It was so very lovely.
And he likes penguins.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
And he likes penguins
It is way past my bedtime, but I promised an update.
It was so very lovely.
And he likes penguins.
It was so very lovely.
And he likes penguins.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Mac is blushing
I had no idea this was coming, so you can imagine my surprise this morning when I opened the box.
Most people would call this their brand new 16 GB iPod Nano. I call her Nan. She's Mac's new girlfriend. Aren't they cute together? They go together like Mac n' Cheese. Yeah, they pretty much hooked up as soon as I introduced them.
More on Christmas 2008 later.
Most people would call this their brand new 16 GB iPod Nano. I call her Nan. She's Mac's new girlfriend. Aren't they cute together? They go together like Mac n' Cheese. Yeah, they pretty much hooked up as soon as I introduced them.
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| From Christmas 2008 |
More on Christmas 2008 later.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
"Colour me impressed"
This is a useless and probably annoying post for my readers because I am going to use about 100 words to say almost nothing at all.
I have laughed today like I have not laughed in a very long time. It is something wonderful. I hope this new found source of laughter will soon be bloggable.
"Between my upcoming trip to New York and the year-long vacation from my current job, how can this possibly get better? Should I make a new wish? I am so excited to see what happens next. I hope it involves shoes. Or boys. Or boys with shoes. Oooohh!"
Oh just wait. I think the Universe has accepted my challenge.
I have laughed today like I have not laughed in a very long time. It is something wonderful. I hope this new found source of laughter will soon be bloggable.
"Between my upcoming trip to New York and the year-long vacation from my current job, how can this possibly get better? Should I make a new wish? I am so excited to see what happens next. I hope it involves shoes. Or boys. Or boys with shoes. Oooohh!"
Oh just wait. I think the Universe has accepted my challenge.
The Betseys
I went Christmas shopping with my sister on Saturday afternoon.
Let's review that statement in a bit more detail for a moment.
I went Christmas shopping on the last Saturday before the big holiday--crazy? No, the mall was surprisingly navigable.
I went shopping with my sister--asking for an argument? No, we got along very well and accomplished our tasks without any eye rolling or huffing. It was a very enjoyable afternoon, all told.
As I was saying, I went shopping with my sister. We were in the Bay and we were supposed to be looking for gifts but found ourselves in the tights and hosiery section. She needed black tights. I was just browsing, but then I spotted a pair of shimmery, opaque gold tights.
"These look fun!" I said and showed them to my fashion consultant.
"You should get them. They're 30% plus save the tax," she said.
"But what would I wear them with?"
"Anything!" She said. "Black skirt or dress."
I mentally flipped through my closet and tried to imagine an outfit. Would I just end up looking like Glitter and Gold Jem? Or a wrestler with an office job by day?
"Okay, but can I wear these, or are they just for girls with the spindly little stick legs?"
"Yeah, you can totally wear them. It's patterns that are hard to pull off." See? She knows what she's talking about.
Even though I was trying to behave and not spend money on me because I was supposed to be buying gifts, the tights were just impossible to pass up. Later, my sister mused that she wished she could have a pair. When I grabbed a pair in her size, she said to me (seriously, this is what she said), "I don't know what I would wear with them though. And I shouldn't be spending money on myself right now. I'm trying to be good." I eventually convinced her to buy them too.
I issued a challenge to myself that day to find a fabulous outfit to wear the tights with on Monday. On Monday morning I thought better of it and decided I would save the outfit for Wednesday so I could continue wearing it to Christmas Eve dinner. Then I rethought the whole brand strategy again, called the New York office, consulted with another fashion advisor (Amara) and decided the tights would come out on Tuesday (essentially since Amara was not going to be at work on Wednesday and she needed to see these fabulous things).
So this morning I put together the outfit and proceeded to pick out the shoes. I decided a black peep toe would be perfect, but for some reason I could only find one half of the pair. With only minutes to spare, I searched my house for the missing shoe and came up empty--footed? Then I looked over at the Betseys, sitting pretty under my tree. Could they? Would they? Yes. Oh baby yes.
I carefully placed them in a bag and toted them to work. I also brought an alternate pair of much less stellar shoes to wear in case I had to leave my carpeted office area (for fear that the tile floors plus bits of gravel and dirt would scratch up the soles of the Betseys.)
I took pictures and got friends to take pictures. I was totally enamored with my gold self today.
The Betseys as I flirt with someone on the phone
The Betseys being coy
Who, me? Why I'd love to dance
Bearing my soul
Let's review that statement in a bit more detail for a moment.
I went Christmas shopping on the last Saturday before the big holiday--crazy? No, the mall was surprisingly navigable.
I went shopping with my sister--asking for an argument? No, we got along very well and accomplished our tasks without any eye rolling or huffing. It was a very enjoyable afternoon, all told.
As I was saying, I went shopping with my sister. We were in the Bay and we were supposed to be looking for gifts but found ourselves in the tights and hosiery section. She needed black tights. I was just browsing, but then I spotted a pair of shimmery, opaque gold tights.
"These look fun!" I said and showed them to my fashion consultant.
"You should get them. They're 30% plus save the tax," she said.
"But what would I wear them with?"
"Anything!" She said. "Black skirt or dress."
I mentally flipped through my closet and tried to imagine an outfit. Would I just end up looking like Glitter and Gold Jem? Or a wrestler with an office job by day?
"Okay, but can I wear these, or are they just for girls with the spindly little stick legs?"
"Yeah, you can totally wear them. It's patterns that are hard to pull off." See? She knows what she's talking about.
Even though I was trying to behave and not spend money on me because I was supposed to be buying gifts, the tights were just impossible to pass up. Later, my sister mused that she wished she could have a pair. When I grabbed a pair in her size, she said to me (seriously, this is what she said), "I don't know what I would wear with them though. And I shouldn't be spending money on myself right now. I'm trying to be good." I eventually convinced her to buy them too.
I issued a challenge to myself that day to find a fabulous outfit to wear the tights with on Monday. On Monday morning I thought better of it and decided I would save the outfit for Wednesday so I could continue wearing it to Christmas Eve dinner. Then I rethought the whole brand strategy again, called the New York office, consulted with another fashion advisor (Amara) and decided the tights would come out on Tuesday (essentially since Amara was not going to be at work on Wednesday and she needed to see these fabulous things).
So this morning I put together the outfit and proceeded to pick out the shoes. I decided a black peep toe would be perfect, but for some reason I could only find one half of the pair. With only minutes to spare, I searched my house for the missing shoe and came up empty--footed? Then I looked over at the Betseys, sitting pretty under my tree. Could they? Would they? Yes. Oh baby yes.
I carefully placed them in a bag and toted them to work. I also brought an alternate pair of much less stellar shoes to wear in case I had to leave my carpeted office area (for fear that the tile floors plus bits of gravel and dirt would scratch up the soles of the Betseys.)
I took pictures and got friends to take pictures. I was totally enamored with my gold self today.
The Betseys
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| From Shoe collection |
The Betseys as I flirt with someone on the phone
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| From Shoe collection |
The Betseys being coy
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| From Shoe collection |
Who, me? Why I'd love to dance
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| From Shoe collection |
Bearing my soul
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| From Shoe collection |
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Time to get my hip-waders on. I think I am in high waters again.
Good-Wooden Leg often reminds me of high school. We have sports teams, clubs, a choir, and it feels kind of lame to sit by yourself in the cafeteria.
I was a joiner in my school years. I did career committee, yearbook, badminton, curling, and I was in charge of advertising for the sports awards luncheon (which subsequently lead me to consider a career in the field).
My joiner spirit carries on, mostly motivated now by the desire to gain experience useful to my career. I recently put my name in for a volunteer position on the Staff Club Executive Committee, the team that manages all the teams and clubs at Good-Wooden. It was serious business: I had to send in a resume and get my leaders to give their blessings on this endeavor.
I was deemed worthy and accepted to take on the role of Information Coordinator. (You have no idea how hard it is to spell "coordinator" without a hyphen. Good-Wooden's style guide is under my skin, but apparently the Staff Club does not follow it.)
My impression of the Information Coordinator was someone who sent out e-mails to the department staff reps letting them know that registration for the hockey team was starting, or the date and details of the Children's Christmas Party. Some mention was made of updating things on the internal website.
Hahahahaha.
I had my orientation today with the outgoing Information Coordinator. Yes, I will send out e-mails, but I also have mailboxes and a calendar to manage for all the other staff club executives. And the website? Oh it's not just type and post like I do when I blog or update the Red Shoe House site. I have to work in HTML, and send things to a server, and oye. I'm a smart girl, I can do this, but it's going to take some time.
At my first meeting today that followed my orientation people were asking last year's Info guy if he could set something up for them, get something posted, set up a security level, blah blah blah. Oh dear I hope he leaves me some good notes.
On another note, someone brought up a communication piece they sent out that didn't really work. I think they thought that if they put it on green paper, added a picture, and ensured it was delivered to every staff member's mailbox, that it would get read and the phones would ring. Green paper does not a communications piece make. Now that, I know.
So maybe I won't be able to bring the same skills to the table that the last guy did, but hopefully my other strengths and knowledge will shine through and prove helpful.
And if not, well, I get to enjoy some free fancy lunches and two free tickets to the company dinner and dance (!!)
I was a joiner in my school years. I did career committee, yearbook, badminton, curling, and I was in charge of advertising for the sports awards luncheon (which subsequently lead me to consider a career in the field).
My joiner spirit carries on, mostly motivated now by the desire to gain experience useful to my career. I recently put my name in for a volunteer position on the Staff Club Executive Committee, the team that manages all the teams and clubs at Good-Wooden. It was serious business: I had to send in a resume and get my leaders to give their blessings on this endeavor.
I was deemed worthy and accepted to take on the role of Information Coordinator. (You have no idea how hard it is to spell "coordinator" without a hyphen. Good-Wooden's style guide is under my skin, but apparently the Staff Club does not follow it.)
My impression of the Information Coordinator was someone who sent out e-mails to the department staff reps letting them know that registration for the hockey team was starting, or the date and details of the Children's Christmas Party. Some mention was made of updating things on the internal website.
Hahahahaha.
I had my orientation today with the outgoing Information Coordinator. Yes, I will send out e-mails, but I also have mailboxes and a calendar to manage for all the other staff club executives. And the website? Oh it's not just type and post like I do when I blog or update the Red Shoe House site. I have to work in HTML, and send things to a server, and oye. I'm a smart girl, I can do this, but it's going to take some time.
At my first meeting today that followed my orientation people were asking last year's Info guy if he could set something up for them, get something posted, set up a security level, blah blah blah. Oh dear I hope he leaves me some good notes.
On another note, someone brought up a communication piece they sent out that didn't really work. I think they thought that if they put it on green paper, added a picture, and ensured it was delivered to every staff member's mailbox, that it would get read and the phones would ring. Green paper does not a communications piece make. Now that, I know.
So maybe I won't be able to bring the same skills to the table that the last guy did, but hopefully my other strengths and knowledge will shine through and prove helpful.
And if not, well, I get to enjoy some free fancy lunches and two free tickets to the company dinner and dance (!!)
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Long December
On Friday night I got together with some of my Winnipeg pals--Lisa, Rob, Vince and Chris. We went to see the Cannes Lions commercials at the Winnipeg Art Gallery and then grabbed some food at Carlos and Murphy's. Since I started celebrating my birthday on December 2, this was my Grand Finale Celebration.
After eating we headed back to my place for cake and drinks. I had baked and decorated a cake for the occasion, which was apparently inconceivable to my friends. In fact, all week at work too people were shaking their heads at the concept. Well I ask you, just what was I supposed to do? I was celebrating my birthday. Birthdays call for cake and candles. I much prefer a homemade cake to a store bought one, so I baked one myself. I look after me. That's what I do.
I wasn't especially proud of the cake actually. I didn't really feel up to baking something from scratch so I used a box of Betty Crocker Rainbow Chip cake mix--my favourite. I also bought a can of icing, which I never ever do, but again, I wasn't feeling up to going through the whole production of making icing. I had to buy sprinkles so I went with the heart shaped ones. I had a vision of a very lovely cake but unfortunately, it turned out not nearly as pretty as it looked in my head. It worked.
Lisa told me I couldn't put the candles on myself so she did that. Then they were supposed to sing, but no one really wanted to start, so I think I started and then they joined in. I made my wish. It was a bad wish but it was the first thing that came to mind. And then I cut and served my cake.
Can I just comment here that I think I look especially happy here? And that is definitely a good hair day.
My friends were also reeling from my story about the piece of cake I took with me on my trip.
"I can't believe you brought your own cake, and a candle, with you to New York. Why didn't you bring matches too?" someone said.
"Well I wasn't really sure what the rules were for packing lighters and stuff so I just assumed that NYF would have something there or that I'd find something to use."
In the end, if you recall, it was a good thing I did have that piece of cake with me or I would not have had any cake, presents or cards on my actual birthday, and that would have been a little sad.
All said and done, it was good to be home with my pals again. Mostly the guys just teased me mercilessly about one thing or another (it's because they love you, Jillian). Thank goodness Lisa was there. In total, during my week of birthday celebrations I had six pieces of birthday cake and ate pizza five times (in a row!). I love my birthday, but I think I'm done with it for a while now. Thanks to everyone who was a part of it or who sent their best wishes. Please come back next year!
And its been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
--Counting Crows, A Long December
After eating we headed back to my place for cake and drinks. I had baked and decorated a cake for the occasion, which was apparently inconceivable to my friends. In fact, all week at work too people were shaking their heads at the concept. Well I ask you, just what was I supposed to do? I was celebrating my birthday. Birthdays call for cake and candles. I much prefer a homemade cake to a store bought one, so I baked one myself. I look after me. That's what I do.
I wasn't especially proud of the cake actually. I didn't really feel up to baking something from scratch so I used a box of Betty Crocker Rainbow Chip cake mix--my favourite. I also bought a can of icing, which I never ever do, but again, I wasn't feeling up to going through the whole production of making icing. I had to buy sprinkles so I went with the heart shaped ones. I had a vision of a very lovely cake but unfortunately, it turned out not nearly as pretty as it looked in my head. It worked.
Lisa told me I couldn't put the candles on myself so she did that. Then they were supposed to sing, but no one really wanted to start, so I think I started and then they joined in. I made my wish. It was a bad wish but it was the first thing that came to mind. And then I cut and served my cake.
Can I just comment here that I think I look especially happy here? And that is definitely a good hair day.
My friends were also reeling from my story about the piece of cake I took with me on my trip.
"I can't believe you brought your own cake, and a candle, with you to New York. Why didn't you bring matches too?" someone said.
"Well I wasn't really sure what the rules were for packing lighters and stuff so I just assumed that NYF would have something there or that I'd find something to use."
In the end, if you recall, it was a good thing I did have that piece of cake with me or I would not have had any cake, presents or cards on my actual birthday, and that would have been a little sad.
All said and done, it was good to be home with my pals again. Mostly the guys just teased me mercilessly about one thing or another (it's because they love you, Jillian). Thank goodness Lisa was there. In total, during my week of birthday celebrations I had six pieces of birthday cake and ate pizza five times (in a row!). I love my birthday, but I think I'm done with it for a while now. Thanks to everyone who was a part of it or who sent their best wishes. Please come back next year!
And its been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
--Counting Crows, A Long December
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Fairytale of New York
Just because Sunday was my last full day in New York, did not mean it was any more relaxed or less action-packed. NYF and I started the day with a brisk walk through Central Park to the zoo where we made it just in time to see the feeding of the penguins.
The night before NYF was telling me about how much he enjoys museums and architecture because he loves the amazing history of it all. I get inspired by nature, whether that is when I am lost in a forest or staring into the eyes of another creature. I watched the penguins hop around and swim by. Sometimes they would swim right up to me and I'd just stand there completely captivated. NYF knew the penguins were something I'd want to do, but I don't know if he understood or could understand how much I love to watch animals.
We saw sea lions, monkeys and polar bears--oh my! I wish that I had had batteries for my camera to take pictures. The bears were beautiful and the sea lions were playful and smart. Had it been a lazy and sunny afternoon I could have stayed all day.
After leaving the park, NYF lead us to 5th Ave. We passed the Apple store and then NYF headed for the line up to get into FAO Schwartz.
Stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes and kinds lined the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Your birthday present is in there," NYF said.
The line moved quickly and so we soon found ourselves inside the over-sized toy box. I put my hands out to touch everything soft and furry.
Somewhere in the middle of the store, NYF guided me to the left. He pointed to a small, red beaked, stuffed penguin and said, "that."
I picked it up and immediately checked the tag to see if it said what kind of penguin it was (I had never heard of a red-beaked one before). It didn't say, but it did give a name, "Peggy." I loved it.
"You want it?" NYF asked.
With my eyes wide open I nodded and gave an emphatic, "yes." I carried the little bird close to me all around the rest of the store.
We went upstairs where they had the Lego and Playmobile sections and then found ourselves in the crowd around the big floor piano. A petite and perky blonde girl, and a much taller guy were preparing to give a performance.
They girl addressed the crowd to get everyone in a cheering and shouting mood. She asked everyone who was proud of where they were from to put their hands up. I put mine up. Then she went around asking where those people were from.
"Winnipeg!" I said when she got to me.
"Connecticut's here! That's awesome!" she said back.
NYF and I immediately looked at each other and laughed.
After the toy store we decided to check out POP Burger. I was immediately enticed by it because it was emitting loud music. Inside the small store, the walls are covered in wood paneling and Andy Warhol prints. I placed my order for the two, bite sized POP burgers, a large cup of onion rings, and a Diet Coke.
Don't be fooled, just because this is a swanky burger place does not mean they have an elite level of staff. The guy taking my order was a bit of a space case.
"Name?" he asked me.
"Jill."
I guess I have some serious kind of accent because apparently New York was not understanding me that day. When I got my receipt the name printed at the top was "GIL".
I laughed and turned to NYF. "Look, I'm Gil from Connecticut!" I came to New York only for a weekend, but I was leaving with a whole new identity.
I asked NYF if this is where posh parents took their kids for lunch after shopping with them at FAO Schwartz.
"No, this is for tourists."
I looked over at an expensive-looking family in the back. I had just assumed they were locals, but I suppose it was entirely possible they were just in for the weekend and showing their kids the local hot spots. Who knows. That's New York.
After lunch we made our way down 5th Ave. The sidewalks were packed with masses of people who all seemed to be moving against us. After having spent a few days negotiating the crowds I was finding I enjoyed the sport of getting through them. I'd search out a clear path and zip to the front at the intersections to gain a few positions. I didn't even look to make sure I hadn't lost NYF because I knew he was close by, and sure enough, at the few clearings we'd meet up again and then the race was back on.
We walked to Bryant Park, which we had checked out the day before, where we were hopefully going to go skating. I was super excited about this.
When we finally got inside, we rented skates and a cubby to put our stuff in. The guy handed NYF and I the same blue plastic skates. I looked at mine and then looked at his. Yup, figure skates.
"What are these?" NYF asked, looking at the spikes coming out of his blades.
"These are figure skates," I said. I looked around and noticed that most men were wearing the same thing, and even some men were wearing authentic men's figure skates that they had actually gone to the store and purchased.
NYF had a lot of questions. "What do you use these for?"
"Jumps and spins and stuff."
"How do you skate with these things?"
"I don't know, I just do."
The rink was small to begin with. I mean, it had to be smaller than an outdoor hockey rink at a community centre. And it was packed with tourists and New Yorkers and one Maple Leafs fan (much to the chagrin of NYF, a true Habs fan) who, on the whole, didn't really know how to skate. Now, I'm not much of a skater myself. I can only go in one direction and I cannot stop. At home I would stick out as a beginner, but here, I like to think I looked pretty darn good.
Truly, as soon as I took my first glide on the ice, I felt at home. Do you ever find yourself in one of those perfect moments when you feel both at total peace and yet totally full of glowing joy? That's about the best I can do to describe what I felt like out there. I don't know why or what it was, but that was my favourite New York moment that I want to relive again and again.
It wasn't too long after we first hit the ice that NYF fell. My first reaction was to call out, "Tooooooe Piiiick!" a la Moira Kelly in The Cutting Edge. But I cut myself off quickly when I remembered that NYF had never seen that movie before, and that he was probably really hurting and not finding the humour in the scene at all.
Once he picked himself up and we started going again I did my best to make him feel better by pointing out all the other guys he was better skater than. I pointed to this one burly black fellow who was clinging dearly to the girls he had propping him up under each arm.
We had to clear the ice for ten minutes or so while they ran the Zamboni over it. I had noticed a few guys wearing what had to be rental hockey skates and asked NYF if he wanted to see if he could trade his skates in for a pair. But he declined. I had to respect his determination and sense of adventure. Or maybe it was a twisted sense of pride. Regardless, it was admirable. Or dumb. One of those.
While we waited for the ice to be cleaned we sat, people watched and cleaned the snow off our our blades. I told NYF about the scene from The Cutting Edge and the whole premise of the movie. (If you are unfamiliar with it, a fault I will overlook, it's a movie about a prissy pairs figure skater who teams up with a former hockey player to get to the Olympics. Hilarity and romance ensue.)
"They start off hating each other," I explain to NYF.
"And then they fall in love?" NYF said.
"Yeah,"I nodded with a hopeless romantic sigh.
A tiny snowball hit my sleeve. I looked over at NYF who was busy looking everywhere but at me.
"Some punk-ass kids are throwing snowballs around here," I said with mock disdain.
"I know!" NYF played along. And right then I saw it, a little flicker of the wide-eyed, playful spirit I had met two years ago. That was probably my second favourite New York moment.
We skated around for a bit longer. It was just like being on the sidewalks--dodging the crowds and losing and finding each other again. Honestly, I was amazed I didn't fall down myself or take out any kids. It was probably the first time in the last two years that I didn't fall at least once.
Eventually, NYF admitted he was getting blisters and sounded like he was ready to move along. After a few more laps I took one last look at the park and the sky scrapers around me and left the ice. I could have stayed out there all day.
"Where are we going now?" I asked.
"The Empire State Building."
NYF suggested I stop in at the Walgreen's to pick up batteries for my camera. I figured I had already missed pictures of the penguins, polar bears, sea lions and skating, so what difference would it make that I'd miss out on a few shots of the city. I bought a pack anyway and we headed up.
The Empire State Building had two surprises for me. The first was the level of security. It was like going through the airport all over again. I had to take off my belt and toss my glass bottle of orange juice.
The second surprise was, I guess I didn't really have a concept of what you come to see at the Empire State Building. The last tall tower I went up was in Calgary and the viewing level was all closed in. I was not expecting that we would be able to step outside to take in the view. So when we got up there, NYF went right outside while I hurried to put my scarf, mitts and jacket back on.
The view was spectacular and I caught it just as the sun was going down. Sad as I am that I don't have pictures from the rest of the day, I am pretty happy with the ones I got that evening.
While on my trip I have to say that I noticed a lot of love around me. There were always people canoodling and getting lost in each other. I'm sure they miss out on a lot of great sights, so it's kind of a shame, really. You just can't go to New York distracted.
While taking some shots of the city and experiencing a windchill that really made me feel at home, I happened to glance behind me and witness a couple get engaged. Figuring that they were not really noticing anything going on around them at that point, I took a picture of them too. This is what love looks like:
I told NYF about it.
"Surrounded by all these tourists out in the cold?" He did not see the appeal. I imagine when he and the future Mrs. NYF get engaged, they will be riding elephants across the Serengeti or something and he will present her with an earth- and socially-friendly bamboo ring. I only hope that should I find myself agreeing to spend the rest of my natural life with someone, I will be some place where we are not so cold that there is a high risk of shaking fingers dropping the ring and watching it roll down a drain or something. That would be unfortunate.
We stood inside for a while, not saying anything and just looking out. This was my last official New York moment, my last night in New York. That weighed heavily on my mind for a bit. NYF was apparently caught up in watching a carabiner attached to a net getting whipped around by the wind. Well that's what he told me anyway.
NYF wanted to grab some Indian take-out food. He asked me what I like and how spicy I liked it. I had to admit that I had never had Indian food before. He ordered some chicken, some rice and some green soupy stuff that he told me was cheese and spinach.
When we got back to his place we ate picnic style on his bed. The food was good, but it made my stomach gurgle.
"Do you want to watch a movie?"
"Sounds good," I said.
We had watched my copy of Elf on Friday night (I think it was Friday), so he asked what else I had. I looked. I had Serendipity. Serendipity is one of my all time favourites but I had only bought a copy of it the week before. I was standing in line at Shoppers Drug Mart buying some hair product when something on the DVD carousel caught my eye. At first I thought it was The Cutting Edge, which I only have a VHS copy of, but it was even more perfect, dare I say, serendipitous, that it was not. It was only $9.99. I grabbed it and went to the next till to pay for it.
"I don't get this movie," the girl at the till said. "Everyone loves it, but I don't get it."
"Oh, it's really good. It's one of my favourites," I said.
"Well, what's it about?"
"It's about the idea that people are meant to be together and it shows all the things they go through and the path they take to get to that moment."
The girl was still not convinced. "But doesn't that happen to everyone?"
I suppose she had a point, but I was not happy to stand there any longer and let this naive and unaware young thing ruin my serendipity. I finished paying and quickly left.
While I had brought Serendipity along to watch on the plane or between planes, I did not think that it was the kind of thing that NYF would have any interest in watching.
"Do you want to watch it?" he asked.
"Do you want to watch it?
"Sure."
So we did. And we tried to pick out all the New York locations. NYF even laughed. Oddly, I enjoyed it less this time than I usually do.
After it ended I said, "I can't believe you didn't eject it after the first ten minutes."
"Guys have a certain level of tolerance for these things."
Then we watched his pick, When Harry Met Sally, which is of course a classic New York movie. I had never seen it all from start to finish and I always wanted to know if Harry and Sally ended up together. When they did, I wanted to throw my socks at the screen.
After that, NYF helped me figure out my bus and subway plans for my return to the airport. It looked easy enough but I was not excited about lugging that suitcase around again. Especially not down NYF's steep stairs.
The next morning I got up before NYF did. I tried to be quiet but every time I do that it seems that I am even more noisy. He woke up at one point and said good morning.
I had to leave his place by eight and I knew he usually got up around 7:30 to get ready for work. But he seemed to be sleeping in this morning so I lugged all my stuff out into the living room and did a double check to ensure I had everything. While going through the pockets of my bag I found my full package of batteries that I had packed. Of course.
I also saw the two other roommates that I had not met when I arrived on Thursday night. I nodded or said hello, but I didn't see the point in getting into introducing myself at this juncture of the trip. At about quarter to I was feeling antsy so I went and peeked into NYF's room.
He was sitting at his piano keyboard, playing something, and looked up with a surprised face. He stood up and we hugged in a courteous manner.
"Thanks for everything," I said.
"Thank you for coming," he said. "Have a safe voyage home."
In the moment, I nearly choked. No, good seeing you again? Hope you had fun? Hope you had a great birthday, this was great? Nope, just all the warmth and sentimentality of a border security guard, like he was reciting from a book titled Common Polite English Expressions to Use with People You Don't Really Like. All I could think was, wow, this must have been an awful five days for him. I must have been an absolutely dreadful pain for him to have around. This must be the end to a beautiful friendship. But later, when I was back home and far away from the magical, sparkly city, I thought about it again and saw it differently. As my grandmother would say, "it's sad, really", but it is what it is.
New York was a fabulous adventure. I am so happy I went and so happy about all the things I saw and did. I am proud that I rode the subway with only a few troubles and that I didn't fail trapeze school. I'd love to go back. I've been bitten.
This also marks the end of my story about NYF (All along I wished I could some how add in a T at the end and call him NYF-T, you know, like NIFF-TY. He would have hated that.) Somewhere around the last post I started to wonder if I should have made him such a feature character in the story, but it's really kind of hard to tell the whole adventure without including him. My impression of him is that he keeps things pretty close inside, which I understand and respect. At the same time though, this is my story and I have a journalist's view of things--nothing is off the record. That goes for me too. I believe that NYF has a caring heart and a beautiful spirit. I hope he did have some fun over the weekend (I'm pretty sure he did). I wish him all the best for his own New York adventure.
Thank you for reading. I hope you have a safe voyage through the Internet.
;)
The night before NYF was telling me about how much he enjoys museums and architecture because he loves the amazing history of it all. I get inspired by nature, whether that is when I am lost in a forest or staring into the eyes of another creature. I watched the penguins hop around and swim by. Sometimes they would swim right up to me and I'd just stand there completely captivated. NYF knew the penguins were something I'd want to do, but I don't know if he understood or could understand how much I love to watch animals.
We saw sea lions, monkeys and polar bears--oh my! I wish that I had had batteries for my camera to take pictures. The bears were beautiful and the sea lions were playful and smart. Had it been a lazy and sunny afternoon I could have stayed all day.
After leaving the park, NYF lead us to 5th Ave. We passed the Apple store and then NYF headed for the line up to get into FAO Schwartz.
Stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes and kinds lined the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Your birthday present is in there," NYF said.
The line moved quickly and so we soon found ourselves inside the over-sized toy box. I put my hands out to touch everything soft and furry.
Somewhere in the middle of the store, NYF guided me to the left. He pointed to a small, red beaked, stuffed penguin and said, "that."
I picked it up and immediately checked the tag to see if it said what kind of penguin it was (I had never heard of a red-beaked one before). It didn't say, but it did give a name, "Peggy." I loved it.
"You want it?" NYF asked.
With my eyes wide open I nodded and gave an emphatic, "yes." I carried the little bird close to me all around the rest of the store.
We went upstairs where they had the Lego and Playmobile sections and then found ourselves in the crowd around the big floor piano. A petite and perky blonde girl, and a much taller guy were preparing to give a performance.
They girl addressed the crowd to get everyone in a cheering and shouting mood. She asked everyone who was proud of where they were from to put their hands up. I put mine up. Then she went around asking where those people were from.
"Winnipeg!" I said when she got to me.
"Connecticut's here! That's awesome!" she said back.
NYF and I immediately looked at each other and laughed.
After the toy store we decided to check out POP Burger. I was immediately enticed by it because it was emitting loud music. Inside the small store, the walls are covered in wood paneling and Andy Warhol prints. I placed my order for the two, bite sized POP burgers, a large cup of onion rings, and a Diet Coke.
Don't be fooled, just because this is a swanky burger place does not mean they have an elite level of staff. The guy taking my order was a bit of a space case.
"Name?" he asked me.
"Jill."
I guess I have some serious kind of accent because apparently New York was not understanding me that day. When I got my receipt the name printed at the top was "GIL".
I laughed and turned to NYF. "Look, I'm Gil from Connecticut!" I came to New York only for a weekend, but I was leaving with a whole new identity.
I asked NYF if this is where posh parents took their kids for lunch after shopping with them at FAO Schwartz.
"No, this is for tourists."
I looked over at an expensive-looking family in the back. I had just assumed they were locals, but I suppose it was entirely possible they were just in for the weekend and showing their kids the local hot spots. Who knows. That's New York.
After lunch we made our way down 5th Ave. The sidewalks were packed with masses of people who all seemed to be moving against us. After having spent a few days negotiating the crowds I was finding I enjoyed the sport of getting through them. I'd search out a clear path and zip to the front at the intersections to gain a few positions. I didn't even look to make sure I hadn't lost NYF because I knew he was close by, and sure enough, at the few clearings we'd meet up again and then the race was back on.
We walked to Bryant Park, which we had checked out the day before, where we were hopefully going to go skating. I was super excited about this.
When we finally got inside, we rented skates and a cubby to put our stuff in. The guy handed NYF and I the same blue plastic skates. I looked at mine and then looked at his. Yup, figure skates.
"What are these?" NYF asked, looking at the spikes coming out of his blades.
"These are figure skates," I said. I looked around and noticed that most men were wearing the same thing, and even some men were wearing authentic men's figure skates that they had actually gone to the store and purchased.
NYF had a lot of questions. "What do you use these for?"
"Jumps and spins and stuff."
"How do you skate with these things?"
"I don't know, I just do."
The rink was small to begin with. I mean, it had to be smaller than an outdoor hockey rink at a community centre. And it was packed with tourists and New Yorkers and one Maple Leafs fan (much to the chagrin of NYF, a true Habs fan) who, on the whole, didn't really know how to skate. Now, I'm not much of a skater myself. I can only go in one direction and I cannot stop. At home I would stick out as a beginner, but here, I like to think I looked pretty darn good.
Truly, as soon as I took my first glide on the ice, I felt at home. Do you ever find yourself in one of those perfect moments when you feel both at total peace and yet totally full of glowing joy? That's about the best I can do to describe what I felt like out there. I don't know why or what it was, but that was my favourite New York moment that I want to relive again and again.
It wasn't too long after we first hit the ice that NYF fell. My first reaction was to call out, "Tooooooe Piiiick!" a la Moira Kelly in The Cutting Edge. But I cut myself off quickly when I remembered that NYF had never seen that movie before, and that he was probably really hurting and not finding the humour in the scene at all.
Once he picked himself up and we started going again I did my best to make him feel better by pointing out all the other guys he was better skater than. I pointed to this one burly black fellow who was clinging dearly to the girls he had propping him up under each arm.
We had to clear the ice for ten minutes or so while they ran the Zamboni over it. I had noticed a few guys wearing what had to be rental hockey skates and asked NYF if he wanted to see if he could trade his skates in for a pair. But he declined. I had to respect his determination and sense of adventure. Or maybe it was a twisted sense of pride. Regardless, it was admirable. Or dumb. One of those.
While we waited for the ice to be cleaned we sat, people watched and cleaned the snow off our our blades. I told NYF about the scene from The Cutting Edge and the whole premise of the movie. (If you are unfamiliar with it, a fault I will overlook, it's a movie about a prissy pairs figure skater who teams up with a former hockey player to get to the Olympics. Hilarity and romance ensue.)
"They start off hating each other," I explain to NYF.
"And then they fall in love?" NYF said.
"Yeah,"I nodded with a hopeless romantic sigh.
A tiny snowball hit my sleeve. I looked over at NYF who was busy looking everywhere but at me.
"Some punk-ass kids are throwing snowballs around here," I said with mock disdain.
"I know!" NYF played along. And right then I saw it, a little flicker of the wide-eyed, playful spirit I had met two years ago. That was probably my second favourite New York moment.
We skated around for a bit longer. It was just like being on the sidewalks--dodging the crowds and losing and finding each other again. Honestly, I was amazed I didn't fall down myself or take out any kids. It was probably the first time in the last two years that I didn't fall at least once.
Eventually, NYF admitted he was getting blisters and sounded like he was ready to move along. After a few more laps I took one last look at the park and the sky scrapers around me and left the ice. I could have stayed out there all day.
"Where are we going now?" I asked.
"The Empire State Building."
NYF suggested I stop in at the Walgreen's to pick up batteries for my camera. I figured I had already missed pictures of the penguins, polar bears, sea lions and skating, so what difference would it make that I'd miss out on a few shots of the city. I bought a pack anyway and we headed up.
The Empire State Building had two surprises for me. The first was the level of security. It was like going through the airport all over again. I had to take off my belt and toss my glass bottle of orange juice.
The second surprise was, I guess I didn't really have a concept of what you come to see at the Empire State Building. The last tall tower I went up was in Calgary and the viewing level was all closed in. I was not expecting that we would be able to step outside to take in the view. So when we got up there, NYF went right outside while I hurried to put my scarf, mitts and jacket back on.
The view was spectacular and I caught it just as the sun was going down. Sad as I am that I don't have pictures from the rest of the day, I am pretty happy with the ones I got that evening.
While on my trip I have to say that I noticed a lot of love around me. There were always people canoodling and getting lost in each other. I'm sure they miss out on a lot of great sights, so it's kind of a shame, really. You just can't go to New York distracted.
While taking some shots of the city and experiencing a windchill that really made me feel at home, I happened to glance behind me and witness a couple get engaged. Figuring that they were not really noticing anything going on around them at that point, I took a picture of them too. This is what love looks like:
I told NYF about it.
"Surrounded by all these tourists out in the cold?" He did not see the appeal. I imagine when he and the future Mrs. NYF get engaged, they will be riding elephants across the Serengeti or something and he will present her with an earth- and socially-friendly bamboo ring. I only hope that should I find myself agreeing to spend the rest of my natural life with someone, I will be some place where we are not so cold that there is a high risk of shaking fingers dropping the ring and watching it roll down a drain or something. That would be unfortunate.
We stood inside for a while, not saying anything and just looking out. This was my last official New York moment, my last night in New York. That weighed heavily on my mind for a bit. NYF was apparently caught up in watching a carabiner attached to a net getting whipped around by the wind. Well that's what he told me anyway.
NYF wanted to grab some Indian take-out food. He asked me what I like and how spicy I liked it. I had to admit that I had never had Indian food before. He ordered some chicken, some rice and some green soupy stuff that he told me was cheese and spinach.
When we got back to his place we ate picnic style on his bed. The food was good, but it made my stomach gurgle.
"Do you want to watch a movie?"
"Sounds good," I said.
We had watched my copy of Elf on Friday night (I think it was Friday), so he asked what else I had. I looked. I had Serendipity. Serendipity is one of my all time favourites but I had only bought a copy of it the week before. I was standing in line at Shoppers Drug Mart buying some hair product when something on the DVD carousel caught my eye. At first I thought it was The Cutting Edge, which I only have a VHS copy of, but it was even more perfect, dare I say, serendipitous, that it was not. It was only $9.99. I grabbed it and went to the next till to pay for it.
"I don't get this movie," the girl at the till said. "Everyone loves it, but I don't get it."
"Oh, it's really good. It's one of my favourites," I said.
"Well, what's it about?"
"It's about the idea that people are meant to be together and it shows all the things they go through and the path they take to get to that moment."
The girl was still not convinced. "But doesn't that happen to everyone?"
I suppose she had a point, but I was not happy to stand there any longer and let this naive and unaware young thing ruin my serendipity. I finished paying and quickly left.
While I had brought Serendipity along to watch on the plane or between planes, I did not think that it was the kind of thing that NYF would have any interest in watching.
"Do you want to watch it?" he asked.
"Do you want to watch it?
"Sure."
So we did. And we tried to pick out all the New York locations. NYF even laughed. Oddly, I enjoyed it less this time than I usually do.
After it ended I said, "I can't believe you didn't eject it after the first ten minutes."
"Guys have a certain level of tolerance for these things."
Then we watched his pick, When Harry Met Sally, which is of course a classic New York movie. I had never seen it all from start to finish and I always wanted to know if Harry and Sally ended up together. When they did, I wanted to throw my socks at the screen.
After that, NYF helped me figure out my bus and subway plans for my return to the airport. It looked easy enough but I was not excited about lugging that suitcase around again. Especially not down NYF's steep stairs.
The next morning I got up before NYF did. I tried to be quiet but every time I do that it seems that I am even more noisy. He woke up at one point and said good morning.
I had to leave his place by eight and I knew he usually got up around 7:30 to get ready for work. But he seemed to be sleeping in this morning so I lugged all my stuff out into the living room and did a double check to ensure I had everything. While going through the pockets of my bag I found my full package of batteries that I had packed. Of course.
I also saw the two other roommates that I had not met when I arrived on Thursday night. I nodded or said hello, but I didn't see the point in getting into introducing myself at this juncture of the trip. At about quarter to I was feeling antsy so I went and peeked into NYF's room.
He was sitting at his piano keyboard, playing something, and looked up with a surprised face. He stood up and we hugged in a courteous manner.
"Thanks for everything," I said.
"Thank you for coming," he said. "Have a safe voyage home."
In the moment, I nearly choked. No, good seeing you again? Hope you had fun? Hope you had a great birthday, this was great? Nope, just all the warmth and sentimentality of a border security guard, like he was reciting from a book titled Common Polite English Expressions to Use with People You Don't Really Like. All I could think was, wow, this must have been an awful five days for him. I must have been an absolutely dreadful pain for him to have around. This must be the end to a beautiful friendship. But later, when I was back home and far away from the magical, sparkly city, I thought about it again and saw it differently. As my grandmother would say, "it's sad, really", but it is what it is.
New York was a fabulous adventure. I am so happy I went and so happy about all the things I saw and did. I am proud that I rode the subway with only a few troubles and that I didn't fail trapeze school. I'd love to go back. I've been bitten.
Thank you for reading. I hope you have a safe voyage through the Internet.
;)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The only living boy in New York--Simon and Garfunkel
I was reading my last post this morning and realised it could have used a good proof-reading before I hit publish. I'm sorry readers, you deserve better. I can't promise this is it though.
I've been haunted by New York today. At the restaurant where we had lunch there were big prints of the Brooklyn Bridge hanging on the wall. Later, when I was watching Oprah at my mom's and dad's, she was interviewing the cast of Sex and the City. Sigh, I was just starting my adventure there a whole week ago. I wish it would call me or send flowers.
Anywho, back to my story.
Since we did not get cake on my birthday, NYF decided we would have cake for breakfast on Saturday morning. So we walked and found a place, although I insisted on having something with some nutritional value before digging into my triple layer chocolate mousse cake.
We then made our way to the financial district because I wanted to see the bull I always see on TV and in movies. It was hard to find and a bit of a disappointment. But I saw it.
We took the ferry across to Staten Island, passing the Statue of Liberty along the way. I don't really get Staten Island. It's like the less interesting sibling of Manhattan that seems to have lost its sense of purpose. While waiting for the ferry back I noticed the island was having a town hall style meeting that day to discuss a new vision for the island and ways to make it better. The ferry station had two very nice fish tanks. Maybe they were a result of the last meeting.
After the ferry we wandered over to the Brooklyn bridge. NYF had already crossed it but I think it must be one of his favourite sites. He told me the story of how the bridge was built, and I really thought he was making it all up at first.
"...and then the builder rode a rope across to the other side," NYF carried on.
"And the bridge was dedicated to the people of Brooklyn," I added, thinking it sounded like a fitting detail for the tale.
"Really?"
"I don't know, I was just adding to the story," I said. "I'm sure when we get up there, there will be a sign saying the bridge is dedicated to someone."
But there wasn't.
We crossed over into Brooklyn, found a subway station and rode back to Times Square with the mission to find tickets to a Broadway show.
At this point, my foot was feeling pretty broken again. I managed to keep pace with NYF as we made our way though the crowds but my spirit was fading. I truly wasn't excited about the Broadway show thing. I know, I know, it's the thing to do in New York, but shows just aren't my thing. I'm not into jazz hands and over dramatic sing-songs. We tried to get tickets to a play but they were sold out, save for the really expensive seats. So I was pretty much dragging myself around and giving pretty listless answers. I was waiting for NYF to get frustrated with me, but he didn't.
We headed home without any tickets but NYF wasn't ready to give up. He continued to research online and presented me with three options, one of them being the Nutcracker Ballet. That sounded good to me, and, bonus, a reasonable price.
At NYF's suggestion, I had brought a black, ruffled skirt and pink dressy top (the one in my picture on my blog actually). My left leg was a terrible mess of bruises from falling down the escalator stairs at Best Buy, not to mention the Band Aids stylishly wrapping my toes. My hair was a bit limp from wearing my hat all day. I felt like leftovers.
I left the bathroom and went into NYF's room to put on my shoes.
"You look pretty, " he said.
"Thanks," I replied shyly. I figured he only offered the compliment because it was the appropriate thing to say in the situation. I mention this because I don't want you to start thinking that this is one of those kind of stories that will go in a particular direction. It's not, I assure you.
He gestured to his suit so I said, "You look very nice too," because he did. I wish I had a picture of us from that night, but the batteries in my camera died at the Brooklyn Bridge so there is a large chunk of my trip that did not get visually captured.
"Your hair looks good." NYF said as we headed out.
"You are being too kind."
We got to the street corner and he asked, "Which way do we go?"
"NYF!" I rolled my head back in protest. I was in heels and bare legs. I was not up for playing the "left/right" game. But he insisted, so I picked a direction, which ended up being the right one.
Surprisingly, no, shockingly, I wasn't cold and my feet didn't hurt. Well, they did a bit, but in new places, which was refreshing. Finally, in four inch heels I felt very much in the mood for strolling New York streets. This must be what it feels like to be a New York woman.
"Are you cold?" he asked, at least twice.
"No," I replied honestly. I was reminded of a favourite memory of mine, and almost started into telling him a boy story. NYF seems to enjoy my boy stories and asks for them often. The one that came to mind was about the time when I was 14 and on a camping trip with my family. I met this sweetheart of a guy and we went for a walk on the trails. He kept asking me if I was cold and I kept saying "no", because I wasn't, but I kind of think he kept hoping I'd say yes, so he could fix that.
I had never seen the Nutcracker ballet before. Actually, I had never seen a full ballet before, only the student performances at Ballet in the Park.
"Have you seen the Nutcracker before?" I asked NYF.
He nodded. "Yeah, we used to go every year."
"Have you seen the New York Ballet before?"
"Yes, I saw the Nutcracker here."
"Awww!" I said, feeling bad that I had chosen something he had already experienced.
"It's okay, I wanted to see this," he said.
At intermission we wandered around the top floor of Lincoln Center. NYF was quiet. I walked ahead of him on my own and admired the beautiful pearl curtains. it was like wandering around in a lady's jewelery box. I had one of those moments where it felt like I was in a very poignant scene from a movie, right before the heroine looks up and sees her handsome soon-to-be lover. I looked across the room and only saw other young women. Oh well.
When we stepped outside after the ballet, soft, fluffy snow was falling. People were oohing and ahhing over it. I laughed and said to NYF, "at home, people would be saying aw man, it's snowing! Now I have to shovel!"
We walked uptown to check out this little French restaurant NYF had found online. We weren't sure if it would still be open, and in fact weren't completely sure of its status until we were right at the door.
"Are you coming in to eat?" the hostess asked.
"We were hoping to," NYF said.
"We were just about to close the kitchen for the night, but come in, if you can order quickly it should be fine."
The restaurant was dark and cozy. The food was the best I'd ever tasted and the service was pleasing even though we had just extended their evening.
Finally I felt like NYF and I had some time to catch up. I asked him about his plans for New York, for life. His answers were, no surprise, worldly.
"Do you think you'll ever live anywhere other than Winnipeg?" He asked me.
"Maybe, I'm not sure."
"Is there anywhere else you want to live?"
"I'm not sure." A while ago I had a dream of moving west and getting a job with The Agency out there. Mostly when I think of moving it's to escape something though, which doesn't seem like a good reason to do something. As the conversation continued I realised that I'm much more of a "one day at a time, see what comes about" kind of girl, but he is a"make a plan to do everything you possibly can and go out to create your own destiny" kind of guy. Until that night I never truly appreciated how our backgrounds, philosophies and perspectives are so different. All I could think was, how did we ever end up sitting at the same table again?
After the late dinner we headed out into the night and made our way home. I could feel new wounds opening up where the straps of my shoes rubbed into my ankles. It seemed that I would be leaving Manhattan with many different scars. It hurt. A lot.
I've been haunted by New York today. At the restaurant where we had lunch there were big prints of the Brooklyn Bridge hanging on the wall. Later, when I was watching Oprah at my mom's and dad's, she was interviewing the cast of Sex and the City. Sigh, I was just starting my adventure there a whole week ago. I wish it would call me or send flowers.
Anywho, back to my story.
Since we did not get cake on my birthday, NYF decided we would have cake for breakfast on Saturday morning. So we walked and found a place, although I insisted on having something with some nutritional value before digging into my triple layer chocolate mousse cake.
We then made our way to the financial district because I wanted to see the bull I always see on TV and in movies. It was hard to find and a bit of a disappointment. But I saw it.
We took the ferry across to Staten Island, passing the Statue of Liberty along the way. I don't really get Staten Island. It's like the less interesting sibling of Manhattan that seems to have lost its sense of purpose. While waiting for the ferry back I noticed the island was having a town hall style meeting that day to discuss a new vision for the island and ways to make it better. The ferry station had two very nice fish tanks. Maybe they were a result of the last meeting.
After the ferry we wandered over to the Brooklyn bridge. NYF had already crossed it but I think it must be one of his favourite sites. He told me the story of how the bridge was built, and I really thought he was making it all up at first.
"...and then the builder rode a rope across to the other side," NYF carried on.
"And the bridge was dedicated to the people of Brooklyn," I added, thinking it sounded like a fitting detail for the tale.
"Really?"
"I don't know, I was just adding to the story," I said. "I'm sure when we get up there, there will be a sign saying the bridge is dedicated to someone."
But there wasn't.
We crossed over into Brooklyn, found a subway station and rode back to Times Square with the mission to find tickets to a Broadway show.
At this point, my foot was feeling pretty broken again. I managed to keep pace with NYF as we made our way though the crowds but my spirit was fading. I truly wasn't excited about the Broadway show thing. I know, I know, it's the thing to do in New York, but shows just aren't my thing. I'm not into jazz hands and over dramatic sing-songs. We tried to get tickets to a play but they were sold out, save for the really expensive seats. So I was pretty much dragging myself around and giving pretty listless answers. I was waiting for NYF to get frustrated with me, but he didn't.
We headed home without any tickets but NYF wasn't ready to give up. He continued to research online and presented me with three options, one of them being the Nutcracker Ballet. That sounded good to me, and, bonus, a reasonable price.
At NYF's suggestion, I had brought a black, ruffled skirt and pink dressy top (the one in my picture on my blog actually). My left leg was a terrible mess of bruises from falling down the escalator stairs at Best Buy, not to mention the Band Aids stylishly wrapping my toes. My hair was a bit limp from wearing my hat all day. I felt like leftovers.
I left the bathroom and went into NYF's room to put on my shoes.
"You look pretty, " he said.
"Thanks," I replied shyly. I figured he only offered the compliment because it was the appropriate thing to say in the situation. I mention this because I don't want you to start thinking that this is one of those kind of stories that will go in a particular direction. It's not, I assure you.
He gestured to his suit so I said, "You look very nice too," because he did. I wish I had a picture of us from that night, but the batteries in my camera died at the Brooklyn Bridge so there is a large chunk of my trip that did not get visually captured.
"Your hair looks good." NYF said as we headed out.
"You are being too kind."
We got to the street corner and he asked, "Which way do we go?"
"NYF!" I rolled my head back in protest. I was in heels and bare legs. I was not up for playing the "left/right" game. But he insisted, so I picked a direction, which ended up being the right one.
Surprisingly, no, shockingly, I wasn't cold and my feet didn't hurt. Well, they did a bit, but in new places, which was refreshing. Finally, in four inch heels I felt very much in the mood for strolling New York streets. This must be what it feels like to be a New York woman.
"Are you cold?" he asked, at least twice.
"No," I replied honestly. I was reminded of a favourite memory of mine, and almost started into telling him a boy story. NYF seems to enjoy my boy stories and asks for them often. The one that came to mind was about the time when I was 14 and on a camping trip with my family. I met this sweetheart of a guy and we went for a walk on the trails. He kept asking me if I was cold and I kept saying "no", because I wasn't, but I kind of think he kept hoping I'd say yes, so he could fix that.
I had never seen the Nutcracker ballet before. Actually, I had never seen a full ballet before, only the student performances at Ballet in the Park.
"Have you seen the Nutcracker before?" I asked NYF.
He nodded. "Yeah, we used to go every year."
"Have you seen the New York Ballet before?"
"Yes, I saw the Nutcracker here."
"Awww!" I said, feeling bad that I had chosen something he had already experienced.
"It's okay, I wanted to see this," he said.
At intermission we wandered around the top floor of Lincoln Center. NYF was quiet. I walked ahead of him on my own and admired the beautiful pearl curtains. it was like wandering around in a lady's jewelery box. I had one of those moments where it felt like I was in a very poignant scene from a movie, right before the heroine looks up and sees her handsome soon-to-be lover. I looked across the room and only saw other young women. Oh well.
When we stepped outside after the ballet, soft, fluffy snow was falling. People were oohing and ahhing over it. I laughed and said to NYF, "at home, people would be saying aw man, it's snowing! Now I have to shovel!"
We walked uptown to check out this little French restaurant NYF had found online. We weren't sure if it would still be open, and in fact weren't completely sure of its status until we were right at the door.
"Are you coming in to eat?" the hostess asked.
"We were hoping to," NYF said.
"We were just about to close the kitchen for the night, but come in, if you can order quickly it should be fine."
The restaurant was dark and cozy. The food was the best I'd ever tasted and the service was pleasing even though we had just extended their evening.
Finally I felt like NYF and I had some time to catch up. I asked him about his plans for New York, for life. His answers were, no surprise, worldly.
"Do you think you'll ever live anywhere other than Winnipeg?" He asked me.
"Maybe, I'm not sure."
"Is there anywhere else you want to live?"
"I'm not sure." A while ago I had a dream of moving west and getting a job with The Agency out there. Mostly when I think of moving it's to escape something though, which doesn't seem like a good reason to do something. As the conversation continued I realised that I'm much more of a "one day at a time, see what comes about" kind of girl, but he is a"make a plan to do everything you possibly can and go out to create your own destiny" kind of guy. Until that night I never truly appreciated how our backgrounds, philosophies and perspectives are so different. All I could think was, how did we ever end up sitting at the same table again?
After the late dinner we headed out into the night and made our way home. I could feel new wounds opening up where the straps of my shoes rubbed into my ankles. It seemed that I would be leaving Manhattan with many different scars. It hurt. A lot.
Eleanor Put Your Boots On. Jillian take yours off.
I forgot to mention in the last post that all along my travels from Winnipeg to Toronto to NY I was texting my friends and family to tell them things like, "I'm in Toronto!" and "I've landed in New York!" I was sure that I had texted my dad when I met up with NYF. We were at the bank and NYF was taking out money so I took the moment to send a message. But apparently it didn't get through because later that night NYF was checking his e-mail and had a note from my parents asking him to tell me to send them a message to let them know that I was okay and not roaming the subways lost and alone (they had his e-mail because I sent them both my itinerary when I booked my flight).
How old was I turning again?
NYF said it was "sweet" but I think he was just being polite. Later that weekend he asked me if I ever wanted to live somewhere other than Winnipeg. How could I explain to NYF (who had previously been San Francisco Friend and East Africa Friend) that I would have no problem moving away, anywhere, for a period of time, if it were not for the fact that it would certainly kill my parents.
On to day two: my birthday.
We got up early and headed to a place (I should remember the name, but I don't right now) for authentic New York bagels. Mine had sesame seeds on it. It was good, but I was disappointed with the lack of options. I like the multi-grain-type of bread products, which seem to be kind of rare in New York. After giving my jaw a good workout with the chewy (in a good way) breakfast, NYF and I parted so he could go to work and I could start my solo adventure on the island of Manhattan.
I started walking, with no particular destination in mind, down Amsterdam until it seemed to get less populated and less interesting. I stopped to buy a copy of the New York Times and the New York Post so I could check my birthday horoscope. At a random corner I turned left and followed behind a mother and her three children until I got to Columbus. I soon found a Starbucks where I grabbed a latte and pulled out my maps.
I knew I wanted to go to Steve and Barry's in the Manhattan Mall to check out Sarah Jessica Parker's clothing line, Bitten. So I found a subway route that seemed appropriate and took the plunge.
I got off a stop too far. I think I ended up at the corner of 8Av and 6th. So I walked. And soon enough I started to shuffle because blisters were forming on my feet and making their painful presence known loud and clear. I stopped in at CO Bigelow's on 6th Av and made my first purchase: a box of Band Aids. I sat right down on a chair in the store, took off my boots and taped up my toes.
I enjoyed my mosey down 6th and stopped every once in a while to take some pictures. I also stopped in at a stationery store to buy postcards for what seemed like a standard 69 cents each. Later I would see them as cheap as 15 for a buck. I carried on and soon found the mall I was looking for.
By this time though, my feet were really bad. Not only were the blisters bad, but the arch of my left foot felt like I had ripped it in two. I was almost limping. I stopped first in a few discount stores and then Journeys to try to find some cheap runners I could wear instead of my evil boots. I had resigned to the fact that my special purchase birthday shoes were going to be some funky coloured sneakers. However, I spotted Macy's next door and decided to check it out since I have often had good luck with finding a good deal on shoes there.
Lucky me, Macy's was having a one day major shoe sale! It was crazy busy in there and I didn't see a single runner, but I did spot a prize winning pair.
Black satin trimmed with gold, four-inch Betsey Johnson heel with a cute ribbon tie. The sole is bright pink and features the signature print of Betsey's winking face. I was in love. All pain melted away as I lifted the pieces of art out of their bright pink box and slipped them onto my feet. Yes, these would be my New York Birthday Shoes.
I happily limped out of Macy's and asked for directions to the nearest Payless Shoe Store where I then purchased my second gift to myself--plain black $27 runners. The boots went right into the shopping bag and I carried on with my journey.
I literally next wandered into Times Square. I had no idea it was on my route. I don't think I even realized right away what it was. I think I was expecting a sign or something.
My favourite part of the square was the Charmin Restrooms. I don't know how to explain this place. It's really a high energy space with 20 private stalls. People line up Disneyland-style and wait for the announcer to point them to the next empty room. All around you there are Charmin staff smiling and dancing. The facilities look like your bathroom at home, possibly nicer, and feature six different rolls of Charmin bathroom tissue products.
I eventually wandered out of Times Square and found myself back at Central Park. NYF was going to be at work until 6:30 so I had the choice to either meet him down there or wait for him to come back uptown. I was feeling pretty confident with my subway skills, so I decided to try meeting up with him. I texted him as I was going into the subway. Little did I know, the message did not go through and he had no idea I was on my way.
I took a B train with the intention to get off around 14 St. But I gambled with the stops, and lost, and ended up a good eight or nine blocks too far. So then I tried to come back, but took the wrong train and ended up only at 9th Av with NYF already making his way back uptown to the apartment. I started to panic because I had to be home in time for us to head out for the trapeze lessons. It was my birthday and I was cold and lost in New York. This was starting to feel awful. NYF texted me with simple directions that made me feel better. However, to make sure I made it in time I ran, shopping bags in tow, all the way up 6th AV to Penn Station. The mercy shoes became miracle shoes as there is no way I would have been able to do that in my boots.
When I emerged from the subway, back in NYF's neighbourhood, someone stopped me to ask for directions. Somewhat ironically, I actually knew what to tell them.
And then we went trapezing. I am tempted to skim this part because it didn't turn out to be as amazing as I thought it would be. It was fun, and I am happy I did it, but I don't feel passionate about the memory.
The instructors were friendly and enthusiastic. NYF was jumping up and down with excitement. I probably looked nervous, but I wasn't, I was just focused on trying to envision how I was going to do the swing. Trapezing is a bit technical--there is a stance you have to adopt and a series of positions to take before you will find yourself hanging by your knees. I learn best when I can check myself out in a mirror and see where I need to adjust my position. Basically I learn by figuring things out for myself. Having the instructors tell me each time that I need to hug my knees before wrapping my legs over the bar just wasn't helpful. NYF was a natural though and he was invited to attempt a catch, which he made (he was the one being caught). I was happy for him. I was also happy for myself just for being able to get into the knee hang and then do the back flip dismount (even though I did it wrong, but I imagine it looked cooler that way).
NYF and I headed home and kept our eyes open for places with cake. Unfortunately, (and somewhat oddly) most places were closed right up (I suppose it was somewhere between 11:00 p.m. and midnight, but still, what happened to "The city that never sleeps?). Fortunately, my mom had sent a piece of cake with me. I also packed a candle, but no lighter or match. I stuck the candle in the cake anyway and NYF shone his beside lamp on it while singing "Happy Birthday". At the end I blew on the candle and NYF flicked off the light. It was perfect.
Many people kindly sent me birthday greetings through Facebook, text messages and e-mails. I didn't have time to acknowledge them then, so I am thanking you all now. It was a lovely New York birthday.
How old was I turning again?
NYF said it was "sweet" but I think he was just being polite. Later that weekend he asked me if I ever wanted to live somewhere other than Winnipeg. How could I explain to NYF (who had previously been San Francisco Friend and East Africa Friend) that I would have no problem moving away, anywhere, for a period of time, if it were not for the fact that it would certainly kill my parents.
On to day two: my birthday.
We got up early and headed to a place (I should remember the name, but I don't right now) for authentic New York bagels. Mine had sesame seeds on it. It was good, but I was disappointed with the lack of options. I like the multi-grain-type of bread products, which seem to be kind of rare in New York. After giving my jaw a good workout with the chewy (in a good way) breakfast, NYF and I parted so he could go to work and I could start my solo adventure on the island of Manhattan.
I started walking, with no particular destination in mind, down Amsterdam until it seemed to get less populated and less interesting. I stopped to buy a copy of the New York Times and the New York Post so I could check my birthday horoscope. At a random corner I turned left and followed behind a mother and her three children until I got to Columbus. I soon found a Starbucks where I grabbed a latte and pulled out my maps.
I knew I wanted to go to Steve and Barry's in the Manhattan Mall to check out Sarah Jessica Parker's clothing line, Bitten. So I found a subway route that seemed appropriate and took the plunge.
I got off a stop too far. I think I ended up at the corner of 8Av and 6th. So I walked. And soon enough I started to shuffle because blisters were forming on my feet and making their painful presence known loud and clear. I stopped in at CO Bigelow's on 6th Av and made my first purchase: a box of Band Aids. I sat right down on a chair in the store, took off my boots and taped up my toes.
I enjoyed my mosey down 6th and stopped every once in a while to take some pictures. I also stopped in at a stationery store to buy postcards for what seemed like a standard 69 cents each. Later I would see them as cheap as 15 for a buck. I carried on and soon found the mall I was looking for.By this time though, my feet were really bad. Not only were the blisters bad, but the arch of my left foot felt like I had ripped it in two. I was almost limping. I stopped first in a few discount stores and then Journeys to try to find some cheap runners I could wear instead of my evil boots. I had resigned to the fact that my special purchase birthday shoes were going to be some funky coloured sneakers. However, I spotted Macy's next door and decided to check it out since I have often had good luck with finding a good deal on shoes there.
Lucky me, Macy's was having a one day major shoe sale! It was crazy busy in there and I didn't see a single runner, but I did spot a prize winning pair.
Black satin trimmed with gold, four-inch Betsey Johnson heel with a cute ribbon tie. The sole is bright pink and features the signature print of Betsey's winking face. I was in love. All pain melted away as I lifted the pieces of art out of their bright pink box and slipped them onto my feet. Yes, these would be my New York Birthday Shoes.
I happily limped out of Macy's and asked for directions to the nearest Payless Shoe Store where I then purchased my second gift to myself--plain black $27 runners. The boots went right into the shopping bag and I carried on with my journey.
I literally next wandered into Times Square. I had no idea it was on my route. I don't think I even realized right away what it was. I think I was expecting a sign or something.My favourite part of the square was the Charmin Restrooms. I don't know how to explain this place. It's really a high energy space with 20 private stalls. People line up Disneyland-style and wait for the announcer to point them to the next empty room. All around you there are Charmin staff smiling and dancing. The facilities look like your bathroom at home, possibly nicer, and feature six different rolls of Charmin bathroom tissue products.I eventually wandered out of Times Square and found myself back at Central Park. NYF was going to be at work until 6:30 so I had the choice to either meet him down there or wait for him to come back uptown. I was feeling pretty confident with my subway skills, so I decided to try meeting up with him. I texted him as I was going into the subway. Little did I know, the message did not go through and he had no idea I was on my way.
I took a B train with the intention to get off around 14 St. But I gambled with the stops, and lost, and ended up a good eight or nine blocks too far. So then I tried to come back, but took the wrong train and ended up only at 9th Av with NYF already making his way back uptown to the apartment. I started to panic because I had to be home in time for us to head out for the trapeze lessons. It was my birthday and I was cold and lost in New York. This was starting to feel awful. NYF texted me with simple directions that made me feel better. However, to make sure I made it in time I ran, shopping bags in tow, all the way up 6th AV to Penn Station. The mercy shoes became miracle shoes as there is no way I would have been able to do that in my boots.
When I emerged from the subway, back in NYF's neighbourhood, someone stopped me to ask for directions. Somewhat ironically, I actually knew what to tell them.
And then we went trapezing. I am tempted to skim this part because it didn't turn out to be as amazing as I thought it would be. It was fun, and I am happy I did it, but I don't feel passionate about the memory.
The instructors were friendly and enthusiastic. NYF was jumping up and down with excitement. I probably looked nervous, but I wasn't, I was just focused on trying to envision how I was going to do the swing. Trapezing is a bit technical--there is a stance you have to adopt and a series of positions to take before you will find yourself hanging by your knees. I learn best when I can check myself out in a mirror and see where I need to adjust my position. Basically I learn by figuring things out for myself. Having the instructors tell me each time that I need to hug my knees before wrapping my legs over the bar just wasn't helpful. NYF was a natural though and he was invited to attempt a catch, which he made (he was the one being caught). I was happy for him. I was also happy for myself just for being able to get into the knee hang and then do the back flip dismount (even though I did it wrong, but I imagine it looked cooler that way).NYF and I headed home and kept our eyes open for places with cake. Unfortunately, (and somewhat oddly) most places were closed right up (I suppose it was somewhere between 11:00 p.m. and midnight, but still, what happened to "The city that never sleeps?). Fortunately, my mom had sent a piece of cake with me. I also packed a candle, but no lighter or match. I stuck the candle in the cake anyway and NYF shone his beside lamp on it while singing "Happy Birthday". At the end I blew on the candle and NYF flicked off the light. It was perfect.
Many people kindly sent me birthday greetings through Facebook, text messages and e-mails. I didn't have time to acknowledge them then, so I am thanking you all now. It was a lovely New York birthday.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Downtown Train
I started writing this tonight with full intentions of telling the whole story, but then I got watching TV and chatting with Rob and the story started taking too long to finish. So I am going to have to give this to you in pieces. Like cake. Here is the first piece.
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train?--Tom Waits, Downtown Train
After starting my day with getting on a plane at 7:30 a.m. and shuffling back and forth between gates at either end of a terminal at the Toronto airport, I landed in New York. My first challenge was to buy a metro card and find the M60 bus to take me, my large suitcase and trusty messenger bag to Manhattan. Stepping outside for the first time was surprising. I was wearing my white leather double-breasted coat, a wool scarf and pink cap and found myself feeling overdressed for the balmy temperatures (well, balmy compared to subarctic cold I left in Winnipeg).
My sister texted me.
"What are your first impressions?"
I considered my response carefully and composed this poetic response:
"Pretty Dirty Warm Confusing"
I melted as I stood on the bus that quickly filled up with passengers. I read and re-read my instructions from New York Friend (NYF) and watched for my stop, since the bus driver was pretty much inaudible as he called out the stops.
I found the subway stairs with ease and descended to the world below the streets. I was instantly presented with a fork in my path. Everyone seemed to be heading through the gates to the right, but the odd one went through the gates on the left. There was no sign differentiating the two. So I stopped someone to ask.
"Oh yeah, you gotta go through the gate, man, you gotta go through there and find the platform you need,"
"So I go through those gates over there?" I pointed to the ones of the right.
"Yeah!"
"Thank you." I smiled and proceeded to fumble my way through getting myself and my suitcase through the turnstile. I could not have looked more like a tourist.
I rode the 4 train all the way to Bleeker Street. When I got up to street level it was starting to rain. I stood under a canopy and messaged NYF to let him know I was in his neighbourhood. So I stood there for a bit and watched the city walk by for a bit. Like maybe, 10 minutes. I wasn't sure if NYF was going to come meet me or if I should just keep walking toward his office, but I was tired of standing around so I started moving. We bumped into each other somewhere along Broadway and the next chapter of my adventure began.
We grabbed a pizza at this cute little Italian restaurant and began to catch up. We got into a big conversation about Sesame Street and I ended up singing the Captain Vegetable song. I didn't realize how much I had forgotten about him or remembered incorrectly. It was like we were meeting for the first time. If this is starting to sound like a weird dream, believe me, it is starting to feel like one.
NYF needed to pick up something from Best Buy so we went for a walk down Columbus. I had never seen a Best Buy before in anything but a big box setting. This one had a basement, which we visited by taking the escalator. My footwear of choice, a pair of low-heel boots gave me the first indication of trouble when I slipped down several stairs and nearly took out a middle-aged woman. New York was making a good impression on me, I really wasn't sure that I was making such a great impression on it.
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train?--Tom Waits, Downtown Train
After starting my day with getting on a plane at 7:30 a.m. and shuffling back and forth between gates at either end of a terminal at the Toronto airport, I landed in New York. My first challenge was to buy a metro card and find the M60 bus to take me, my large suitcase and trusty messenger bag to Manhattan. Stepping outside for the first time was surprising. I was wearing my white leather double-breasted coat, a wool scarf and pink cap and found myself feeling overdressed for the balmy temperatures (well, balmy compared to subarctic cold I left in Winnipeg).
My sister texted me.
"What are your first impressions?"
I considered my response carefully and composed this poetic response:
"Pretty Dirty Warm Confusing"
I melted as I stood on the bus that quickly filled up with passengers. I read and re-read my instructions from New York Friend (NYF) and watched for my stop, since the bus driver was pretty much inaudible as he called out the stops.I found the subway stairs with ease and descended to the world below the streets. I was instantly presented with a fork in my path. Everyone seemed to be heading through the gates to the right, but the odd one went through the gates on the left. There was no sign differentiating the two. So I stopped someone to ask.
"Oh yeah, you gotta go through the gate, man, you gotta go through there and find the platform you need,"
"So I go through those gates over there?" I pointed to the ones of the right.
"Yeah!"
"Thank you." I smiled and proceeded to fumble my way through getting myself and my suitcase through the turnstile. I could not have looked more like a tourist.
I rode the 4 train all the way to Bleeker Street. When I got up to street level it was starting to rain. I stood under a canopy and messaged NYF to let him know I was in his neighbourhood. So I stood there for a bit and watched the city walk by for a bit. Like maybe, 10 minutes. I wasn't sure if NYF was going to come meet me or if I should just keep walking toward his office, but I was tired of standing around so I started moving. We bumped into each other somewhere along Broadway and the next chapter of my adventure began.
We grabbed a pizza at this cute little Italian restaurant and began to catch up. We got into a big conversation about Sesame Street and I ended up singing the Captain Vegetable song. I didn't realize how much I had forgotten about him or remembered incorrectly. It was like we were meeting for the first time. If this is starting to sound like a weird dream, believe me, it is starting to feel like one.
NYF needed to pick up something from Best Buy so we went for a walk down Columbus. I had never seen a Best Buy before in anything but a big box setting. This one had a basement, which we visited by taking the escalator. My footwear of choice, a pair of low-heel boots gave me the first indication of trouble when I slipped down several stairs and nearly took out a middle-aged woman. New York was making a good impression on me, I really wasn't sure that I was making such a great impression on it.
Monday, December 08, 2008
If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere--New York, New York
She is home. Bruised, blistered, sore, tired and full of memories. Too much to detail now, but come back later for trip details.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
No sleep till Brooklyn
In about eight hours I will be at the airport on my way to New York.
I'm going to New York.
For my birthday.
And I'm going to swing on a trapeze.
(I thought I should summarize, in case you are a new reader or have not been here in a while.)
My 27th birthday celebrations officially kicked off yesterday when I went to dinner with a friend in town from Vancouver. I ordered the New York Style Pizza. I hope to compare to the authentic stuff later.
Today, my teammates celebrated me with cookies and a card. There was also coincidental cake, and Amara kicked my morning off with a Jelly Belly Juicy Pear jar candle. It's green like the wall in my bedroom and the face plate on my phone and about ten other things I own and love.
New York Friend has suggested we take in a Broadway show or the opera.
"Bring nice clothing," he said when I agreed that it sounded like a good idea. "And (I'm sure you'll be glad to hear me ask) nice shoes."
I was late getting out of the office and I missed my bus home by a New York minute. But I eventually made it to my party with my family--more pizza, the good stuff at Casa Grande.
Back at my parents' place we had Jeannie's cake and I opened gifts. All were lovely, but I must specifically mention the glass shoe my mom and dad gave me. I had seen it in Urban Barn last year and fell in love with it.
"You have the glass slipper, now you just need the prince," my mom said.
"Between my upcoming trip to New York and the year-long vacation from my current job, how can this possibly get better? Should I make a new wish? I am so excited to see what happens next. I hope it involves shoes. Or boys. Or boys with shoes. Oooohh!"
--After a few birthday candles, Jillian gets her wish
Let me just say, bippity boppity boo!
I'm going to New York.
For my birthday.
And I'm going to swing on a trapeze.
(I thought I should summarize, in case you are a new reader or have not been here in a while.)
My 27th birthday celebrations officially kicked off yesterday when I went to dinner with a friend in town from Vancouver. I ordered the New York Style Pizza. I hope to compare to the authentic stuff later.
 |
| From December 3-08 Pre-New York |
New York Friend has suggested we take in a Broadway show or the opera.
"Bring nice clothing," he said when I agreed that it sounded like a good idea. "And (I'm sure you'll be glad to hear me ask) nice shoes."
 |
| From December 3-08 Pre-New York |
Back at my parents' place we had Jeannie's cake and I opened gifts. All were lovely, but I must specifically mention the glass shoe my mom and dad gave me. I had seen it in Urban Barn last year and fell in love with it.
"You have the glass slipper, now you just need the prince," my mom said.
"Between my upcoming trip to New York and the year-long vacation from my current job, how can this possibly get better? Should I make a new wish? I am so excited to see what happens next. I hope it involves shoes. Or boys. Or boys with shoes. Oooohh!"
--After a few birthday candles, Jillian gets her wish
Let me just say, bippity boppity boo!
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