!!!
Okay, darlings, I have arrived, I am not dead (though not through lack of trying), I have REAL COFFEE made by REAL SKINNY INDIE BOY BARISTAS, it is all as it should be. Hell, its even raining. Did I actually leave? Probably. The people here actually use umbrellas and don't appear to believe in jeans (wtf).
The flight was...not ideal. Here is what stresses me out about airports: not the people or the lines or the standing or the waiting, its the running from place to place, whilst juggling 2 very inconviently shaped bags, each of which weight maybe 4 pounds more then I can carry without breaking a sweat, and all the while not stopping or putting anything down or accidentally assaulting my fellow travelers. Very stressful indeed.
Security was, per usual, a pain in the arse. I am now short 1 bottle of Burt's Bees hand lotion, 1 exacto knife, and the super good rose water we got for Halcyon Days, and for this I am mightily irked. I got some sleep at the airport, not alot, dorked around on the internet until I ran out of battery power. By the time I woke up and it was actually time to get on a plane to go somewhere, we found out our flight had been pushed back 3+ hours because--funny how these things work out--the plane we were suppossed to board wasn't actually certified for intercontinental travel. The only other plane available didn't have the fuel capacity to get us across the country in one go, which mean a previously unschedualed pitstop in Chicago. A four-ish hour flight turned into a nine hour ordeal. needless to say, we're never flying American again.
(we were also stuck next to an Italian man, his two sons, and the various assorted females of their brood. They reminded me very much a) of my fathers family and b) why I hate my fathers family. Loud? Obnoxious? Culturally predisposed to believe they are superior to everyone in their surroundings by virtue of being Italian and male? check check double fucking check. good goddamn.)
Once we were in the air, the flight was actually one of the more painless flights I've ever experienced. No air sickness, no earpopping, no screaming children, I read and slept and ate peacans and appreciated cloud-scapes. It was amazing. The best part was the decent into JFK (where we were caught on the tarmac for another 45 minutes because of that, y'know, being 5ish hours late thing); about nine at night and we were flying through a cloud bank which would occationally mask the wings, like a hologram flickering in and out--vaugely Twilight Zone-esq, I feel--and then, the clouds parted to reveal, 20000 feet below, the dim blue lights of Hoboken. They stretched on for miles, growing brighter as the plane continued to decend, then disapeared as we flew closer to the coastline. And then, the gaudy gold nightlife skyline of New York City. From the air you can see the grid, the Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State Building, it was kind of flooring. I tried taking pictures, but 6 inches of plate glass and 300mph got in my way.
I tried to take pictures from the cab too, but Iven, our homosexual Romanian cabby, took us seriously when we asked him to go 'quick as you can'.
Our hotel in tiny. There is no elevator, our room is 85% bed, and the TV is mounted to the ceiling because there is no other flat surface to place it on. We're also two blocks from my dorm, which is good. I haven't moved in yet--we decided to give ourselves a two day buffer to learn the lay of the land. Like today we walked from end to ass end of the Village, then almost to Battery Park because by our powers combined, by mother and I create The Anti Compass. Should this trend continue, I will have legs to rival an Irish dancer by Christmas. We found the Salvation Army, the libraries, half a dozen bookstores, the coffeeplace I'm going to live (its a REAL coffe shop and directly below the local equivalent to Seattle Shakes. Uhm. Hellyes). This neighborhood is really, really starting to grow on me--imagine the bastard child of Capitol Hill and Pioneer Square. Now give it fangs and don't allow it to bathe. Its awesome. More later, when I have photos to assist my descriptive process.
So far, I have eaten crappy falafel from the falafel chain across the street, crappy thai from a placed Thai Me Up, owned by a very enthusiastic young man who gave me a punch card, crappy spanicoppita (first of all, they called in 'goatcheese-and-spinach-pie' and lied about the olive content), and an AMAZING bagel. And decent coffee. This is important only because it makes me happy and has guarenteed me a steak in the very near future.
I need to brush my teeth and pretend to sleep. 3 hours gained is just enough to really, really fuck up your sleep schedual. PAH.
i miss you.
-Harker (In New York)
The flight was...not ideal. Here is what stresses me out about airports: not the people or the lines or the standing or the waiting, its the running from place to place, whilst juggling 2 very inconviently shaped bags, each of which weight maybe 4 pounds more then I can carry without breaking a sweat, and all the while not stopping or putting anything down or accidentally assaulting my fellow travelers. Very stressful indeed.
Security was, per usual, a pain in the arse. I am now short 1 bottle of Burt's Bees hand lotion, 1 exacto knife, and the super good rose water we got for Halcyon Days, and for this I am mightily irked. I got some sleep at the airport, not alot, dorked around on the internet until I ran out of battery power. By the time I woke up and it was actually time to get on a plane to go somewhere, we found out our flight had been pushed back 3+ hours because--funny how these things work out--the plane we were suppossed to board wasn't actually certified for intercontinental travel. The only other plane available didn't have the fuel capacity to get us across the country in one go, which mean a previously unschedualed pitstop in Chicago. A four-ish hour flight turned into a nine hour ordeal. needless to say, we're never flying American again.
(we were also stuck next to an Italian man, his two sons, and the various assorted females of their brood. They reminded me very much a) of my fathers family and b) why I hate my fathers family. Loud? Obnoxious? Culturally predisposed to believe they are superior to everyone in their surroundings by virtue of being Italian and male? check check double fucking check. good goddamn.)
Once we were in the air, the flight was actually one of the more painless flights I've ever experienced. No air sickness, no earpopping, no screaming children, I read and slept and ate peacans and appreciated cloud-scapes. It was amazing. The best part was the decent into JFK (where we were caught on the tarmac for another 45 minutes because of that, y'know, being 5ish hours late thing); about nine at night and we were flying through a cloud bank which would occationally mask the wings, like a hologram flickering in and out--vaugely Twilight Zone-esq, I feel--and then, the clouds parted to reveal, 20000 feet below, the dim blue lights of Hoboken. They stretched on for miles, growing brighter as the plane continued to decend, then disapeared as we flew closer to the coastline. And then, the gaudy gold nightlife skyline of New York City. From the air you can see the grid, the Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State Building, it was kind of flooring. I tried taking pictures, but 6 inches of plate glass and 300mph got in my way.
I tried to take pictures from the cab too, but Iven, our homosexual Romanian cabby, took us seriously when we asked him to go 'quick as you can'.
Our hotel in tiny. There is no elevator, our room is 85% bed, and the TV is mounted to the ceiling because there is no other flat surface to place it on. We're also two blocks from my dorm, which is good. I haven't moved in yet--we decided to give ourselves a two day buffer to learn the lay of the land. Like today we walked from end to ass end of the Village, then almost to Battery Park because by our powers combined, by mother and I create The Anti Compass. Should this trend continue, I will have legs to rival an Irish dancer by Christmas. We found the Salvation Army, the libraries, half a dozen bookstores, the coffeeplace I'm going to live (its a REAL coffe shop and directly below the local equivalent to Seattle Shakes. Uhm. Hellyes). This neighborhood is really, really starting to grow on me--imagine the bastard child of Capitol Hill and Pioneer Square. Now give it fangs and don't allow it to bathe. Its awesome. More later, when I have photos to assist my descriptive process.
So far, I have eaten crappy falafel from the falafel chain across the street, crappy thai from a placed Thai Me Up, owned by a very enthusiastic young man who gave me a punch card, crappy spanicoppita (first of all, they called in 'goatcheese-and-spinach-pie' and lied about the olive content), and an AMAZING bagel. And decent coffee. This is important only because it makes me happy and has guarenteed me a steak in the very near future.
I need to brush my teeth and pretend to sleep. 3 hours gained is just enough to really, really fuck up your sleep schedual. PAH.
i miss you.
-Harker (In New York)