kisses

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If I were to dream up a perfect first kiss in New York City, there are two scenarios that come to mind. One, of course, would be in Central Park, in the evening on some quiet side path out of the view of random passersby. The second would be along one of the rivers, sitting on one of the many benches or standing on one of the piers at night, with the lights from New Jersey (I’m thinking Hudson…I do live on the Upper West Side) on the other side.

That’s all.

Except that it’s possible that one of these two might have happened earlier this evening. Or not.

missing my mba peeps

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I just got an email tonight from my friend, Tim. This was my last little hurrah with some of my MBA friends before we all took off. I miss them a lot. And I miss the delicious tacos at Diego’s. Can’t wait for Christmas to get back to P-town for a little bit…and the next time I get to see my MBA friends. The ones that don’t live here, that is.

girls’ night out

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A couple of weeks ago, the women from my MBA program who are now in New York (students and spouses alike) got together for a little girl time. We met up at Serendipity3 (just fyi…there is no 1 or 2, just 3) for dinner and dessert. They are famous for their frozen hot chocolate which almost everyone ordered…except for me and AnnMarie, who gorged ourselves on a delicious sundae. 

This is what six women pigging out looks like. I’m not going to lie, I kind of love these pictures. 
“Oh, nothing. Just stuffing my face.”
Kind of love Anne’s peace sign

keeping busy

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So, before I moved to New York, I made the decision that I was going to date when I got here and that I would try going out with guys from all different backgrounds. I joined Match.com and started meeting guys. What has been different this time with the whole online dating (that I swore I would never do again) is that I go out with guys right away. There’s no emailing back and forth a ton or anything like that. If someone’s interested and I’m interested and they don’t appear to be creepy or lying, I will meet him for drinks. Translation: lots of dates.

And here are some things I’ve learned and some little tidbits from my experiences over the past four weeks:

  1. I now feel more grateful than ever that I don’t drink. Because I have never had “liquid courage” to help me lose my inhibitions, I am capable of being interesting and open without alcohol even on a first date. This is not true for lots of people.
  2. Not drinking means that every first date I’ve been on has involved a conversation about why I don’t drink. FYI for those of you who don’t drink and are asked this question…my favorite way of dealing with this question is asking people why they do drink. Very few people can actually articulate that.
  3. New York has so many amazing places to go and by going out with a number of different guys of different cultures, ethnicities, religious backgrounds, professions, etc, I have been able to see more of the city than I could have even imagined.
  4. As much as I wanted to believe that I could marry someone who doesn’t share my religious beliefs (mainly because the guys who do have rarely showed interest in me), after four weeks of more first dates than I can remember and plenty of seconds, I have finally come to the conclusion that that just simply isn’t true. It’s who I am and everything I want. Which means dating them is kind of pointless. Fun and interesting, but pointless. This is simultaneously depressing and liberating.
  5. Having never dated multiple people at the same time, I’ve never had to worry about how many guys I’m kissing at once (obviously not at the same time, but you know, if I’m kissing one should I really be kissing a different one the next day). This is new territory that I’m trying to avoid. I’m sure a lot of people think it’s not a big deal; after all, it’s just kissing. But to me, it is. Which means last night I learned how to turn my head gracefully. (At least I hope I did it gracefully.)
  6. While I always offer to pay my half of the date, I have really appreciated that no one has ever let me. 
  7. Compliments from guys rarely get old. 
  8. Confidence really is so attractive. Not cockiness, but confidence. 
  9. And the biggest take away from this whole thing. I learned that when I don’t care and have nothing invested and basically think it’s not going to go anywhere, I am my cute, darling self and boys like me and generally want to see me again. (For those of you who don’t know me very well and think that this sounds a little full of myself, what you should know is that this is a BIG deal for me to realize this. Like, HUGE. Just ask anyone who does know me.)
  10. And finally, if I ever have a friend who really can’t dance, but thinks he/she can, I will tell him/her and you should do the same. If someone had done that for my date last night, he would have been saved a lot of humiliation…although I’m pretty sure he still has no idea he can’t dance, so maybe it’s better that he’s ignorant of it. (Think the cowboy friend in Footloose…a song which incidentally played while we were dancing–a remix, of course, during an’80s set.)
Maybe it’s a little sad that it’s taken me this long to figure some of these things out…but better late than never, right? 

it’s the little things

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There are several things that make moving to New York challenging. First is the utter lack of available and affordable space. Second is the cost. And then there’s the overall dirtiness of the city (if anyone ever tries to tell you that New York is not a filthy city, just know that he/she is lying or has just become totally desensitized). The rats in the subway…and on the street late at night on garbage days. The multiple and various little bugs that might infest your apartment, or as was discovered this week, the movie theater. Being constantly late or early because subways tend to run on their own schedules.

Really, I could keep going.

The interesting thing is, though, that you just get used to those things. I know that might sound odd, but it’s true. You learn how to be adaptable.

But there are some great things about the inconveniences of living in New York. And one of those, for me, is laundry. Yes, the household chore that I hate most in this world (closely followed by unloading the dishwasher). At my price point for rent, there was no way I was going to find an apartment with a washer and dryer in the actual unit. Not only that, but my fabulous apartment happens to be in a building that doesn’t have a washer and dryer in it at all. Which means my options are hauling my laundry to a laundromat (the closest one being two blocks away), or taking it to the little wash and fold right next to my building for a little bit more money. I’m sure you all know which option I have chosen.

Are they the best laundry people ever? No. The place I took my stuff last summer was much better. But once I realized that I would have to separate my lights and darks and take them in separately (a hard learned lesson) it got much better. I drop it off in the morning and when I pick it up in the evening, it is in this lovely folded, plastic wrapped bundle that makes me so happy.

And because it is all folded and I now have places for all of my clothes (have I mentioned the wardrobe clean-out that I had to do both before and after I arrived in New York?), I put it away as soon as I undo the bundle so as not to have to fold it myself later.

It will be a sad day when I move back to somewhere that requires me to do laundry again. Or even once I can afford to live in a place that has a washer and dryer making me feel like I should do my own laundry. But for now, I will just enjoy this little perk that helps to counter all the aforementioned things that make living in the city a little rough.

P.S. Don’t get me wrong…I LOVE this city and hope to be here for a long time. I just want people to realize it’s not all glitz and glam.