So at long last, I finally returned to the Big Apple to get the rest of my stuff. I didn’t get ALL the rest of my stuff, but I made a sizeable dent in the pile so it was a productive trip. Some highlights:
I arrived “home” to find my city as I left it: loud, busy, and sparkling with grime. A few hours later I did my regular trek down Third Avenue to Union Square, where my Fark Party awaited. Great turnout, wonderful people, lots of fun. Although, the last thing I remember from that night was a cute little voice next to me saying, “Hey, do you wanna do shots?” Here are some pictures; I think the camera appeared after the shots disappeared down my throat.
Pics from Starry
Pics from someone else
Pics from Miss Feasance (pw: platkat)
On Saturday night, I watched the most beautiful storm I’ve seen in years from my bedroom window facing the Empire State Building. Thunder, lightning, heavy rain… all the precipitation action that Seattle lacks. I took advantage of New York’s vast delivery options and ordered some lo mein. Nom.
I was supposed to do a photoshoot, but I cancelled it. In addition to splotchy weather, they were doing work on the roof so there was nowhere for me to stand. And I got shy. Yeah, imagine that.
I donated about half of my belongings to the Salvation Army. Most of my donations were clothes with heavy sentimental value and very little practical use whatsover. It’s funny how a collection of t-shirts depicting bands, 5Ks, charity events, and school-sponsored activities are as poignant of a trip down memory lane as a thick, leather-bound photo album. I also parted with a plethora of homemade projects and a few vintage pieces that I’ve had forever and will unlikely wear again. I saved the one-of-a-kinds that fit me and mentally promised myself that despite my abandonment of personal style for the sake of comfort and personal development, I would make a point to wear these clothes at least once this year.
I hauled my donations down to the ground floor on a broken luggage cart and dragged them down the front stairs. I stood around for 10 minutes like an asshole amidst what looked like a pile of garbage waiting for a cab to approach. When one finally came and helped me load all that crap into his car, I informed him that we were going ten blocks and he didn’t even run the meter. (I paid him anyway.)
As I unloaded stuff on the curb, a skinny bum came out of nowhere and asked if I needed help. What he was actually asking was for me to give him some free shit. I didn’t mind doing this, but I was slightly bothered that I had to explain multiple times that most of my clothing was female gender-specific, as I am female. I let him stuff a duffel bag full of towels while I hauled the rest of it into the store. Nice people there. I took my receipt and left feeling strangely unmoved. I was neither relieved to be rid of the burden, nor sad to see my things go. Hm.
I wanted to eat something I wouldn’t normally get in Seattle, so I went to Molly’s, a great pub with excellent burgers. Feeling rather accomplished that afternoon, I started to see the good things I missed about New York. As I walked down Third, excited about the delicious burger I was about to eat, I thought, “This place isn’t so bad. People are decent, it’s not so dirty, there’s always something to do…” And I carried these sentiments with me as I sat down in a booth and waited for my burger. Moments later, two girls about my age walked in and took the booth behind me. One of them started blabbing on and on about how mean she was to some girl the other night. She had a smug air of superiority and the most grating accent I’d heard since I got to New York. She went on about getting into a fight with some guy, breaking some stuff at his house, etc. And then I remembered why I left. I left in part because THESE are the types of women with whom I was expected to eat, shop, work (God forbid I get a decent job!), and basically live alongside. There’s no escaping it. Ninety percent of young New York girls are fucking crazy, and most of them are in my demographic. Thanks for the reminder, ladies.
The Lower East Side
Victor missed the Fark party, so I agreed to meet him at an LES bar. Unfortunately, I did this after he’d been drinking for 5 hours and had no intention of getting as drunk as he was. After drinking a few shots, then mocking my choice of beer (Blue Moon instead of PBR), stealing it, and spilling some on me, he decided he wanted to go see his friend Joe on 60th Street. This involved a 15-minute cab ride during which Victor leaned across my lap, stuck his head out the window, and sang “It’s Business Time!” at the top of his lungs. The cabbie was thrilled and decided to drive us eight blocks past our destination, running the meter the whole time. Hey, you picked up a fare at 2am and you’re not cleaning puke out of your backseat—Don’t be a jerk.
The Upper East Side
Before hitting Joe’s place, we stopped at a convenience store. “Get some really shitty beer!” said Victor, handing me four dollars. I got a 40 of Bud Light and six-pack of Corona, which turned out to be Corona Light that the shady-ass store was probably trying to dump. Assholes.
We got Rickrolled at the checkout and some tipsy funny-haircut hipsters started dancing to it. I made a phone call, as I am wont to do when I get Rickrolled, and I ordered the dancing hipsters to sing. Response: “I don’t know all the words,” followed by an eyeroll. Counter-response: “Why are you dancing like you know it if you can’t even sing the chorus? You suck!”
Kat + a few drinks + hipsters = unabashed insult madness!
Joe’s apartment was nice. Almost as nice as ours—I mean Gus’s… (I’ll touch on that awkwardness a little later.) Joe is a chef and had a large kitchen and dining area. He also had five kinds of dark chocolate that a vendor had sent him to sample. Magnifique! In addition to food, we both like traveling, so I ended up getting his number, at the off-chance we would be in the same place at the same time.
My flight was cancelled due to severe thunderstorms (which lasted all of 20 minutes where I was). I was glad they informed me before I spent 60 dollars to cab it over to JFK, but not happy to find that my earliest alternative involved a connecting flight that would amount to over 11 hours of travel time. I had Jetblue reimburse me so I could buy a cheap ticket on a connecting Delta flight with a later departure time and only 8 hours of travel. A far cry from a 5-hour direct flight, but those are the breaks. Fuck flying and everyone who does it.
With my extra time in NYC, I did the following things:
-Rode the subway
-Stood clear of the closing doors
-Found an awesome wine shop I’ll never visit again
-Returned to Joe’s apartment for a delicious Italian meal
-Discovered new and interesting ways to cram miscellaneous junk into suitcases
-Felt pleased and astonished that the doormen and maintenance people in my building remembered me
-Got ice cream with Drew
-Remembered that Tasti D’Lite is neither tasty nor a delight
With my extra time in NYC, I didn’t do the following things:
-Trash a dressing room at Pookie & Sebastian (my former workplace)
-Go to Union Square (one of my old hangouts)
-Go to Rudy’s (the first runner-up for the Fark party)
-See Ryan Christopher (missed you, dude)
Overall, the trip was successful. I had some fun (highlighted above), but when I wasn’t doing that stuff, I was sorting and packing. Thus, it was somewhat annoying to come back a day late to an office full of people asking me if I “enjoyed my vacation.” I dealt with the hassle of flying clear across the country and back to retrieve some items from a fantastic living space that I once shared with the greatest love of my life. In addition to paring down the unique commodities that characterize my journey through adulthood, I was also tasked with figuring out how to pleasantly relate to the person I once called my one-and-only, all the while knowing that this whole situation could have been avoided if I’d made better decisions a few years ago. Am I being melodramatic? Maybe. This is nothing I’d actually discuss with anyone. But to any motherfucker who calls what I did a vacation, I have some plane tickets and orders to pick up the rest of my stuff for you.