When is it ok to just admit that it's not right?

Subway woes

So I had a panic attack in the subway on Saturday. Our car stopped for quite a long time due to debris on the track, and I started to panic. I can't imagine what it would be like to be stuck down there for more than the amount of time that I was already was. I can just see the headlines "California girl dies beneath the earth one month after arriving in NYC." Good times! Luckily, that was not my time to go. Later on in the day, a woman actually poked me in the side trying to get me to move inside the subway car. I told my friend and she told me I should have poked her back! Apparently, part of the hazing process of moving to NYC involves getting poked. Next time, I will poke back!

Lovely taxi driver

Last night I was walking around Tribeca with my friend Cynthia and we were crossing the street. A taxi driver was turning the corner and he came very close to hitting us. On instinct I yelled "Jesus Christ!" The driver then hollered out the window at me, "Fuck you!" How lovely. Welcome to New York! I'm learning that you have to be awfully tough to live in this city.

Speedos and security guards

Today I was in Washington Square Park and I got quite the eyeful when I saw a man wearing nothing but a green speedo bathing suit, sunbathing on the grass. I haven't seen a man wearing a speedo for a very long time, and I was impressed with his chutzpah in wearing one in the middle of a park, with lots of people around. Kudos to speedo man.

I was in Kimmel this morning (one of the school buildings where I eat my meals) and as usual, I had to run my school I.D. through one of the electronic gates to enter. Every NYU building requires that students show their IDs to go in and out. It's definitely something I've had to adjust to. Today, for some reason, I was having trouble sliding my card through and the security guard called me over. He told me something about how I had to get a new card and I started to freak out, but then he corrected himself. He said "go on, get outta here! you're making me think I'm crazy!" lol. I love how expressive New Yorkers are.

Going postal at the post office

So my roommate, Kawita, and I each received these little pink postcards from the post office indicating that we had packages waiting for us. Excitement filled us, stuff was coming from home! We decided to make a pilgrimage down to said post office on Saturday. We followed the directions to what we thought was the post office, but there was only a blank building. It turned out that post office had moved down to Canal Street, a few blocks away from where we were. Luckily, it wasn't a deep trek, so we hoofed it on down to a very large post office on one of the longest and busiest streets in New York. We waited patiently in line. When my turn came, I handed the postal worker my little pink postcard. Her reaction? "What is this? Ma'am, I don't know what this is, I've never seen it before." (Imagine this being spoken with a lot of attitude) Being the passive person that I am, I probably would have backed down normally, but hey, I'm a New Yorker now. I'm learning to be tough. I looked her in the eye and explained, also with attitude, that I had received the postcard in my apartment mailbox and that was all I knew. She wanted a tracking number. I didn't have one. At that point Kawita walked up and explained the postcard problem to the woman, in a much nicer tone. I saw the postal employee visibly soften, and we all figured out that the packages must have come to the package room at our building and not in fact to the post office. I was filled with frustration, but also proud of myself for standing up to this rude woman. Sometimes, you just have to have chutzpah.

Soccer mom

So today I actually "soccer-momed" one of my fellow grad students. A bunch of us had gone on a tour and we were walking back through our neighborhood, and this very nice young man stepped out into the street, narrowly missing a taxi. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back and then gave him a lecture that went something like this: "You live in NY now. You have to be very aware of what's going on around you at all times." lol. Not only did I behave like a totally protective mommy, but I acted like I was such the seasoned New Yorker, when I've only lived here now for two days. It made me feel good though, because he was grateful for the help, and I like taking care of people. All hail soccer moms!

Two days in New York City

I have now been a New Yorker for two days. Although according to Carrie on "Sex and the City" you have to live here for ten years to really call yourself a New Yorker. Whatever! It's been two days in the most amazing, energetic and toughest city in the world. I already feel like a new person and that I was born to live here. I live in a residence hall with a great roommate in Greenwich Village, which is, in my opinion, the coolest neighborhood in New York City (although maybe I'm a wee bit biased!). It's full of cool restaurants and bars and coffee shops. I went to a bar tonight called Jekyll and Hyde. I'm obsessed with the concept of good vs. evil in literature so I had to enter this bar. I ended up making friends with the bartender. God I love the people here! They are all so passionate and interesting and smart.

I also attended orientation today for my program, which was so cool. I'm actually looking forward to attending class next week! We were told we would be covering a big fashion event and then also writing stories about 911. I can't believe I'm going to actually be in New York City on the anniversary. It is so poignant and real and sad. Next Friday I am going to attend a series of panels at school regarding journalists who reported stories for 9/11. There's just so much here, so much stimulation and so much to learn. I love just listening to people on the street. And my favorite quote so far here is "My coffee table is neither organic or tribal." This was spoken by a woman on the street on her cell. lol. Stay tuned!