls at the theater and had walked them back to our apartment so that she could grab her backpack. Cecilia's mom is a doctor at Columbia and they have a luxury high rise apartment near Columbia Hospital, Now that the apartment was tidy and void of humidity I was glad that I had been able to invite at least one set of parents in without feeling like I had to exlain the chaos of the apartment.
I am still getting used to our situation. We definately have location, location, location, but... I am still coming to terms with the size of the apartment. My mom was visting us in NYC for the first time this past week and she seemed unphased by the size of the apartment, although she did stay at a hotel down the street so as to avoid the fold out couch and sharing one bathroom. The fact that Cam regularly has friends over and the kids seem to have fun dancing and raiding the refrigerator seemingly unaware of the space (or lack there of) should reassure me that when I tell the my children, "home is where the heart is" I'm telling the truth.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
The Road Less Traveled (and for obvious reasons)
I got a call back for a job that sounded very promising. But as with all the potential jobs there are the pros and cons that have to be examined.
First of all the hours are from 6 a.m. to 4 p.m. five days a week,, making it a long 50 hour work week and the job is salaried. But it was working for a corporate catering company and I liked the idea of the fast paced environment and figured that if I was working in a busy environment the time would fly. Still, getting up at 5:00 a.m. to catch a 5:20 a.m. #2 subway down to South Street Seaport was rather daunting.
When I went for my first interview my son, Hunter, was with me, so although I saw the rat traps lining the sidewalks I was able to divert my attention to my conversation with him. But when I went for my second interview I was alone. Although South Street Seaport has been built up as a major tourist attraction the area is still primarily a functioning fish market in the early morning hours. So a large amount of the area are warehouse that are closed during regular business hours. At one point I had to decide which street to walk down to reach the catering office which is literally underneath the Brooklyn Bridge at the end of South Street. I had two streets that I could take. One was brightly lit by the sun with no cars lining the streets, but there were rat traps placed at each warehouse door and the other street had the shade of buildings still on it and cars lining the street but fewer rat traps, although I did worry that rats might be hiding under the cars.
I don't know how rat traps work. They look like roach motels except large enough for a rat. I'm not sure if the rats go into the black box and die or if they go into the black box eat the poison and then leave and die. Whatever... potentially each of those boxes that lined the sidewalks could have a rat trapped inside or inside eating rat poison. What if I walked by and a rat ran out? What if I walked by and the box shook with a rat trying to escape? Hideous!
I chose the path with the sunshine on it but with more rat traps. The fear of rats hiding underneath cars on the street with more shade dictated my decision. But I still had the fear of walking by the rat traps and the rats inside the boxes responding to the sound of someone walking down the street and the boxes moving. So I literally ran down the street with my eyes diverted to the sky so as not to see the quaking rat traps. I laugh even thinking about what I must have looked like to some South Street Seaport Tourist security agent sitting in a room monitoring the early morning streets before the tourist began flooding the area.
Ok, so I got the dreaded rejection email the next day, but I have to say between the ten hour days and dodging rats this might have been for the best.
First of all the hours are from 6 a.m. to 4 p.m. five days a week,, making it a long 50 hour work week and the job is salaried. But it was working for a corporate catering company and I liked the idea of the fast paced environment and figured that if I was working in a busy environment the time would fly. Still, getting up at 5:00 a.m. to catch a 5:20 a.m. #2 subway down to South Street Seaport was rather daunting.
When I went for my first interview my son, Hunter, was with me, so although I saw the rat traps lining the sidewalks I was able to divert my attention to my conversation with him. But when I went for my second interview I was alone. Although South Street Seaport has been built up as a major tourist attraction the area is still primarily a functioning fish market in the early morning hours. So a large amount of the area are warehouse that are closed during regular business hours. At one point I had to decide which street to walk down to reach the catering office which is literally underneath the Brooklyn Bridge at the end of South Street. I had two streets that I could take. One was brightly lit by the sun with no cars lining the streets, but there were rat traps placed at each warehouse door and the other street had the shade of buildings still on it and cars lining the street but fewer rat traps, although I did worry that rats might be hiding under the cars.
I don't know how rat traps work. They look like roach motels except large enough for a rat. I'm not sure if the rats go into the black box and die or if they go into the black box eat the poison and then leave and die. Whatever... potentially each of those boxes that lined the sidewalks could have a rat trapped inside or inside eating rat poison. What if I walked by and a rat ran out? What if I walked by and the box shook with a rat trying to escape? Hideous!
I chose the path with the sunshine on it but with more rat traps. The fear of rats hiding underneath cars on the street with more shade dictated my decision. But I still had the fear of walking by the rat traps and the rats inside the boxes responding to the sound of someone walking down the street and the boxes moving. So I literally ran down the street with my eyes diverted to the sky so as not to see the quaking rat traps. I laugh even thinking about what I must have looked like to some South Street Seaport Tourist security agent sitting in a room monitoring the early morning streets before the tourist began flooding the area.
Ok, so I got the dreaded rejection email the next day, but I have to say between the ten hour days and dodging rats this might have been for the best.
What Just Happened?
Journal Entry January 05. 2012
My mom is still visiting. Of course the week that she is here NYC is freezing. After I finished my telecommuting work we headed out to get something to eat. I've been feeling so blue about not being able to find a new job that I told her I wanted to stop by our church for the holiday vespers before we went to dinner. When we got there the church receptionist said that vespers had ended for the season. Really? Even church is letting me down. When we were waiting at the crosswalk for the light to change I noticed that we were standing next to "un-named retailor". My mom gives me a gift certificate to this store every Christmas. I don't know why. It's not a shop that I would ever go to, but for some reason she gives me the gift certificate and I buy the obligatory annual piece of costume jewelry from them. So, when we were standing there I said "Oh, look, Mom, it's my beloved C. I wonder if they are hiring." Suddenly the woman standing next to us said, "What did you say?" I wasn't even sure that she was speaking to me, so I hesitantly said, "My beloved C?" "No the other thing." "I wonder if they are hiring?" "Yes! I'm the district manager of the store and I know they are hiring." She handed me her card and told me to call tomorrow. What? I've never even done retail. Weird, but what the hell. May-be instead of praying for an answer the Lord had set me back on the street to find the answer.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
All They Had to Do Was Catch a Train
This morning Jordan and Hunter both had flights to Denver from Newark Airport. Jordan's flight was at 6:30 a.m. and Hunter's was at 7:15 a.m. During 2011 Jordan traveled by herself to Japan to study at Temple University Tokyo and Hunter spent seven months traveling through Europe working on organic farms. So the idea of sending them to Penn Station to catch the New Jersey Transit to Newark Airport by themselves is not beyond the scope of reason. Oh, and did I mention that they are 22 and 20 years of age?
Jordan was out with friends until 2:00 a.m. gallivanting around Greenwich Village and blew in the door saying that she could easily pack and be ready to catch the 3:52 a.m. #1 Train to Penn Station without a problem. Hunter was much more organized - he was packed and he had the instructions for the New Jersey Transit that Jeff had printed on top of his suitcase.
At 3:45 a.m. they headed out the door. They would have 35 minutes the buy tickets and get on the train for Newark Airport. Catching that #1 train was the key.
Ah, if only...
Jordan said the trouble began when they got to 34th Street/Penn Station. She told Hunter that they needed to get off of the subway. He said, "That subway sign says 'Pennsylvania' we want Penn Station!" She tried to argue that Penn and Pennsylvania were one and the same, but the doors had already closed and they were whisked away on the express train to 14th Street where he finally agreed that she had been correct and they had to wait for the uptown train to get them back to 34th Street.
Jordan called from Penn Station to say that they had arrived but that Hunter had taken off like a bat out of hell as soon as they arrived and said that he would meet her in a few minutes in front of Nathan's Hotdogs once he figured out where to buy the tickets. Jordan tired of waiting, walked over to the ticket booth and bought two tickets to Jamaica, Queens for the connection to JFK Airport, which would have been great except that she was going to Newark, "New Jersey". Needless to say I asked her what she could have been thinking and she said that she remembered the Long Island Railroad ticket booths from buying summer tickets to the beach and when the ticket agent asked her if she wanted a ticket to LaGuardia or JFK she could only remember that she was not going to LaGuardia.
Hunter ended up rejoining Jordan in front of the Nathan's Hotdog stand with the two tickets that he had purchased. He purchased tickets on Amtrak. I haven't even asked him what destination his tickets were for. Amtrak is a passenger train for long distance travel. What was he thinking? I'm dumbfounded.
Now it is 5:20 a.m. They have been at Penn Station for over an hour. They have missed the 4:30 a.m. and the 4:51 a.m. trains that would have gotten them to the airport in time for Jordan to catch her flight. They are calling us every 20 to 45 minutes to get further instructions (although, they have obviously not heard anything we have said) and to find out where the other is. Why are they not calling each other?
Mysteriously and miraculously the next time they call they are actually waiting aboard the 5:41 a.m. train bound for Newark Airport. Of course, I am now on the phone to United Airlines to see what Jordan can do since she will obviously not make her 6:30 a.m. flight.
During the chaos of the ticket buying Jeff keeps saying "You all need to find the ticket counter for the New Jersey Transit". Hunter swears that those are words that he has never hear before. In Jeff's defense, once the light of day flooded the apartment (well, daylight has never flooded this apartment, but I'm taking poetic license) we find the schedule that Jeff had printed out for Hunter left behind on the dining room table. I remember at one point during the evening Jeff was trying to give him instructions on getting to the airport while Hunter was playing video games (never a good time to talk to Hunter). After Jeff completed his detailed description he asked him if he had any questions. Hunter very flippantly asked, "Do they speak English at the train station? If so, then I will be fine." Famous last words.
So now they are at the airport. Hunter calls to find out what airline he is on. At 6:00 a.m. I climb out of the loft to retrieve his itinerary from the refrigerator door where it was taped. He calls back once he is at the correct airline kiosk. He wants the confirmation number. This is madness! How did this child make it across Europe without my help?
Jordan calls from the United Airlines line and said that she wants to know what her alternative is if she misses her flight in 20 minutes. IF she misses her flight? Again, how did she navigate Tokyo without me?
Hunter made his flight by the skin of his teeth. Jordan missed her flight, but she was able to catch a commuter flight to Boston at 8:30 a.m. and then catch a direct flight to Denver at 2:35 p.m. arriving in Denver at 5:20 p.m.. Her trip was almost 15 hours door to door. I think her flight to Tokyo was 13 hours.
This evening once the kids were both save and sound back in Denver Jeff and I were able to look at each other and laugh.
Jordan was out with friends until 2:00 a.m. gallivanting around Greenwich Village and blew in the door saying that she could easily pack and be ready to catch the 3:52 a.m. #1 Train to Penn Station without a problem. Hunter was much more organized - he was packed and he had the instructions for the New Jersey Transit that Jeff had printed on top of his suitcase.
At 3:45 a.m. they headed out the door. They would have 35 minutes the buy tickets and get on the train for Newark Airport. Catching that #1 train was the key.
Ah, if only...
Jordan said the trouble began when they got to 34th Street/Penn Station. She told Hunter that they needed to get off of the subway. He said, "That subway sign says 'Pennsylvania' we want Penn Station!" She tried to argue that Penn and Pennsylvania were one and the same, but the doors had already closed and they were whisked away on the express train to 14th Street where he finally agreed that she had been correct and they had to wait for the uptown train to get them back to 34th Street.
Jordan called from Penn Station to say that they had arrived but that Hunter had taken off like a bat out of hell as soon as they arrived and said that he would meet her in a few minutes in front of Nathan's Hotdogs once he figured out where to buy the tickets. Jordan tired of waiting, walked over to the ticket booth and bought two tickets to Jamaica, Queens for the connection to JFK Airport, which would have been great except that she was going to Newark, "New Jersey". Needless to say I asked her what she could have been thinking and she said that she remembered the Long Island Railroad ticket booths from buying summer tickets to the beach and when the ticket agent asked her if she wanted a ticket to LaGuardia or JFK she could only remember that she was not going to LaGuardia.
Hunter ended up rejoining Jordan in front of the Nathan's Hotdog stand with the two tickets that he had purchased. He purchased tickets on Amtrak. I haven't even asked him what destination his tickets were for. Amtrak is a passenger train for long distance travel. What was he thinking? I'm dumbfounded.
Now it is 5:20 a.m. They have been at Penn Station for over an hour. They have missed the 4:30 a.m. and the 4:51 a.m. trains that would have gotten them to the airport in time for Jordan to catch her flight. They are calling us every 20 to 45 minutes to get further instructions (although, they have obviously not heard anything we have said) and to find out where the other is. Why are they not calling each other?
Mysteriously and miraculously the next time they call they are actually waiting aboard the 5:41 a.m. train bound for Newark Airport. Of course, I am now on the phone to United Airlines to see what Jordan can do since she will obviously not make her 6:30 a.m. flight.
During the chaos of the ticket buying Jeff keeps saying "You all need to find the ticket counter for the New Jersey Transit". Hunter swears that those are words that he has never hear before. In Jeff's defense, once the light of day flooded the apartment (well, daylight has never flooded this apartment, but I'm taking poetic license) we find the schedule that Jeff had printed out for Hunter left behind on the dining room table. I remember at one point during the evening Jeff was trying to give him instructions on getting to the airport while Hunter was playing video games (never a good time to talk to Hunter). After Jeff completed his detailed description he asked him if he had any questions. Hunter very flippantly asked, "Do they speak English at the train station? If so, then I will be fine." Famous last words.
So now they are at the airport. Hunter calls to find out what airline he is on. At 6:00 a.m. I climb out of the loft to retrieve his itinerary from the refrigerator door where it was taped. He calls back once he is at the correct airline kiosk. He wants the confirmation number. This is madness! How did this child make it across Europe without my help?
Jordan calls from the United Airlines line and said that she wants to know what her alternative is if she misses her flight in 20 minutes. IF she misses her flight? Again, how did she navigate Tokyo without me?
Hunter made his flight by the skin of his teeth. Jordan missed her flight, but she was able to catch a commuter flight to Boston at 8:30 a.m. and then catch a direct flight to Denver at 2:35 p.m. arriving in Denver at 5:20 p.m.. Her trip was almost 15 hours door to door. I think her flight to Tokyo was 13 hours.
This evening once the kids were both save and sound back in Denver Jeff and I were able to look at each other and laugh.
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