Just to explain some stuff.
FIRST—I didn't make this private because of the comment left by Dan on my Facebook. He, like Andrew said, is a buzzkill and isn't quite as smart as he thinks he is, especially when it comes to matters of the publishing industry. I stand by that opinion. (Sorry, Michele lol.)
I had to make this blog private because an incident/accident made me realize that people from work should probably not have access to these postings unless I want them to. I never mention my company's name, but it'd be easy enough to figure out where I work due to Facebook and other social networking sites. I didn't say anything in my previous post to make anyone mad, but a comment left on the post (which has since been deleted) offended one of the other interns and ignited a fire that I quickly put out. All is now well, but I don't want to go through that again. The last thing I want to happen is for a coworker to misinterpret something on my blog, share it with others who will be equally pissed, and then it get back to management. This opportunity is single-handedly the biggest one I've ever been given and I don't want to blow it.
Being private is going to be a pain in the ass—I apologize that you now have to log in to read this. Anything that will save me a few headaches, however, is worth it. Since it'll be more difficult to click through Facebook to get here, I highly suggest signing up for alerts via email (on the right side of the page), if you're super curious about my life or are a somewhat dedicated reader for whatever reason.
SECOND—Matt has not officially moved in yet, though all his stuff is here. He worked twelves hours at DBK today (for free!) and was officially offered the job. The original plan was for him to finish working on RK on the 8th and then move out here on the 9th, but DBK wants him here sooner, so he's going to see what he can do. He may be out here for good sooner than we both thought. Which is just fine with me.
THIRD—I, again, realized how lucky I truly am today. In the first manuscript that I copyedited on my own, I noticed that the glossary wasn't alphebetized. I showed it to the girl who I'll be taking over for and she suggested that maybe it was on purpose or was a style thing, but told me it was ultimately my decision whether I wanted the glossary to be alphabetized or not. "It's your book," she told me. Consider my mind blown. Of course, if any one of my superiors doesn't like my decisions, he or she can override me, but whatever, ya know? I'm just grateful to have the opportunity to make those decisions in the first place. I can't wait until all of this actually gets under way.
FOURTH—All drama with the other interns is, I think, over. I talked to a few of them and cleared the air, I think. Most of us are going to a book launch Tuesday night at a bar downtown, so hopefully we can all just relax, have a few drinks, and reconnect. I know I don't have to be friends with everyone I come in contact with, but if I can salvage a few new acquaintances, then I'll be happy.
FIFTH—Andrew and I went for tapas tonight. We tried to wait for Matt to show up (he was supposed to get out at 8 and didn't get home till midnight, so...), but when it became clear that he wasn't coming, we ate our fair share of tapas. I loved all of it and will definitely be going back! Yay for Boqueria!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
A Little Bit of Everything—Matt visits, gay pride, and a promotion!
A year ago today (06/25/2011), Nanny passed away. And Matt told me he didn't think he wanted a girlfriend anymore. It was, hands down, one of the worst days of my life.
Today, I'm writing this from a two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan where I'll be living with Matt, with whom I've resolved all issues and for whom I have nothing but love. Today, I was offered a full-time position with the company for which I am interning. Tonight, Matt and I went to dinner at the restaurant where he'll start working full time in three weeks. Today, 06/25/2012, was a very, very good day.
I just... can't believe the way life works sometimes.
With that said... How 'bout a little story?
LAST THURSDAY, I went for gelato with another intern because the office was too warm to sit there any longer. (The air conditioner has been failing for a few weeks now...) We talked about how I expected to eventually end up in Chicago, and she said she wanted to go to Boston. She asked me what I wanted to do with the company we're both at now. My response was simple: I'd ride it out as an intern for a few months (I figured three months) and then see if they had any use for me as a full-time employee. If they didn't, I'd apply elsewhere.
An hour or so after this outting, I got an email from my managing editor saying that a few positions were going to become available in the office. She said that people spoke highly of me and my work and she asked if I'd be interested in working full-time on the staff. I almost fell over myself as I (practically) ran to her office to express my sincere interest. We talked about my past experiences, I took a copyediting test, and then I waited. I didn't tell many people about it, just in case it didn't work out.
I didn't hear anything about the job on Friday, but a few people did come into the office to interview for that position and others. Today, all dressed up for my date with Matt, I entered the office expecting just another normal day. By 10:30, I had an email in my inbox saying I did really well on the copyediting test and to stop by the managing editor's office when I got a second.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, I had been offered—and had accepted—the position of editorial assistant to the publisher. The girl in the position now is going to medical school, and I'll take over for her this coming Monday. The pay isn't fantastic, but I didn't expect it to be. And honestly, I don't even really care about that part... What matters most to me is that I'll be doing things that I've wanted to do since high school—since I decided that I wanted to work with books.
Responsibilities of my new position will include mostly editorial work, such as working with the authors to develop text; passing manuscripts through production phases (proofreading/copyediting), working with the designers to produce jacket copies; writing back cover copy; writing catalogue copy; and drawing up contracts. I'll also be working directly with/for the president/publisher of the company. So anything he wants, editorial-wise, I'll handle. Contacting authors, negotiating contracts, research, reading book proposals, and taking messages from authors for the publisher... I'm excited. It's going to be a ton of work, but it's all stuff that I've always wanted to do. I'll be at my new desk on Monday!
In the past, I expressed an interest in wanting to avoid editorial assistant positions because I thought they were mostly secretarial. I feel that if I were at a bigger company, I'd be answering phones, making copies, and sending faxes all day. And that's fine, but I really wanted something more editorial. At an independent publishing company as small as mine now, I'll be given more responsibilities (for a lower price, unfortunately, but again... that's not what matters right now) and can hopefully take those responsibilities with me to a bigger company/another city when the time comes.
BEFORE I MOVED TO MANHATTAN, Matt told me that he figured I'd be promoted quickly. He actually said weeks, but I figured—if it happened—it'd be a few months. When I got to know the other interns and employees and found out that most interns in the past were promoted within five or six months, I definitely thought I had a while to go. There are interns that I work with now who have been there for six months or more and, in a way, I feel bad that I was given this promotion and they weren't. I mean, anyone in my position would have absolutely accepted without a thought about the others, but... I feel a little guilty. (Of course. I wouldn't be me if I didn't.)
I know exactly what the others must think. I'd be pissed at me, too. And the company. Especially if I'd been there for many, many months and someone new came in and was handed a position within three weeks. But... it happened. And I didn't set out to get it. I didn't find out about a position and apply behind anyone's back. It just happened. I did my work, they emailed me, I accepted. The end. I hope I get a chance to talk about this with the others, but I don't know that any intern lunches/happy hours will happen any time soon. And if they do, I don't think I'll be invited. A few people in the office aren't even meeting my eye right now. It bothers me because there are a few people who I hoped I'd become pretty good friends with. I hope that as time passes and I stay friendly and try to maintain a connection with them, they'll come around. But who knows.
The way I got this job reminds me of the way I got my first full-time job. I didn't go looking for it; it came to me. I was in King of Prussia with Matt a week or so before college graduation and I got a Facebook message asking me if I'd found a full-time job yet. I went into the office where I'd been working part-time/freelance, talked about the position, and started working three or four days after graduation. That was the end of it. It's weird the way things come full circle...
SO... to celebrate my promotion, Matt and I went to the restaurant where he'll be working. He's been in NYC since Sunday morning, when he arrived by bus and then attended the Gay Pride Parade with Andrew and me. (Pictures to come; uploading time is too long tonight.) He seems to like the apartment, and every once in a while, he'll come out of a room and say, "We live in New York City!" He's experiencing the disbelief that I did/still am when I think about everything that's happened in the past month. Of course, he won't be officially moved in until July 9, but it's nice to have him here. He's good for carrying heavy bags, reaching high shelves, and making beds (apparently—I just learned about this one today).
Anyway, we went to David Burke Kitchen to check out the lay of the land and make sure that Matt knew where he was going once he was off the subway. He's doing a trial run on Wednesday, learning the kitchen and the menu and what not. We walked around Soho for a little while, saw a ton of restaurants and shops (I went to try this Mexican sushi place we passed!), and then got a drink at a little bar. At dinner, we were both pleased with what we ordered. And the monkey bread for two, which was our dessert, was effing fantastic. The rest of it is in the fridge right now, just waiting to be devoured tomorrow night. The experience was wonderful. The food is a step or two above what Matt's cooking now, and I think he's pretty happy with the appearance and the location. It was pretty busy for a rainy Monday night, so that's a good sign! I'll find out more after he works on Wednesday.
IT'S BEEN A CRAZY COUPLE OF DAYS. I had my first house guest Friday (Andrew and I ordered Chinese) and then on Saturday, Andrew and I trekked across lower Manhattan. We went to the Union Square Farmers' Market, Barnes & Noble, the Stroud Bookstore, Max Brennan's restaurant, and Battery Park. We stared at Lady Liberty for a while and then stalked a pair of pigeons (Fred and Joanne, we decided) before heading back to his place to eat sandwiches (both of which were made incorrectly) on his roof. We watched the Empire State Building go gay and then went to the movies to see Brave—which was so good! We both enjoyed it. Then Sunday was the parade and Matt came to town and then today was just... chaotic, but... it's a happy crazy.
Matt and I met a guy while we were waiting for the A-train tonight who kind of made us realize just how lucky we are right now. People come to New York City every day, hoping to make a career out of their dreams. This happens in our specific industries quite a bit. And here we are... with jobs at decent companies, a nice place to live, and each other—built in best friends, I suppose. I love it. I love all of it right now. I honestly couldn't ask for anything more.
Today, I'm writing this from a two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan where I'll be living with Matt, with whom I've resolved all issues and for whom I have nothing but love. Today, I was offered a full-time position with the company for which I am interning. Tonight, Matt and I went to dinner at the restaurant where he'll start working full time in three weeks. Today, 06/25/2012, was a very, very good day.
I just... can't believe the way life works sometimes.
—–––––––
With that said... How 'bout a little story?
LAST THURSDAY, I went for gelato with another intern because the office was too warm to sit there any longer. (The air conditioner has been failing for a few weeks now...) We talked about how I expected to eventually end up in Chicago, and she said she wanted to go to Boston. She asked me what I wanted to do with the company we're both at now. My response was simple: I'd ride it out as an intern for a few months (I figured three months) and then see if they had any use for me as a full-time employee. If they didn't, I'd apply elsewhere.
An hour or so after this outting, I got an email from my managing editor saying that a few positions were going to become available in the office. She said that people spoke highly of me and my work and she asked if I'd be interested in working full-time on the staff. I almost fell over myself as I (practically) ran to her office to express my sincere interest. We talked about my past experiences, I took a copyediting test, and then I waited. I didn't tell many people about it, just in case it didn't work out.
I didn't hear anything about the job on Friday, but a few people did come into the office to interview for that position and others. Today, all dressed up for my date with Matt, I entered the office expecting just another normal day. By 10:30, I had an email in my inbox saying I did really well on the copyediting test and to stop by the managing editor's office when I got a second.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, I had been offered—and had accepted—the position of editorial assistant to the publisher. The girl in the position now is going to medical school, and I'll take over for her this coming Monday. The pay isn't fantastic, but I didn't expect it to be. And honestly, I don't even really care about that part... What matters most to me is that I'll be doing things that I've wanted to do since high school—since I decided that I wanted to work with books.
Responsibilities of my new position will include mostly editorial work, such as working with the authors to develop text; passing manuscripts through production phases (proofreading/copyediting), working with the designers to produce jacket copies; writing back cover copy; writing catalogue copy; and drawing up contracts. I'll also be working directly with/for the president/publisher of the company. So anything he wants, editorial-wise, I'll handle. Contacting authors, negotiating contracts, research, reading book proposals, and taking messages from authors for the publisher... I'm excited. It's going to be a ton of work, but it's all stuff that I've always wanted to do. I'll be at my new desk on Monday!
In the past, I expressed an interest in wanting to avoid editorial assistant positions because I thought they were mostly secretarial. I feel that if I were at a bigger company, I'd be answering phones, making copies, and sending faxes all day. And that's fine, but I really wanted something more editorial. At an independent publishing company as small as mine now, I'll be given more responsibilities (for a lower price, unfortunately, but again... that's not what matters right now) and can hopefully take those responsibilities with me to a bigger company/another city when the time comes.
BEFORE I MOVED TO MANHATTAN, Matt told me that he figured I'd be promoted quickly. He actually said weeks, but I figured—if it happened—it'd be a few months. When I got to know the other interns and employees and found out that most interns in the past were promoted within five or six months, I definitely thought I had a while to go. There are interns that I work with now who have been there for six months or more and, in a way, I feel bad that I was given this promotion and they weren't. I mean, anyone in my position would have absolutely accepted without a thought about the others, but... I feel a little guilty. (Of course. I wouldn't be me if I didn't.)
I know exactly what the others must think. I'd be pissed at me, too. And the company. Especially if I'd been there for many, many months and someone new came in and was handed a position within three weeks. But... it happened. And I didn't set out to get it. I didn't find out about a position and apply behind anyone's back. It just happened. I did my work, they emailed me, I accepted. The end. I hope I get a chance to talk about this with the others, but I don't know that any intern lunches/happy hours will happen any time soon. And if they do, I don't think I'll be invited. A few people in the office aren't even meeting my eye right now. It bothers me because there are a few people who I hoped I'd become pretty good friends with. I hope that as time passes and I stay friendly and try to maintain a connection with them, they'll come around. But who knows.
The way I got this job reminds me of the way I got my first full-time job. I didn't go looking for it; it came to me. I was in King of Prussia with Matt a week or so before college graduation and I got a Facebook message asking me if I'd found a full-time job yet. I went into the office where I'd been working part-time/freelance, talked about the position, and started working three or four days after graduation. That was the end of it. It's weird the way things come full circle...
SO... to celebrate my promotion, Matt and I went to the restaurant where he'll be working. He's been in NYC since Sunday morning, when he arrived by bus and then attended the Gay Pride Parade with Andrew and me. (Pictures to come; uploading time is too long tonight.) He seems to like the apartment, and every once in a while, he'll come out of a room and say, "We live in New York City!" He's experiencing the disbelief that I did/still am when I think about everything that's happened in the past month. Of course, he won't be officially moved in until July 9, but it's nice to have him here. He's good for carrying heavy bags, reaching high shelves, and making beds (apparently—I just learned about this one today).
Anyway, we went to David Burke Kitchen to check out the lay of the land and make sure that Matt knew where he was going once he was off the subway. He's doing a trial run on Wednesday, learning the kitchen and the menu and what not. We walked around Soho for a little while, saw a ton of restaurants and shops (I went to try this Mexican sushi place we passed!), and then got a drink at a little bar. At dinner, we were both pleased with what we ordered. And the monkey bread for two, which was our dessert, was effing fantastic. The rest of it is in the fridge right now, just waiting to be devoured tomorrow night. The experience was wonderful. The food is a step or two above what Matt's cooking now, and I think he's pretty happy with the appearance and the location. It was pretty busy for a rainy Monday night, so that's a good sign! I'll find out more after he works on Wednesday.
IT'S BEEN A CRAZY COUPLE OF DAYS. I had my first house guest Friday (Andrew and I ordered Chinese) and then on Saturday, Andrew and I trekked across lower Manhattan. We went to the Union Square Farmers' Market, Barnes & Noble, the Stroud Bookstore, Max Brennan's restaurant, and Battery Park. We stared at Lady Liberty for a while and then stalked a pair of pigeons (Fred and Joanne, we decided) before heading back to his place to eat sandwiches (both of which were made incorrectly) on his roof. We watched the Empire State Building go gay and then went to the movies to see Brave—which was so good! We both enjoyed it. Then Sunday was the parade and Matt came to town and then today was just... chaotic, but... it's a happy crazy.
Matt and I met a guy while we were waiting for the A-train tonight who kind of made us realize just how lucky we are right now. People come to New York City every day, hoping to make a career out of their dreams. This happens in our specific industries quite a bit. And here we are... with jobs at decent companies, a nice place to live, and each other—built in best friends, I suppose. I love it. I love all of it right now. I honestly couldn't ask for anything more.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Ugh, it's hot.
It's 96° and sunny in Manhattan today, and I only have a
10-inch floor fan running and am perfectly cool and relaxed. It may be the
fact that I'm on the first floor, or it may be the brick building… or maybe the
curtains I bought that do such a good job of blocking the light out also block
the heat out? Either way, I came home (after a very long, long, LONG commute),
fully expecting to have to crank the ACs…
And I don't! And it's awesome. I've been obsessing and
stressing about not bringing in too much money right now, and a high electric
bill was one of the concerns floating around in my head. If this apartment can
handle 96°, I can imagine it can handle 100°. And hopefully it won't get much hotter
than that.
SUMMER IN THE CITY really sucks, weather-wise. Everything seems to be air
conditioned, but before you enter the air conditioning, you have to deal with
the thick haze and the pissy New Yorkers. The first really hot day out here, I
was in a slight panic because I knew I'd show up at the office really sweaty
and gross. But then I realized that everyone
shows up sweaty and gross so… I felt better about it. It doesn't even really
bother me anymore.
It's so weird to spend so much time outdoors. My commute to
my old office required me to leave my building, get in my car, drive 20–25
minutes, park, and walk about 20 steps
into the office. Then I'd do the same thing in reverse on the way home. My
commute to my new office requires me to walk about half a block to the subway
stop, ride the A-train about 20 minutes, and then walk a block and a half to
work. It's pretty easy, especially compared to most people's commutes, but it's more
walking than I did in W-B on a daily basis. Which is really sad… It was
convenient in the winter, I suppose, but it wasn't enough.
Same thing with lunches/breaks. At my old office, I'd get up
a few times to go to the bathroom, get a drink… and I'd eat lunch at the same
desk I'd spend all day at. We might go outside and stand in an awkward circle
or sit in the living room (which meant that I didn't even move from my chair)
for break, but we never really had the time to move… stretch our legs… get our
hearts beating. On lunch now, I try to walk as often as possible. Either around
the office block or down to Madison Square Garden. The other day, I walked to
K-Mart on 34th and just explored the aisles. It's just nice to move. And to
have time to talk. And to be outside. It may be 96° today, but I still moved
around a bit. I ended up at Penn Plaza, perched in the shade with gelato, but…
I was still outside! And it was so hot. :(
Within the next couple of days, I need to get new
checking/savings accounts and sign up for a gym membership, then just about
everything on the "to do" list for the move will be finished and I
can finally start a routine. It's really nice to be unpacked, at least. I'm
still missing a box, I think, with a few oven mitts and bath towels, but I have
a feeling it's in one of the boxes in the office, buried under everything Matt
needs to unpack.
WHAT'S REALLY NICE is making my own dinners again. Sure,
most of it is prepared via microwave, but at least some of it is healthy. Corn
on the cob, steamed veggies… I had a piece of Lean Cuisine lasagna with a salad
tonight and last night I heated up some Morningstar meatballs and had them with
corn and veggies. I never felt comfortable enough to do that where I was staying before, so I
ended up either buying dinner somewhere or just heating up a frozen dinner and
retreating to my room. Those days are, thankfully, over.
A few other things I don't miss about my old haunt: sharing
a bathroom and being slightly restricted upon its use; not seeing the people I
lived with ever, but knowing they were there; worrying about how loud my
computer was (I watched a lot of Netflix); and the smell of the apartment. I'm not saying her apartment
smelled bad, I'm just saying… it carried a very heavy scent. I smelled it on
myself when I was sitting in the office, and the clothes in my basket that I
brought over from there smell like it, too.
The whole… smell… thing reminds me of when I came back from
Italy. Our apartment building had a horrible mold/mildew problem, I think, and
I always felt like I smelled horrible. When I came home and dumped my month's
worth of (clean!) clothes out of my suitcase, my mom nearly ran in the other
direction. "I smelled like this for a MONTH!" I remember saying,
jabbing a finger at the pile. In the kitchen in W-B and removed from the scent
that Cagli carried, those clothes smelled worse than they ever had and ever will.
I'm pretty sure I even threw out a few pieces because I couldn't get that scent
to go away.
I THINK I'M GETTING THE HANG of just about everything in
Manhattan, but I know that if I started paying more attention to my surroundings,
I'd be in a better place. I've helped the other interns take the mail probably
ten times now, and I still don't think I could get to Fed Ex or the post office
by myself. I'm too concerned with carrying the mail bag or pushing the cart and
making sure that I don't hit anyone on the sidewalk (or myself in the heels),
so I'm not paying attention to where I'm going. I'm just… following. It's kind
of like how I operate in the car. If I'm a passenger, I have no idea what's
going on. If I don't have to pay attention, I don't.
This neglect got me in a bit of trouble today. I went into
the subway and just got on the first train that stopped, not even thinking to
check which side of the platform I was on. The train said A, so I got on. Then
I started reading. I'm still reading MWF
Seeking BFF and I'm really enjoying it, so I just kind of blocked
everything out. Four stops later, I heard the announcer say that we were
approaching the last stop in Manhattan… And at that point, I hustled off the
train and across the platform. Somehow I'd gotten on the downtown train instead
of the uptown train. It was no big deal, but in the time I was riding downtown,
an "incident" occurred at 59th Street and delayed all the trains
going uptown. So I sat at 14th Street for nearly 20 minutes. Thankfully, I'd
gotten a seat on the uptown train, but I felt bad for everyone standing near me
who had to wait. I didn't get home until 6:30, and typically I've been getting
back here at 5:30. So… I'd say that was a pretty big screw up. Good thing I
didn't have plans! And good thing I had my book! (Which I strongly recommend for any women eager to make friends, whether she's moved to a new city or has lived in the same one her whole life.)
I'll have to watch where I'm going tomorrow... At least I know
I can stay calm when some people would typically be panicking, I suppose. Silver lining!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Ups and Downs of Moving in NYC
I'm on my laptop and watching Big Bang Theory. Little seems to have changed from this time last month...
Except, that's a lie, of course.
SETTLING INTO THE NEW APARTMENT has been pretty easy, actually. My parents helped quite a bit on Saturday and Sunday. It was nice to spend some time with them, even though most of that time was spent assembling furniture, cleaning, and unpacking boxes. (See "before" pictures at the bottom of this post. "After" pictures are in the post from yesterday.) The most impressive part of their trip—to me, at least—was that they made it from the bus to my apartment with very little confusion. From Port Authority to 181st is an easy feat, but not always for out-of-towners who have never before been on a subway. They actually showed up at the same time the movers did.
Oh... this is where I make my plug. If you're looking for something in Washington Heights, The Cloisters, or Fort George, check out Stein-Perry Real Estate. Our broker, Matt Bizzarro, was amazing in every way. He understood what we were looking for, was accepting of what we wanted to spend, and was very supportive during the entire process. The fee wasn't bad, either. I'm very happy with my first experience with a broker/agency. Highly recommended.
If you're in the W-B area and you need a moving company, I highly suggest Best Darn Movers. Joel and his helper, Steve, were great with my move. They loaded everything on Friday night, stopped at the place I was staying temporarily to grab that stuff Saturday morning, and then unloaded everything by 12:30. Their price was great, too. Very professional, very affordable.
ANYWAY, by Saturday night, my parents and I had all the furniture put together and most of the decor hung. My mom took to the kitchen, and I haven't reorganized anything. I like the way she set it up. I'm sure Matt will move stuff around, but that's his job. The kitchen is his domain, and I'm fine with that. Saturday night we went for dinner at an Irish bar down the street and Sunday morning we went for breakfast at a pretty good restaurant down the street. I think all the food was pretty good. Mom's chicken parm was awesome. I'll definitely go back to those places.
On Sunday, after they left, I tried to find a decent supermarket, but failed miserably. There are a ton of little markets and specialty markets (see also: Dominican), but I couldn't find a real grocery store. The one I did stumble upon around the corner had the worst frozen food section I've ever seen. This kind of depressed me, until I realized that the produce at the little markets is pretty fresh... and it makes sense to sub all that frozen food/preservatives/sodium for fresh fruit and veggies. Today, though, I did some Google-ing and came up with Key Foods on 187th. It's similar to Schiels, and smaller than Price Chopper and Wegman's, but it'll do. For me, at least. I'm sure we'll have to do a bit of traveling when Matt wants to go to Whole Foods, but day-to-day or weekly shopping can probably be done at Key Foods.
ASIDE FROM STRESSING about finding a good grocery store, I've been so frustrated with my internet service. The cable is working great. The internet though... Wow. Just, wow. I can actually sit here and watch my computer connect and disconnect to WiFi. And when I call Time Warner, they have me do stupid shit like uninstall Google Chrome or empty my cookies. And then they say there's nothing more that they can do because the modem is sending out a strong signal and it must be the computer. They tell me to monitor my connection over the next few days and call them back if I have any issues.
Well... I've called every day since Saturday. And now I think I'm on some type of list. Today I called because it was connected, but taking almost two minutes to load pages. So I go through the automated options and then it tells me to reset my router (which... I don't have... just a modem), hang up, and call back in 10 minutes. So I wait on the line for an operator, and it tells me to hang up again. It refused to give me an option to speak to someone, no matter how many buttons I pressed or how many times I called back. They must be sick of dealing with me, so they put me on this special service. I can't get through to anyone; it's really irritating.
But then I started thinking about a conversation I had with another intern today about this predicament. She suggested plugging my computer directly into the modem with an ethernet cable. Of course, I made a comment about basically not being able to use my laptop as a laptop at that point, but... I'm desperate. So when I couldn't get a good connection unplugged, I plugged in... and I've been on without any issues every since. Which makes me think... is it the WiFi service? Or is it my computer? My computer is brand new. I just bought it last Christmas, I think. Maybe even a little before that. So the WiFi card shouldn't be outdated, right? But if it's not my computer... then why do my Wii and Kindle and phone work just fine? I don't know how to remedy this problem, so I suppose I'll wait until Matt gets his computer here and we'll see what happens. If he picks up a good signal, then my computer is the problem. If he doesn't, then Time Warner is getting a really nasty phone call...
Ahem.
OTHER ACCOMPLISHMENTS of the past few days include: (hopefully) securing near-future freelance work, setting up a near-future double date in Astoria with a coworker, and unpacking all my boxes. Now all that's left is Matt's stuff, all packed into one room. I hope I left him enough closet/drawer space. We'll find out, I suppose.
Speaking of Matt... he's meeting with Chef at the restaurant where he'll be working next Wednesday. He should be visiting this weekend, and I think we're planning on going to Coney Island if the weather is nice. His last day of work at Rustic is July 8 and he should be moving in July 9. I can't wait to have him around. It's been... weird. Not being able to see him as often as I was. Even when we were "broken up," we saw each other more than this. It's, again, weird, though. Because I don't really mind this separation. Sure, I get lonely sometimes, but there's honestly so much going on that it's easy to manage. I miss him, but I don't feel like my heart's exploding or that I'll die if I don't seem him again soon. I haven't even really cried. Which is even stranger because I'm a natural crier. Always have been, always will be. I think I've just been too busy to focus on how I'm feeling, relationship-wise. All my energy is going into figuring out my new neighborhood, doing the best work I can at my job (which I still love), and making new friends. And I think I'm doing pretty well in all those areas, so... I think it's all working out. (I still can't wait until he gets here, though.)
Tomorrow after work, I think I'm going to go to Planet Fitness and see if it's well-maintained. And if I like what I see, then... I'm signing up! Again. And then I'm working out! Because if I'm going to have pizza for lunch ($1 a slice!), then I should really sweat it off later that same day.
Except, that's a lie, of course.
SETTLING INTO THE NEW APARTMENT has been pretty easy, actually. My parents helped quite a bit on Saturday and Sunday. It was nice to spend some time with them, even though most of that time was spent assembling furniture, cleaning, and unpacking boxes. (See "before" pictures at the bottom of this post. "After" pictures are in the post from yesterday.) The most impressive part of their trip—to me, at least—was that they made it from the bus to my apartment with very little confusion. From Port Authority to 181st is an easy feat, but not always for out-of-towners who have never before been on a subway. They actually showed up at the same time the movers did.
————
Oh... this is where I make my plug. If you're looking for something in Washington Heights, The Cloisters, or Fort George, check out Stein-Perry Real Estate. Our broker, Matt Bizzarro, was amazing in every way. He understood what we were looking for, was accepting of what we wanted to spend, and was very supportive during the entire process. The fee wasn't bad, either. I'm very happy with my first experience with a broker/agency. Highly recommended.
If you're in the W-B area and you need a moving company, I highly suggest Best Darn Movers. Joel and his helper, Steve, were great with my move. They loaded everything on Friday night, stopped at the place I was staying temporarily to grab that stuff Saturday morning, and then unloaded everything by 12:30. Their price was great, too. Very professional, very affordable.
————
ANYWAY, by Saturday night, my parents and I had all the furniture put together and most of the decor hung. My mom took to the kitchen, and I haven't reorganized anything. I like the way she set it up. I'm sure Matt will move stuff around, but that's his job. The kitchen is his domain, and I'm fine with that. Saturday night we went for dinner at an Irish bar down the street and Sunday morning we went for breakfast at a pretty good restaurant down the street. I think all the food was pretty good. Mom's chicken parm was awesome. I'll definitely go back to those places.
On Sunday, after they left, I tried to find a decent supermarket, but failed miserably. There are a ton of little markets and specialty markets (see also: Dominican), but I couldn't find a real grocery store. The one I did stumble upon around the corner had the worst frozen food section I've ever seen. This kind of depressed me, until I realized that the produce at the little markets is pretty fresh... and it makes sense to sub all that frozen food/preservatives/sodium for fresh fruit and veggies. Today, though, I did some Google-ing and came up with Key Foods on 187th. It's similar to Schiels, and smaller than Price Chopper and Wegman's, but it'll do. For me, at least. I'm sure we'll have to do a bit of traveling when Matt wants to go to Whole Foods, but day-to-day or weekly shopping can probably be done at Key Foods.
ASIDE FROM STRESSING about finding a good grocery store, I've been so frustrated with my internet service. The cable is working great. The internet though... Wow. Just, wow. I can actually sit here and watch my computer connect and disconnect to WiFi. And when I call Time Warner, they have me do stupid shit like uninstall Google Chrome or empty my cookies. And then they say there's nothing more that they can do because the modem is sending out a strong signal and it must be the computer. They tell me to monitor my connection over the next few days and call them back if I have any issues.
Well... I've called every day since Saturday. And now I think I'm on some type of list. Today I called because it was connected, but taking almost two minutes to load pages. So I go through the automated options and then it tells me to reset my router (which... I don't have... just a modem), hang up, and call back in 10 minutes. So I wait on the line for an operator, and it tells me to hang up again. It refused to give me an option to speak to someone, no matter how many buttons I pressed or how many times I called back. They must be sick of dealing with me, so they put me on this special service. I can't get through to anyone; it's really irritating.
But then I started thinking about a conversation I had with another intern today about this predicament. She suggested plugging my computer directly into the modem with an ethernet cable. Of course, I made a comment about basically not being able to use my laptop as a laptop at that point, but... I'm desperate. So when I couldn't get a good connection unplugged, I plugged in... and I've been on without any issues every since. Which makes me think... is it the WiFi service? Or is it my computer? My computer is brand new. I just bought it last Christmas, I think. Maybe even a little before that. So the WiFi card shouldn't be outdated, right? But if it's not my computer... then why do my Wii and Kindle and phone work just fine? I don't know how to remedy this problem, so I suppose I'll wait until Matt gets his computer here and we'll see what happens. If he picks up a good signal, then my computer is the problem. If he doesn't, then Time Warner is getting a really nasty phone call...
Ahem.
OTHER ACCOMPLISHMENTS of the past few days include: (hopefully) securing near-future freelance work, setting up a near-future double date in Astoria with a coworker, and unpacking all my boxes. Now all that's left is Matt's stuff, all packed into one room. I hope I left him enough closet/drawer space. We'll find out, I suppose.
Speaking of Matt... he's meeting with Chef at the restaurant where he'll be working next Wednesday. He should be visiting this weekend, and I think we're planning on going to Coney Island if the weather is nice. His last day of work at Rustic is July 8 and he should be moving in July 9. I can't wait to have him around. It's been... weird. Not being able to see him as often as I was. Even when we were "broken up," we saw each other more than this. It's, again, weird, though. Because I don't really mind this separation. Sure, I get lonely sometimes, but there's honestly so much going on that it's easy to manage. I miss him, but I don't feel like my heart's exploding or that I'll die if I don't seem him again soon. I haven't even really cried. Which is even stranger because I'm a natural crier. Always have been, always will be. I think I've just been too busy to focus on how I'm feeling, relationship-wise. All my energy is going into figuring out my new neighborhood, doing the best work I can at my job (which I still love), and making new friends. And I think I'm doing pretty well in all those areas, so... I think it's all working out. (I still can't wait until he gets here, though.)
Tomorrow after work, I think I'm going to go to Planet Fitness and see if it's well-maintained. And if I like what I see, then... I'm signing up! Again. And then I'm working out! Because if I'm going to have pizza for lunch ($1 a slice!), then I should really sweat it off later that same day.
Monday, June 18, 2012
All moved in! (With pictures)
I'm super tired and extremely aggravated with my internet right now, so I don't really have much of an update. I'll save that for tomorrow, when it (hopefully) doesn't take me TWO HOURS to upload 15 photos. Ugh, in any case...
I'M ALL MOVED IN!
And there are pictures in the link below to show you how everything has turned out thus far. There will be photos (and menus, I'm sure) hanging on the blank walls soon enough. And I'm sure when Matt gets here (on July 9th!!! Can't wait!), a few things will be moved around. But until then, it's all me. So... whatevs.
Enjoy!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Make new friends, but keep the old...
Yeah, yeah... One is silver, the other's gold. Ugh, I hated Girl Scouts. But, it's a good title.
TONIGHT'S TOPIC IS FRIENDSHIP. Something everyone wants and needs, regardless of whether they wish to admit it. I was one of those poor saps who used to think all I needed in life was my boyfriend. Well, when I fell off that high horse, it hurt like hell. Apparently, though, I'm not the only person (or should I say, female) who has ever thought this way.
I'm currently reading a hilarious memoir titled MWF Seeking BFF: My Yearlong Search for a New Best Friend and it's really enlightening. Apparently, there are four types of friends: the acquaintance, the casual friend, the close buddy, and the lifer. According to the author's research, every woman should have 3 to 5 lifers, 5 to 12 close friends, 10 to 50 casuals, and 10 to 100 acquaintances. The author also discusses one study that stated women with several close friends live longer and have stronger memory recall past 80 than those who are not social. I want to live longer and I want to remember the names and faces of everyone I love, so... it only makes sense to do what I can to make sure I make friends in NYC.
One of the things I promised myself when Matt and I got back together was that I would never again let myself be without friends. When we broke up, I realized that I had put 100% of my efforts into our relationship. Everything was about making time to spend with him or work on "us." I pushed nearly everyone else away without meaning to—and I truly regret doing so. This was a habit I started in college when I decided to spend as little time on campus as I could in an effort to always be available when he was. I declined invitations to hang out on weekends, I avoided computer labs and the Sub, and I was only really a member of one campus organization. I never made an effort to befriend the people who sat next to me in class, mostly because I didn't think I'd need them. At that point, I figured I was set for life. We planned on moving out of W-B as soon as I graduated, so why waste my time making friends I would only leave behind? Looking back, that was so dumb.
AFTER THE BREAK UP, I could text or call a few people for comfort, but nearly all my friends had left the area. There were a few who stuck around, though. They let me cry on their shoulders (literally) and they spent entire nights on my couch, at the bar, or on my porch, listening to me whine about how miserable I was. I could tell a few months in that the conversation was getting old. No one wanted to hear about how sad I was, and no one wanted to listen to me lie about how I was getting over him. So I tried to stop talking about it altogether. Soon enough, things got better regarding all relationships in my life—from romantic to familial and even friendships. As a result of the break up, I was able to breathe life into a few old friendships that I'd almost let slip away. I was also able to make a few new friends, too. And then, after accomplishing all this, I left home.
Of course, I've offered my second bedroom to anyone who wants to come visit me while I'm out here. Former coworkers, family, friends from school... But I don't expect someone new to come out every single weekend. Due to Matt's work schedule, I'm going to be alone quite a bit. I'm going to have a ton of freelance to do (I hope), but I don't necessarily want to work my life away. I want to be able to meet people for lunch or go shopping with other girls. I want to go see a movie or go for drinks. Matt and I agreed that even though we'd have our own friends, we'd make more of an effort to bring our groups together. Before we do that kind of stuff, however, we're going to need some friends.
I have never been an extremely social person. Large groups of unfamiliar people used to make me very uncomfortable, even if I was with someone I knew well. As a child, I tended to hover near my parents instead of running around with other kids my age. I was more interested in the conversations at the adult table than I ever was making a fort under the kids' table. People used to tell me I was mature for my age. Thinking back on it now, I think I was just scared of rejection or unfair judgment.
THIS FEAR of being picked on or made fun of in high school and even college often kept me from being "fun." I didn't want to go to a club and dance because I was afraid people were going to make fun of my dancing. I didn't want to play games that required too much movement (Twister, Green Ghost, anything on the Kinect...) because I was afraid people were going to think I was uncoordinated or out of shape. I didn't want to meet new people because I didn't think I had anything interesting enough to say to keep the conversation going. Fun, to me, was sitting at Barnes & Noble with a coffee and a stack of books with a friend or two until the store closed. It was sitting in Sheetz's parking lot, people watching. It was going for dinner and staying at the table for two or three hours after we'd finished eating and drinking. It was sitting in my living room at my parents' house, watching a Lifetime movie and making fun of it with my mom.
There's a lyric in my one of my favorite Bayside songs that always makes me think of the way I was living my life then... and the way I want to live it now.
I played this song ("The New Flesh") over and over again when I drove to State College last summer, never relating to a song as much as this one. Every word reminded me of what I was going through and gave me a bit of hope for the future. I wanted to have fun—not necessary fall-on-my-ass drunk and careless fun, but just... fun. I wanted to have hundreds of pictures on Facebook that showed me having a good time with friends. I wanted to be able to tell stories of travels and experiences. For the first time since I was 17 years old, I realized that I wanted a social life.
So I tried to say yes to everything, despite the moods I was in. Most of the plans involved drinking heavily (because, honestly, what else is there to do in W-B?), but at least I was out and about. I met some new people and I crammed all the drinking I didn't do in high school and college into about six weeks between November 2011 and January 2012. By the time my birthday rolled around in February, I was over it. All of it. My focus shifted back to lunches, movies, and shopping with friends and family on the weekends. Sometimes, a few of us would even get together to play video games and we'd sit around and talk into the wee hours of the morning. No matter how hard I tried to be a "party girl," for lack of better words, I realized I didn't have it in me. I'd much rather sit on the porch or the couch all night with a Diet Coke and a close friend than have to deal with crowds, drunk sluts, and the stress of finding a ride home.
NOW I'M IN MANHATTAN, pretty much alone save for a friend from college, and it's time to find people who want to sit with me on my couch, so to speak. I'm trying very hard to make friends with the other interns at work, and I think I may just be succeeding. I g-chat all day with another intern and we've gone to lunch together a few times. We're able to keep a steady conversation going, and that's pretty good. We've made plans to go out and get a few drinks once my move is over.
I'm also making headway with a few of the others. I organized an intern lunch yesterday and five of us ended up with a pretty generous amount of Chinese food ($5 lunchboxes at BOBA on 34th!) and a few good laughs. Then this morning, another intern messaged me and asked me to go for drinks with her and one of the assistants after work. By the end of the day, we'd invited the others. Seven of us ended up at a bar around the corner and we had an amazing time. Everyone talked, everyone laughed, everyone was pretty tipsy, as far as I could tell, which made things easier, I think. It was nice and almost effortless. Everyone seems up for doing it again, as well. I know being friends with coworkers doesn't always turn out for the best—especially interns, whose turnover is pretty high—but it's a good place to start. If I make a few friends who keep in touch once we go our separate ways, I'll be happy. And if they don't, then at least we had fun for a while.
I'm really proud of myself for the progress I've made so far. I've been at my company for two weeks now and I feel like I'm really fitting in. I'm open to new ideas, I do what's asked of me, I'm getting along with everyone around me. Even if I don't stay there long, I think I'll definitely leave with a few good memories. And hopefully a few friends.
TONIGHT'S TOPIC IS FRIENDSHIP. Something everyone wants and needs, regardless of whether they wish to admit it. I was one of those poor saps who used to think all I needed in life was my boyfriend. Well, when I fell off that high horse, it hurt like hell. Apparently, though, I'm not the only person (or should I say, female) who has ever thought this way.
I'm currently reading a hilarious memoir titled MWF Seeking BFF: My Yearlong Search for a New Best Friend and it's really enlightening. Apparently, there are four types of friends: the acquaintance, the casual friend, the close buddy, and the lifer. According to the author's research, every woman should have 3 to 5 lifers, 5 to 12 close friends, 10 to 50 casuals, and 10 to 100 acquaintances. The author also discusses one study that stated women with several close friends live longer and have stronger memory recall past 80 than those who are not social. I want to live longer and I want to remember the names and faces of everyone I love, so... it only makes sense to do what I can to make sure I make friends in NYC.
One of the things I promised myself when Matt and I got back together was that I would never again let myself be without friends. When we broke up, I realized that I had put 100% of my efforts into our relationship. Everything was about making time to spend with him or work on "us." I pushed nearly everyone else away without meaning to—and I truly regret doing so. This was a habit I started in college when I decided to spend as little time on campus as I could in an effort to always be available when he was. I declined invitations to hang out on weekends, I avoided computer labs and the Sub, and I was only really a member of one campus organization. I never made an effort to befriend the people who sat next to me in class, mostly because I didn't think I'd need them. At that point, I figured I was set for life. We planned on moving out of W-B as soon as I graduated, so why waste my time making friends I would only leave behind? Looking back, that was so dumb.
AFTER THE BREAK UP, I could text or call a few people for comfort, but nearly all my friends had left the area. There were a few who stuck around, though. They let me cry on their shoulders (literally) and they spent entire nights on my couch, at the bar, or on my porch, listening to me whine about how miserable I was. I could tell a few months in that the conversation was getting old. No one wanted to hear about how sad I was, and no one wanted to listen to me lie about how I was getting over him. So I tried to stop talking about it altogether. Soon enough, things got better regarding all relationships in my life—from romantic to familial and even friendships. As a result of the break up, I was able to breathe life into a few old friendships that I'd almost let slip away. I was also able to make a few new friends, too. And then, after accomplishing all this, I left home.
Of course, I've offered my second bedroom to anyone who wants to come visit me while I'm out here. Former coworkers, family, friends from school... But I don't expect someone new to come out every single weekend. Due to Matt's work schedule, I'm going to be alone quite a bit. I'm going to have a ton of freelance to do (I hope), but I don't necessarily want to work my life away. I want to be able to meet people for lunch or go shopping with other girls. I want to go see a movie or go for drinks. Matt and I agreed that even though we'd have our own friends, we'd make more of an effort to bring our groups together. Before we do that kind of stuff, however, we're going to need some friends.
I have never been an extremely social person. Large groups of unfamiliar people used to make me very uncomfortable, even if I was with someone I knew well. As a child, I tended to hover near my parents instead of running around with other kids my age. I was more interested in the conversations at the adult table than I ever was making a fort under the kids' table. People used to tell me I was mature for my age. Thinking back on it now, I think I was just scared of rejection or unfair judgment.
THIS FEAR of being picked on or made fun of in high school and even college often kept me from being "fun." I didn't want to go to a club and dance because I was afraid people were going to make fun of my dancing. I didn't want to play games that required too much movement (Twister, Green Ghost, anything on the Kinect...) because I was afraid people were going to think I was uncoordinated or out of shape. I didn't want to meet new people because I didn't think I had anything interesting enough to say to keep the conversation going. Fun, to me, was sitting at Barnes & Noble with a coffee and a stack of books with a friend or two until the store closed. It was sitting in Sheetz's parking lot, people watching. It was going for dinner and staying at the table for two or three hours after we'd finished eating and drinking. It was sitting in my living room at my parents' house, watching a Lifetime movie and making fun of it with my mom.
There's a lyric in my one of my favorite Bayside songs that always makes me think of the way I was living my life then... and the way I want to live it now.
I've never lived and died by ecstasy.
Fun's never been my cup of tea.
But now I try,
but now I try,
but now I try to be
the best I can for no one else but me.
I played this song ("The New Flesh") over and over again when I drove to State College last summer, never relating to a song as much as this one. Every word reminded me of what I was going through and gave me a bit of hope for the future. I wanted to have fun—not necessary fall-on-my-ass drunk and careless fun, but just... fun. I wanted to have hundreds of pictures on Facebook that showed me having a good time with friends. I wanted to be able to tell stories of travels and experiences. For the first time since I was 17 years old, I realized that I wanted a social life.
So I tried to say yes to everything, despite the moods I was in. Most of the plans involved drinking heavily (because, honestly, what else is there to do in W-B?), but at least I was out and about. I met some new people and I crammed all the drinking I didn't do in high school and college into about six weeks between November 2011 and January 2012. By the time my birthday rolled around in February, I was over it. All of it. My focus shifted back to lunches, movies, and shopping with friends and family on the weekends. Sometimes, a few of us would even get together to play video games and we'd sit around and talk into the wee hours of the morning. No matter how hard I tried to be a "party girl," for lack of better words, I realized I didn't have it in me. I'd much rather sit on the porch or the couch all night with a Diet Coke and a close friend than have to deal with crowds, drunk sluts, and the stress of finding a ride home.
NOW I'M IN MANHATTAN, pretty much alone save for a friend from college, and it's time to find people who want to sit with me on my couch, so to speak. I'm trying very hard to make friends with the other interns at work, and I think I may just be succeeding. I g-chat all day with another intern and we've gone to lunch together a few times. We're able to keep a steady conversation going, and that's pretty good. We've made plans to go out and get a few drinks once my move is over.
I'm also making headway with a few of the others. I organized an intern lunch yesterday and five of us ended up with a pretty generous amount of Chinese food ($5 lunchboxes at BOBA on 34th!) and a few good laughs. Then this morning, another intern messaged me and asked me to go for drinks with her and one of the assistants after work. By the end of the day, we'd invited the others. Seven of us ended up at a bar around the corner and we had an amazing time. Everyone talked, everyone laughed, everyone was pretty tipsy, as far as I could tell, which made things easier, I think. It was nice and almost effortless. Everyone seems up for doing it again, as well. I know being friends with coworkers doesn't always turn out for the best—especially interns, whose turnover is pretty high—but it's a good place to start. If I make a few friends who keep in touch once we go our separate ways, I'll be happy. And if they don't, then at least we had fun for a while.
I'm really proud of myself for the progress I've made so far. I've been at my company for two weeks now and I feel like I'm really fitting in. I'm open to new ideas, I do what's asked of me, I'm getting along with everyone around me. Even if I don't stay there long, I think I'll definitely leave with a few good memories. And hopefully a few friends.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
"Your dishwasher is not a garbage disposal."
Yes, Mr. Landlord, I'm very much aware of this. Now, where do I sign?
Despite my disappointment at the thought of not be able to fill my dishwasher with large chunks of uneaten food in the near future, I signed the lease today on our new apartment. I get the keys after work on Friday!
I actually didn't disagree with or have a problem with any of the landlord's rules. The basement is locked after 10pm, so laundry has to be finished beforehand. We're not supposed to try to repair anything ourselves—this includes dead lightbulbs. (Which is a relief, considering the ceilings are like, 12 feet high.) And no dogs in the apartment—even visitors. This last one kind of sucks because Sammy is so cute and huggable and I'd love for him to run around when Matt's parents come to visit, but... apparently the last tenants got kicked out because they violated this rule. So Mr. Landlord is serious. And I like this apartment. Sorry, puppy.
I'M EXCITED to move in and unpack and be surrounded by all my things again. To be able to put tons of food in the fridge and use the bathroom whenever I want. To stop having to explain that I'm staying on 114th now, but won't be by the end of the week. This piece of information seems to baffle people.
I'm actually even anticipating dieting again. And working out. I looked into the gym that's down the street from the new place and it looks do-able. Way more expensive than Planet Fitness will ever be, but... until they put a PF in Washington Heights, I suppose I'll have to find somewhere else to work out. Matt has P90x and I have P90, but sometimes you just really need to get out and be with people. It's motivational, really. The girl next to you is speed walking at 4.5? Well then, you jog at 5.0. The man in front of you has been on the elliptical for how long? 15 minutes? Pfft, you've been going strong for at least 35 now. Motivation. Competition. Whatever you call it, it was working for me. And I miss it. Sure, I'm walking around a lot more than I was in W-B, but in-between all the walking are 20-minute subway rides. And if you're lucky, that involves a lot of sitting.
............ I just found a planet fitness 12 minutes from the apartment! Oh, Google. You and I are meant to be. Look:
And it's near Fort George, which is supposed to be fancy shmancy, so. This is exciting. I'll have to check it out!
It's so weird to think that a year ago, finding a gym close to where I lived wouldn't have phased me. Actually, a year ago, I was 40 pounds heavier and desperately trying to find a way to keep my relationship alive. Working out was the last thing on my mind. Today, the relationship's fine, and after the move, I can put all my efforts into staying healthy and working.
IT'S JUST SO... WEIRD. The way things have worked out. I'm overwhelmed with so many emotions when I think about how much my life has changed in the past month. Actually, it hasn't even been a full month yet. This time last month, I had just received the e-mail from my present coordinator asking me to come in for an interview. Who would have known that this much would unfold in such a short amount of time? Certainly not me. I was about two seconds away from feeling hopeless. Matt and I had talked about making the big move in September. And it's not even the middle of June yet and here I am, getting ready to move into an apartment of my own in Manhattan, with him trailing behind me soon. It's just... mind-blowing. It really is. I keep waiting to wake up, to realize that everything's been a big dream (like in the series finale of Roseanne. LAME.), but... it's not. It's real.
And the cherry on top the ice cream sundae that has become my life?
The dishwasher.
Which, in case you didn't hear, isn't a garbage disposal. Just FYI.
PS: If you're interested in seeing some pics of the area where we're living, I took a few while I was waiting outside the building for the broker today. Click the link below.
Despite my disappointment at the thought of not be able to fill my dishwasher with large chunks of uneaten food in the near future, I signed the lease today on our new apartment. I get the keys after work on Friday!
I actually didn't disagree with or have a problem with any of the landlord's rules. The basement is locked after 10pm, so laundry has to be finished beforehand. We're not supposed to try to repair anything ourselves—this includes dead lightbulbs. (Which is a relief, considering the ceilings are like, 12 feet high.) And no dogs in the apartment—even visitors. This last one kind of sucks because Sammy is so cute and huggable and I'd love for him to run around when Matt's parents come to visit, but... apparently the last tenants got kicked out because they violated this rule. So Mr. Landlord is serious. And I like this apartment. Sorry, puppy.
I'M EXCITED to move in and unpack and be surrounded by all my things again. To be able to put tons of food in the fridge and use the bathroom whenever I want. To stop having to explain that I'm staying on 114th now, but won't be by the end of the week. This piece of information seems to baffle people.
I'm actually even anticipating dieting again. And working out. I looked into the gym that's down the street from the new place and it looks do-able. Way more expensive than Planet Fitness will ever be, but... until they put a PF in Washington Heights, I suppose I'll have to find somewhere else to work out. Matt has P90x and I have P90, but sometimes you just really need to get out and be with people. It's motivational, really. The girl next to you is speed walking at 4.5? Well then, you jog at 5.0. The man in front of you has been on the elliptical for how long? 15 minutes? Pfft, you've been going strong for at least 35 now. Motivation. Competition. Whatever you call it, it was working for me. And I miss it. Sure, I'm walking around a lot more than I was in W-B, but in-between all the walking are 20-minute subway rides. And if you're lucky, that involves a lot of sitting.
............ I just found a planet fitness 12 minutes from the apartment! Oh, Google. You and I are meant to be. Look:
And it's near Fort George, which is supposed to be fancy shmancy, so. This is exciting. I'll have to check it out!
It's so weird to think that a year ago, finding a gym close to where I lived wouldn't have phased me. Actually, a year ago, I was 40 pounds heavier and desperately trying to find a way to keep my relationship alive. Working out was the last thing on my mind. Today, the relationship's fine, and after the move, I can put all my efforts into staying healthy and working.
IT'S JUST SO... WEIRD. The way things have worked out. I'm overwhelmed with so many emotions when I think about how much my life has changed in the past month. Actually, it hasn't even been a full month yet. This time last month, I had just received the e-mail from my present coordinator asking me to come in for an interview. Who would have known that this much would unfold in such a short amount of time? Certainly not me. I was about two seconds away from feeling hopeless. Matt and I had talked about making the big move in September. And it's not even the middle of June yet and here I am, getting ready to move into an apartment of my own in Manhattan, with him trailing behind me soon. It's just... mind-blowing. It really is. I keep waiting to wake up, to realize that everything's been a big dream (like in the series finale of Roseanne. LAME.), but... it's not. It's real.
And the cherry on top the ice cream sundae that has become my life?
The dishwasher.
Which, in case you didn't hear, isn't a garbage disposal. Just FYI.
PS: If you're interested in seeing some pics of the area where we're living, I took a few while I was waiting outside the building for the broker today. Click the link below.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Currently Lost, Eventually Found
Sometimes I miss the days of LiveJournal and GreatestJournal, just because they had the options to list what music you're listening to and to pick an emoticon for your mood. Oh, to be 14 again... What a miserable time. Let's not go back there, shall we? On to the present...
I'm minutes away from doing my hair and picking out clothes for tomorrow. It's just a regular day of work, but afterward I'm heading to Hudson Heights to sign the lease for the apartment. I want to look professional and intelligent—unlike the lost and confused child I feel like as I wander around the city, taking wrong turns and fighting panic attacks every other day. Speaking of...
I GOT LOST IN HARLEM last week. I'd never taken the C train before and didn't realize that even though it drops off at 116th Street, it's on the other side of the park. And thus, in an area I was totally unfamiliar with. And of course it was 80 degrees and sometimes raining. And of course I was in flip flops. And of course my jeans were too long and were absorbing water as I walked through one puddle after another. And of course my phone was on 11% and my GPS was telling me to scale buildings, climb trees, and walk on water. I treated myself to a giant chicken fajita wrap when I finally figured out where I was. What a pain in the ass. I won't make that mistake again tomorrow.
(For the record, I could've hailed a cab, but I was on 114th Street and didn't want to get laughed at. It was still a 20-minute walk through the park and up the hill, but I didn't want to be the stupid, lazy little girl who hails a cab and asks the driver to take her up the street.)
I'm looking forward to the rest of this week. Andrew's taking me to a party in Brooklyn on Friday and moving day is Saturday! And Sunday is hopefully full of stress-free unpacking and maybe some really greasy, wonderful food. Then Monday begins an adaptation of my old routine. Work, dinner, work out, freelance in front of the television! Wash, rinse, repeat.
Matt's meeting with Chef now to try to set a date for his last day at work. I'm anxious to find out what they'll agree on. I really want him to have July 1, so he can be out here for July 4 and we'll have all day to explore. But I also know that in the restaurant world, every holiday is treated like Christmas and I'm feeling like Chef is going to try to get him to stay through the week of the 4th. Which will bum me out, but... I just keep reminding myself that he's coming. He's really coming. I just have to be patient a bit longer.
I CAN'T WAIT TO FEEL SETTLED AGAIN. I'm sick of feeling so temporary. I don't technically have a home right now, and I don't like it at all. It's hard to bounce around from place to place, knowing that you won't be there long. It's almost like... a constant nagging not to get too comfortable. Don't pick a shelf in the fridge for your food because you won't be putting food there in four days. Don't bother hanging those clothes; you'll just have to pack them later. Don't bother learning the area you're in now because you probably won't walk through it often. It's like being on vacation, but not as fun.
Off to do my hair, pick out my clothes, put my laundry "away," and get some sleep. Another long day tomorrow.
I'm minutes away from doing my hair and picking out clothes for tomorrow. It's just a regular day of work, but afterward I'm heading to Hudson Heights to sign the lease for the apartment. I want to look professional and intelligent—unlike the lost and confused child I feel like as I wander around the city, taking wrong turns and fighting panic attacks every other day. Speaking of...
I GOT LOST IN HARLEM last week. I'd never taken the C train before and didn't realize that even though it drops off at 116th Street, it's on the other side of the park. And thus, in an area I was totally unfamiliar with. And of course it was 80 degrees and sometimes raining. And of course I was in flip flops. And of course my jeans were too long and were absorbing water as I walked through one puddle after another. And of course my phone was on 11% and my GPS was telling me to scale buildings, climb trees, and walk on water. I treated myself to a giant chicken fajita wrap when I finally figured out where I was. What a pain in the ass. I won't make that mistake again tomorrow.
(For the record, I could've hailed a cab, but I was on 114th Street and didn't want to get laughed at. It was still a 20-minute walk through the park and up the hill, but I didn't want to be the stupid, lazy little girl who hails a cab and asks the driver to take her up the street.)
I'm looking forward to the rest of this week. Andrew's taking me to a party in Brooklyn on Friday and moving day is Saturday! And Sunday is hopefully full of stress-free unpacking and maybe some really greasy, wonderful food. Then Monday begins an adaptation of my old routine. Work, dinner, work out, freelance in front of the television! Wash, rinse, repeat.
Matt's meeting with Chef now to try to set a date for his last day at work. I'm anxious to find out what they'll agree on. I really want him to have July 1, so he can be out here for July 4 and we'll have all day to explore. But I also know that in the restaurant world, every holiday is treated like Christmas and I'm feeling like Chef is going to try to get him to stay through the week of the 4th. Which will bum me out, but... I just keep reminding myself that he's coming. He's really coming. I just have to be patient a bit longer.
I CAN'T WAIT TO FEEL SETTLED AGAIN. I'm sick of feeling so temporary. I don't technically have a home right now, and I don't like it at all. It's hard to bounce around from place to place, knowing that you won't be there long. It's almost like... a constant nagging not to get too comfortable. Don't pick a shelf in the fridge for your food because you won't be putting food there in four days. Don't bother hanging those clothes; you'll just have to pack them later. Don't bother learning the area you're in now because you probably won't walk through it often. It's like being on vacation, but not as fun.
Off to do my hair, pick out my clothes, put my laundry "away," and get some sleep. Another long day tomorrow.
Ups and Downs
The plan for tonight was to get off the bus, get off the subway, go grocery shopping, shower, and go to sleep. Well... after the shower, I was more awake than I've been all day. So I ate half a bag of Thai sweet chili-flavored Pop Chips, spent 20 minutes talking to my landlord/person, and changed my address on every single credit card account I have. And I'm on my second episode of Mad Men.
This weekend was... long. And kind of sad. I mean, everything is really exciting right now and I have absolutely no complaints, but I was overcome with a few waves of sadness this weekend. At one point, I was sitting in my bedroom, drawers open, boxes all over the place, and just getting teary-eyed. I'm not really too attached to my apartment, but knowing that I won't be living above my grandparents anymore is sad. Realizing that I can't just call my mom and see if she wants to go shopping on Saturday mornings is disappointing. Thinking that I probably won't see Matt for a while now is really... sucky...
AT THE SAME TIME... I'm excited about moving into a new place and looking forward to exploring the area. I'm really can't wait to have my own kitchen again and cook (... defrost ...) healthier and more interesting dinners at night again. And I'm really looking forward to working out again, even if it's not in a gym for a while. I'm thrilled to finally be living with Matt—when he gets to the Manhattan. Which... should hopefully be in the next few weeks. Hopefully less than a month. We're not entirely sure. He's almost positive he has a job waiting for him in Soho, though, so that's one less thing to worry about.
This weekend was all packing, all the time. My apartment, Matt's bedroom, my grandparents' front room. I drove a truck for the first time ever and survived the experience. We bought a computer desk, we ate with my family, we got so much done today... But it was just like every other day in the past month. Nonstop. Feeling like I'm going to run out of time at any second and worrying that I'll forget to do something extremely important. I've been so on-edge lately; I can't wait to finally be settled.
Speaking of... I have to email the moving company before I forget... And I need to stop eating these g.d. Pop Chips!
This weekend was... long. And kind of sad. I mean, everything is really exciting right now and I have absolutely no complaints, but I was overcome with a few waves of sadness this weekend. At one point, I was sitting in my bedroom, drawers open, boxes all over the place, and just getting teary-eyed. I'm not really too attached to my apartment, but knowing that I won't be living above my grandparents anymore is sad. Realizing that I can't just call my mom and see if she wants to go shopping on Saturday mornings is disappointing. Thinking that I probably won't see Matt for a while now is really... sucky...
AT THE SAME TIME... I'm excited about moving into a new place and looking forward to exploring the area. I'm really can't wait to have my own kitchen again and cook (... defrost ...) healthier and more interesting dinners at night again. And I'm really looking forward to working out again, even if it's not in a gym for a while. I'm thrilled to finally be living with Matt—when he gets to the Manhattan. Which... should hopefully be in the next few weeks. Hopefully less than a month. We're not entirely sure. He's almost positive he has a job waiting for him in Soho, though, so that's one less thing to worry about.
This weekend was all packing, all the time. My apartment, Matt's bedroom, my grandparents' front room. I drove a truck for the first time ever and survived the experience. We bought a computer desk, we ate with my family, we got so much done today... But it was just like every other day in the past month. Nonstop. Feeling like I'm going to run out of time at any second and worrying that I'll forget to do something extremely important. I've been so on-edge lately; I can't wait to finally be settled.
Speaking of... I have to email the moving company before I forget... And I need to stop eating these g.d. Pop Chips!
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Our first place! (Before)
Another full day of proofreading... Not that I mind it, but I wish the subject matter was a little more interesting. I must be doing a decent job of it, though, because the editorial assistant I'm working with requested me and two other people specifically to work over time this weekend. Unfortunately, I can't do it because I'll be going home to pack, but I expressed an interest and I hope the opportunity comes up again. Time and a half is a good incentive!
Anyway, after work, I hopped on the A-train and went all the way to 181st Street, where I met my broker to walk through the apartment. My expectations were high, and I wasn't disappointed. When we first met with the broker, he showed us an apartment on the fifth (or was it seventh?) floor where a friend of his lived. He said every two-bedroom unit in the apartment was structured the same way, so the first-floor apartment that we were interested in would look similar. Well, it did. Sans a few things...
MORE CLOSET SPACE! Apparently the super used to live in the apartment, so he got rid of the second door leading into the master bedroom and added more closet space. The ceilings are incredibly high—maybe 12 feet? higher??—and above the closets are additional shelves. Which means.... there will be plenty of room for our books and my candles! lol. Because, ya know, that's all that matters. Another thing that was different was that the kitchen's open space is near the window instead of next to the refrigerator. And that's fine. We'll probably put a baker's rack somewhere. Just need to measure and figure out where.
I sign the lease Tuesday and am moving in Saturday. Hopefully Matt will be down to visit sometime early next week (God forbid he get Father's Day off!) and we can set it up the way we both want it. I can't wait to be able to move about freely and not share a bathroom. I haven't seen one of my roommates in more than a week. Isn't that odd?
Speaking of roommates/neighbors... The broker introduced me to a guy who lives in the building (I can't remember his name now) and who was one of the first people the broker ever placed in the building. He's been there six years and used to live in a two-bedroom, but moved to a three-bedroom when he and his wife started having kids. They have two or three kids now and he said they love the neighborhood. He said it's safe, the street is always busy (not like crazy busy or shady busy), and that I'll love it there. Then I met another girl whose moving into a studio on the fifth floor. She seemed... impatient. Don't know what will come of that. Either way, exciting!
Click the link below for pics! Next Saturday, the cleaning and unpacking begins! For now, though, I need to get everything in boxes. Home to my apartment in W-B tomorrow for the last time. Guess when I visit, I'll bunk at my mom's. Yay, comfy couch!
Anyway, after work, I hopped on the A-train and went all the way to 181st Street, where I met my broker to walk through the apartment. My expectations were high, and I wasn't disappointed. When we first met with the broker, he showed us an apartment on the fifth (or was it seventh?) floor where a friend of his lived. He said every two-bedroom unit in the apartment was structured the same way, so the first-floor apartment that we were interested in would look similar. Well, it did. Sans a few things...
MORE CLOSET SPACE! Apparently the super used to live in the apartment, so he got rid of the second door leading into the master bedroom and added more closet space. The ceilings are incredibly high—maybe 12 feet? higher??—and above the closets are additional shelves. Which means.... there will be plenty of room for our books and my candles! lol. Because, ya know, that's all that matters. Another thing that was different was that the kitchen's open space is near the window instead of next to the refrigerator. And that's fine. We'll probably put a baker's rack somewhere. Just need to measure and figure out where.
I sign the lease Tuesday and am moving in Saturday. Hopefully Matt will be down to visit sometime early next week (God forbid he get Father's Day off!) and we can set it up the way we both want it. I can't wait to be able to move about freely and not share a bathroom. I haven't seen one of my roommates in more than a week. Isn't that odd?
Speaking of roommates/neighbors... The broker introduced me to a guy who lives in the building (I can't remember his name now) and who was one of the first people the broker ever placed in the building. He's been there six years and used to live in a two-bedroom, but moved to a three-bedroom when he and his wife started having kids. They have two or three kids now and he said they love the neighborhood. He said it's safe, the street is always busy (not like crazy busy or shady busy), and that I'll love it there. Then I met another girl whose moving into a studio on the fifth floor. She seemed... impatient. Don't know what will come of that. Either way, exciting!
Click the link below for pics! Next Saturday, the cleaning and unpacking begins! For now, though, I need to get everything in boxes. Home to my apartment in W-B tomorrow for the last time. Guess when I visit, I'll bunk at my mom's. Yay, comfy couch!
Just Another Day in Manhattan
So... my last post got 20 hits. And no comments. Not to sound like a brat, but... if I'm writing all this for you, then I think you can probably write a few lines back, right? I'd like some feedback—tell me what you think! I'd like to know who's reading and if those readers want to know more about any particular topic I've discussed. Ask me questions; I have nothing to hide. :)
—————
TODAY WAS... long. But I'm not complaining. I spent all day proofreading two sections of an upcoming book for any and all errors. For me, this is fun. The topic could have been a bit more interesting, but whatever. At my old job, I think I proofread material (that wasn't mine to begin with) maybe twice. I was an editor, but none of my assignments ever really included editing. Now, I'm an intern... and they're handing me 150-page stacks and asking me to read through them for errors. And so I sat with my red pencil, occasionally borrowing a sharpener from the girl who sits in the cubical behind me, and I read for errors. Decimal points in the wrong places, adjectives that should/should not have been hyphenated, numerals that should/should not be spelled out, stylistic errors, inconsistencies in capitalization, etc. etc. (You don't want to know how many times I found the incorrect spelling of the color gray. It made me a little sad...)
Anyway, since the book I was working on was top priority, I didn't get to run any errands or take the mail out, but I made up for it while I walked around the block on my lunch. As the days pass, I'm going to try to head in different directions and see what else is around. I found a new Dunkin Donuts today, since the one I was frequenting kept making my coffee with skim milk, which pretty much means it was trash from the start. I can't wait until I'm moved into my new place so I can make coffee in the morning. Or, I suppose I could just drink the coffee in the office. They have a machine and the K-cups are available for public consumption. (How 'bout that!) I just haven't felt comfortable enough to use any office supplies or anything yet; I hate when new people in any environment walk in like they own the place and are entitled to everything in it. I don't want people to view me that way, so I'm slowly introducing myself to the office. (And I finally stopped getting lost in the maze of cubicles that is the office.)
I'M REALLY LOOKING FORWARD to tomorrow. I'm meeting my broker at the apartment after work to walk through it and make sure it's what we really, really want. I'm going to take measurements of every room so I can see for sure which furniture I'm taking (and what I'm leaving behind... Sad...) and I'm going to look in every cabinet and closet. I'm also going to take pictures, which I'll promptly post tomorrow night! This weekend, I'll finish packing my books, my bedroom, my living room, and my bathroom and then that's it—I won't be returning to my very first apartment for probably some time. I will, however, see all my things again in the very first apartment Matt and I share. And that makes a bittersweet turn of events easier to manage.
Matt's parents are being amazingly supportive about this whole thing, as is his boss. I was with him when he called Chef on Sunday afternoon and it all went smoothly. Chef gave him his blessing, basically, and assured Matt that he would always have a spot in his kitchen if he needed it. (I got no such blessing, by the way. But... whatever.) Yesterday, Matt heard from a friend who said that he could most likely get him in a job in Manhattan, so that's another plus. Everything's working out for him, too, and I'm glad everyone in his life is so supportive (sans a friend or two, but... again... whatever). I worried a bit that his parents wouldn't be too enthusiastic, but his dad emailed me on Monday for our new address and his mom apparently started packing his DVDs and video games for him the other day. They went through the attic today and she showed him all the stuff she'd put aside for this type of move, too. I plan on going over the house this weekend to talk to them about everything, so we'll see how that goes. Seems like it'd go well, but you never know...
Should really get to bed. I didn't get any work done tonight, but I did get to see The Avengers again, so I don't care much. Took these pictures while I was waiting for Andrew to get to the theater. I'm no photographer, but in an attempt to document more, I figured I'd snap a few.
67th Street and Broadway
TODAY WAS... long. But I'm not complaining. I spent all day proofreading two sections of an upcoming book for any and all errors. For me, this is fun. The topic could have been a bit more interesting, but whatever. At my old job, I think I proofread material (that wasn't mine to begin with) maybe twice. I was an editor, but none of my assignments ever really included editing. Now, I'm an intern... and they're handing me 150-page stacks and asking me to read through them for errors. And so I sat with my red pencil, occasionally borrowing a sharpener from the girl who sits in the cubical behind me, and I read for errors. Decimal points in the wrong places, adjectives that should/should not have been hyphenated, numerals that should/should not be spelled out, stylistic errors, inconsistencies in capitalization, etc. etc. (You don't want to know how many times I found the incorrect spelling of the color gray. It made me a little sad...)
Anyway, since the book I was working on was top priority, I didn't get to run any errands or take the mail out, but I made up for it while I walked around the block on my lunch. As the days pass, I'm going to try to head in different directions and see what else is around. I found a new Dunkin Donuts today, since the one I was frequenting kept making my coffee with skim milk, which pretty much means it was trash from the start. I can't wait until I'm moved into my new place so I can make coffee in the morning. Or, I suppose I could just drink the coffee in the office. They have a machine and the K-cups are available for public consumption. (How 'bout that!) I just haven't felt comfortable enough to use any office supplies or anything yet; I hate when new people in any environment walk in like they own the place and are entitled to everything in it. I don't want people to view me that way, so I'm slowly introducing myself to the office. (And I finally stopped getting lost in the maze of cubicles that is the office.)
I'M REALLY LOOKING FORWARD to tomorrow. I'm meeting my broker at the apartment after work to walk through it and make sure it's what we really, really want. I'm going to take measurements of every room so I can see for sure which furniture I'm taking (and what I'm leaving behind... Sad...) and I'm going to look in every cabinet and closet. I'm also going to take pictures, which I'll promptly post tomorrow night! This weekend, I'll finish packing my books, my bedroom, my living room, and my bathroom and then that's it—I won't be returning to my very first apartment for probably some time. I will, however, see all my things again in the very first apartment Matt and I share. And that makes a bittersweet turn of events easier to manage.
Matt's parents are being amazingly supportive about this whole thing, as is his boss. I was with him when he called Chef on Sunday afternoon and it all went smoothly. Chef gave him his blessing, basically, and assured Matt that he would always have a spot in his kitchen if he needed it. (I got no such blessing, by the way. But... whatever.) Yesterday, Matt heard from a friend who said that he could most likely get him in a job in Manhattan, so that's another plus. Everything's working out for him, too, and I'm glad everyone in his life is so supportive (sans a friend or two, but... again... whatever). I worried a bit that his parents wouldn't be too enthusiastic, but his dad emailed me on Monday for our new address and his mom apparently started packing his DVDs and video games for him the other day. They went through the attic today and she showed him all the stuff she'd put aside for this type of move, too. I plan on going over the house this weekend to talk to them about everything, so we'll see how that goes. Seems like it'd go well, but you never know...
Should really get to bed. I didn't get any work done tonight, but I did get to see The Avengers again, so I don't care much. Took these pictures while I was waiting for Andrew to get to the theater. I'm no photographer, but in an attempt to document more, I figured I'd snap a few.
Loew's Theater on Lincoln Square
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
It's all coming together...
If I believed in signs or fate or any of that, I may have thought the clouds ahead of the bus on the way back to Manhattan were trying to tell me something. Turns out... they didn't mean a damn thing. The past few days have been pretty awesome!
Everything is still unfolding at lightning-fast speeds, though. It's wearing me down—I ended up taking a three and a half hour nap last night because I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Although everything seems pretty much nonstop, it's all good stuff so far... And honestly, not to sound like a douche, but I think I deserve it.
LAST SUMMER into early 2012 included some of the worst moments of my life thus far. From losing a grandmother I barely knew—but, regrettably, wish I had known better—to breaking up with the only guy I'd ever loved, everything sucked. I was unhappy at work, I was unhappy at home... There was no getting away from it. I had to fight to get my friends' attention and found it difficult to reconnect with many of them, no matter how hard I tried. I had to get up the courage to move out on my own and learn how to take care of myself. I had to grow the eff up, basically.
And... I think I did it. I think I'm a better, stronger, more mature person today than I was at this point last year. Exactly a year ago, I was hunting for jobs in San Francisco, naively thinking Matt was serious about moving there. I was ready to part with my family and my past to cross the country with him and start over. Little did I know, two weeks later, he would break my heart into a million little pieces. It would take me more than eight months to gather those pieces and put my my heart back together. To be honest, I still don't think everything's back in its rightful place. But... that's okay. The missing pieces are within reach. I just need a bit more time to figure out where they go in the puzzle that has become my life.
I said this to Chatti today: "This is ALMOST what happy looks like." And I meant it. Everything is slowly falling into place. Everything I've wanted for so long—to work in publishing in New York, to share a space with Matt, to switch my life's course—is almost here. I can't describe how relieved I am that this is finally happening. I don't doubt for a single second that I made the right decision coming here. Sure, money will probably be tight for a while, but if I was truly concerned about money, I would've stayed in northeastern Pennsylvania and remained unfulfilled and miserable professionally.
INTERNING HAS BEEN GOOD TO ME so far. My company and the people I work with have been good to me. I'm trying really hard to earn positive feedback—and to make friends. I don't want to be one of those girls who moves to another state and only has her boyfriend as company. Matt will be working way too much to rely on socially. I need to make my own, new friends. I figured it'd be easiest to start with the people I work with since we're all around the same age and clearly have common interests. In fact, another intern and I went to lunch on Monday and it was awesome. I was at my last company for more than three years over all, and not once did I take my lunch out of the office with a coworker. We all awkwardly ate together at a long table in the conference room two or three times, but those experiences were painful. Nothing like nine women staring at each other as they eat (or don't eat, or pretend to eat), eyeing the dessert but knowing that everyone at the table will silently judge them if they reach for it.
Aside from making friends at work, I'm also learning how to navigate the city through the errands they send me on. I've taken the mail to Fed Ex and the post office with a few others three or four times now, and I know that if I start paying attention to where we're going instead of to the cart that bashes into my heels/ankles every few seconds, I'll remember where I'm going. I may get lost going back to Penn Station to catch the 1 train back to my room, but I know how to get to PS 87 on 78th Street with two cart fulls of boxed books. I know how to hail a cab (thanks for the lesson on lights, Andrew!) and I know how to get to the office where our promotional posters are printed.
I've worked on assignments ranging from reader's reviews (reading book proposals and filling out a form stating whether I believe the company should publish the book) to inserting editorial corrections into PDFs to proofreading parts of an upcoming publication. I've done this work for seven different people in the five days I've worked in the office. And I've received positive feedback from all of them. I make sure they know my name, and some of them know my story, and I want to prove to them that I would eventually be a good permanent employee. The interns received an email about an open editorial assistant position for the sports imprint today and I figured I'd show my superiors that I was interested in this future by applying. Do I really want to work with sports? Why not? I write all the athletes' bios for my old company, anyway. It's an interest of mine, even if I'm no longer active in any of them. Of course, I haven't been with the company as long as some of the other interns, so I'm not sure that I'll even be considered, but I do think I meet all the qualifications. I can talk football with the rest of them. If I had a television in this room, the NFL channel would probably be on. Preseason is approaching, after all. I ordered the NFL package on Direct TV last year, for crying out loud. But... football is not all sports, so... I'd need to brush up on my baseball stats and golf lingo, I suppose. But I'd willingly do it for a bigger paycheck and health insurance!
I'M GETTING USED TO the job and to the city. The crowds aren't phasing me as much, the beggars may as well not exist, and I've managed to find a way to read my book on the train to and from work whether I'm standing or sitting. I can even swipe my metro card at the speed necessary to receive the "GO!" prompt. Every time I do it—five times in a row, now!—I feel that much better about myself. It's like a pat on the back, or a signal to anyone following me through the turnstile that regardless of my less than two weeks in the city, I'm part of it now. If only I could stop getting lost trying to find the subway on the way home from work...
Monday, June 4, 2012
(Dis)Honoring Unwritten Agreements
Apparently, I have a hard time with this aspect of life. I just keep screwing people over left and right and am spending many hours of my life wrestling with feelings of guilt and just overall shitty-ness. It's times like these where I wish I didn't care about what other people thought of me so much; I wish I could be one of those inconsiderate assholes who doesn't listen to anyone and isn't affected by what other people say and do. Like the people who cancel plans with you ten minutes before you leave the house. Or—even better—the people who don't show up at all and don't feel an ounce of guilt or regret for their despicable behavior.
TO GET TO THE POINT... (And I want to make it especially clear that I'm not "airing my dirty laundry" or talking shit on this woman behind her back. I'm simply stating my frustrations and my personal feelings right now.) I told the woman I'm living with that I would need a room for a month. I moved in on May 28, and I expected to be out by June 28. Maybe July 1, depending on what kind of apartments I found. I said I'd start looking for a place to live as soon as I got to town and I truly believed that I wouldn't find anything of my liking for weeks. I was so stressed about apartment hunting; I never, ever thought I would find something we both liked for an affordable price on the very first day we looked. I honest to God thought I'd be here the full month.
But then we found a place. And we like it—a lot. We're super excited to move in and start our lives together in NYC. And (unbelievably, for me at least), we both feel this way. We're on the same page, we're asking the same questions, we're ready—although we're both a little scared—to do this. Clearly, my mind is full of "what if"s and other questions, so the last thing I want to deal with is more stress. But, I suppose I asked for it...
I BROKE OUR AGREEMENT. I said I'd stay here a month, expecting to truly need a full month. And now I don't. And the woman I'm living with his angry, for a number of reasons that I completely understand. First, I'm not paying her the amount we agreed on because I won't be here a full month. Second, she told me to stay away from a certain area, and I've decided to move there anyway. I thought of a third earlier, but now I forget it. Regardless, I felt horrible about this decision before I even made it. I asked for a July 1 move-in date and the landlord pushed for June 15. We didn't want to lose the apartment, and he'd already agreed to take the rent down a bit for us, so I agreed to June 15. I need somewhere to live; I can't tell him to shove off. It's not like I did this on purpose. It's not like I set out thinking that I would just use her and her bedroom and then leave her in the dust. I offered to pay the full amount, and she refused to accept it. I listened to and considering her warnings about the area we are choosing to live in, and I respect her opinions, but I can't make this decision based on one person's warnings.
THIS NEEDS TO BE SAID, so I apologize for digressing a bit: I have done my research, I have spoken to multiple brokers now, and I keep finding the same answer. To quote Steve Perre from Good Times Realty (Check him out if you need a place to live in NYC!):
"The area is fine and safe. They say west of Broadway tends to be a safer / nicer area. As a member of the extended family, I don't mind being quite frank. Anytime you're talking about an area that's been gentrified certain people panic, lol. With that said, I can attest to the fact that you're good to go."
Now, Steve is not my broker. He is a friend of my aunt's and he is not looking for a sale or to rip me off. He offered to help me out and answer any questions I had about any neighborhoods in New York and so I emailed him when people started giving me crap about the area we were looking in. He has no reason to be dishonest with me. He could've said, "You'll hate it there. You'll constantly be in danger. Your broker is scum. Come with me and I'll show you a nicer place to live! I want you to pay my fees!" But he didn't. I trust him; my aunt trusts him; his girlfriend trusts him; his girlfriend's mother trusts him. I trust his opinion.
SO, BACK TO THIS WHOLE THING... I feel like crap. I feel so guilty about not fulfilling my end of the agreement. Every time someone mentions this arrangement in the future, I'm going to reflect upon it poorly. And I know I'm going to do it, because that's kind of how I'm feeling about what I did to my old office. I never signed a contract stating that I needed to give two weeks' notice before I quit, but it's typically understood in the business world. I couldn't give two weeks, though. He wanted me on May 28, I pushed for June 4, and we settled at May 30. I only had twelve days to find a place to stay, pack, and figure out how to move to NYC. It's just like this move: I didn't expect it to be so soon, but it is, and I have to find a way to deal with it. Part of me felt horribly guilty that I couldn't give my old boss better notice. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity I'd been given, just like I can't pass up the apartment we found.
I know people have bigger problems in life, and I really shouldn't waste time whining about this one, but I've just been feeling so bad about it. I avoided her all Thursday night, even though I guess we were supposed to talk about it, and then I did not want to come back today. I dreaded walking in this building from the time I boarded the bus in W-B to the time I put my key in the door here because I knew a confrontation was waiting for me inside. How many more will there be? How long can I hide from someone in their own home? When will I stop carrying this crappy feeling around with me?
TO GET TO THE POINT... (And I want to make it especially clear that I'm not "airing my dirty laundry" or talking shit on this woman behind her back. I'm simply stating my frustrations and my personal feelings right now.) I told the woman I'm living with that I would need a room for a month. I moved in on May 28, and I expected to be out by June 28. Maybe July 1, depending on what kind of apartments I found. I said I'd start looking for a place to live as soon as I got to town and I truly believed that I wouldn't find anything of my liking for weeks. I was so stressed about apartment hunting; I never, ever thought I would find something we both liked for an affordable price on the very first day we looked. I honest to God thought I'd be here the full month.
But then we found a place. And we like it—a lot. We're super excited to move in and start our lives together in NYC. And (unbelievably, for me at least), we both feel this way. We're on the same page, we're asking the same questions, we're ready—although we're both a little scared—to do this. Clearly, my mind is full of "what if"s and other questions, so the last thing I want to deal with is more stress. But, I suppose I asked for it...
I BROKE OUR AGREEMENT. I said I'd stay here a month, expecting to truly need a full month. And now I don't. And the woman I'm living with his angry, for a number of reasons that I completely understand. First, I'm not paying her the amount we agreed on because I won't be here a full month. Second, she told me to stay away from a certain area, and I've decided to move there anyway. I thought of a third earlier, but now I forget it. Regardless, I felt horrible about this decision before I even made it. I asked for a July 1 move-in date and the landlord pushed for June 15. We didn't want to lose the apartment, and he'd already agreed to take the rent down a bit for us, so I agreed to June 15. I need somewhere to live; I can't tell him to shove off. It's not like I did this on purpose. It's not like I set out thinking that I would just use her and her bedroom and then leave her in the dust. I offered to pay the full amount, and she refused to accept it. I listened to and considering her warnings about the area we are choosing to live in, and I respect her opinions, but I can't make this decision based on one person's warnings.
THIS NEEDS TO BE SAID, so I apologize for digressing a bit: I have done my research, I have spoken to multiple brokers now, and I keep finding the same answer. To quote Steve Perre from Good Times Realty (Check him out if you need a place to live in NYC!):
Now, Steve is not my broker. He is a friend of my aunt's and he is not looking for a sale or to rip me off. He offered to help me out and answer any questions I had about any neighborhoods in New York and so I emailed him when people started giving me crap about the area we were looking in. He has no reason to be dishonest with me. He could've said, "You'll hate it there. You'll constantly be in danger. Your broker is scum. Come with me and I'll show you a nicer place to live! I want you to pay my fees!" But he didn't. I trust him; my aunt trusts him; his girlfriend trusts him; his girlfriend's mother trusts him. I trust his opinion.
SO, BACK TO THIS WHOLE THING... I feel like crap. I feel so guilty about not fulfilling my end of the agreement. Every time someone mentions this arrangement in the future, I'm going to reflect upon it poorly. And I know I'm going to do it, because that's kind of how I'm feeling about what I did to my old office. I never signed a contract stating that I needed to give two weeks' notice before I quit, but it's typically understood in the business world. I couldn't give two weeks, though. He wanted me on May 28, I pushed for June 4, and we settled at May 30. I only had twelve days to find a place to stay, pack, and figure out how to move to NYC. It's just like this move: I didn't expect it to be so soon, but it is, and I have to find a way to deal with it. Part of me felt horribly guilty that I couldn't give my old boss better notice. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity I'd been given, just like I can't pass up the apartment we found.
I know people have bigger problems in life, and I really shouldn't waste time whining about this one, but I've just been feeling so bad about it. I avoided her all Thursday night, even though I guess we were supposed to talk about it, and then I did not want to come back today. I dreaded walking in this building from the time I boarded the bus in W-B to the time I put my key in the door here because I knew a confrontation was waiting for me inside. How many more will there be? How long can I hide from someone in their own home? When will I stop carrying this crappy feeling around with me?
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