July 02, 2006

Metropolitans

Life, instead of resuming normalcy, has become increasingly chaotic. Friday I snuck out of work before five to find my way to 82nd street to retrieve the keys to our real New York City apartment. Before I go on, I apologize for not filling in the many gaps. Our computer access still fails to stabilize, even at work, which leaves me with little ability to chronicle stories of my first month of New York City residency. For instance, here I sit in a hotel room in Times Square, on internet Craig purchased for us for the span of 24 hours, using the laptop still borrowed from Lauren's boyfriend Jeff. But I will get to all that. Meanwhile, Friday I picked up those keys. Craig called me to let me know he was walking north toward our sublet and to find out, Where was I? I happened to be at Lexington in the upper 80's, on my way back to our sublet with those keys in hand, and a whole rush of raw, pure adrenaline motivating each step. I made it back to the sublet and thus began the manual labor move from one block in the 90's to another. Craig and I left the sublet each lugging as much as physically possible, walked the couple blocks across one avenue to our new home, and arrived at our door only to discover Craig's copy of the keys weren't necessarily functioning to get us into our apartment. In other words, there we stood in the steamy un-airconditioned hallway, several bags and boxes at our feet, and unable to get in. Frustrated and irritated, Craig phoned the management company and they contacted a super who happens to live right inside our building. In the meantime, our time was limited to be out of that sublet: we were down to an hour and a half left before we were to surrender the keys to the front desk. So, despite our discussion earlier that day about how we would wait and see the apartment together, I offered to run back to the sublet to drag another round of belongings to our real place. By the time I returned, of course, Craig had been assisted by the super and was inside the apartment. It didn't really matter - we had work to do, plenty of more trips to make between the two places. I didn't get the opportunity to really enjoy the new, real place until after all rounds were complete, until the sublet was emptied of our stuff, including all that we had carried onto the airplane initially when we moved and all of the five boxes we had had shipped to ourselves there, as well as everything we have purchased (embarrassingly, quite a bit) since moving to New York. Moving, I must admit, is never without unexpected adventure of some variety or another. This particular move just seems to contain more unexpected adventure than most. Anyway, exhausted, muscles groaning in unfamiliar agony of being used after remaining so latent for so long, we hiked up the street to a cute dimly lit Mexican joint called Taco Taco. Without delay, we ordered a pitcher of Sangria and guacamole to be made for us at our table, as well as giant steaming entrees. I'm sure we must have looked just miserably worn out, but we had such a great time sitting there together, drinking our fruity cocktails and eating salty guac and spicy main courses. Each step is one more down, a few more steps to go. Our apartment, still quite empty without the entirety of what we own, is unbelievable. I say that and hope it rings with all the amazement and relief and pleasant swells of surprise I felt when I had the chance to really look around at it. Back when we selected it in mid-May, there was so much haste and confusion. Someone else lived there when we looked at it, and we felt uncomfortable opening closets and cabinets, peeking deeper into corners, so we didn't. So this was our first opportunity, seeing it again six weeks later, to really discover the place that we will call home for however long. And all of the relief I feel is actually fueled by how quirky and adorable and interesting the apartment is, how fitting for us, for our personalities, for our first actual New York living experiences. The exposed brick is perfect - I know we had that in Richmond, too, but - this is exposed New York City brick, see! The kitchen is all less-than-standard in size, its refrigerator several inchers shorter than me! Its stove by no means is full sized. The bathroom has an eccentrically-small window which we learned later in the weekend was more difficult to treat with a pull shade than expected. The second bedroom is so miniature, I still have a hard time terming it a 'bedroom'! I'm completely in love with the place. I have a hard time leaving it just to run errands. But of course, because of a lot of factors of our relocation which I don't wish to rehash here, we're parked presently in a hotel temporarily while we wait for our stored lives to be driven into Manhattan, delivered and unpacked. Actually, the stuff doesn't arrive for about a week and we're only here for a few days. The weekend has hardly felt like a weekend - we spent much of Saturday shopping for apartment accessories: blinds for all windows, new dinner plates and bowls, a new sophisticated shower curtain, stemless wine glasses (all the rage, I love these - thanks to Jeff for the introduction!) and whatever else we felt we needed to accent the place. Saturday night we met Lauren and Jeff at Tokubei for sushi. I'm a sushi lover but quite inexperienced, so Jeff helped me place a decent sushi order, while Lauren and Craig ordered from the hot entree menu and Lauren also ordered a bowl of edamame, which I found to be far more enjoyable than I have imagined edamame to be (I think I will become a regular of the stuff). We had a wonderful evening together. Jeff is extremely interesting and Craig appreciates how different Jeff is from the usual Craig buddy. Lauren, of course, is bellissimo. I adore her. After Tokubei, we walked Lauren and Jeff to see our place, empty as it is. They cooed over it and then we walked to Biddy's, a neighborhood pub with a mostly smart soundtrack and bottomless Jameson (my first actual experience with this, as well, but I think I will stick to red wine and edamame!) Our time spent with those two is indescribable. They are so intelligent, such complete people. I'm so glad they are here! And after a long while at Biddy's we parted ways and Craig and I stood on the platform waiting for the N for an exaggerate amount of time. The subway system slows to a snail crawl after hours. This morning we returned to our apartment to hang blinds and spend some time getting to know the place a little better. We packed bags with work clothes for the week and embarked on the painful commute back to Times Square, and after a nice dinner at the Playwright Tavern down the street, here we are in the dinky hotel room, with purchased air time, the Mets getting spanked by the Yankees in game 3 of the subway series, and man, am I just beat. I can feel my senses numbing to the fog of exhaustion. Tomorrow we are supposed to be off for the Independence Day holiday but we both may work part of the day. And in the evening, we are off to El Barrio for a rooftop barbecue with Lauren and 30 of her closest New York City friends. Craig is responsible for burgers and I may attempt a fancy peach-habanero salsa recipe recently sent to me by a friend, and Tuesday is the 4th, our first 4th of July living in New York (we've visited over the holiday weekend once before, years back). Everything is slowly, slowly coming together - it is simply requiring immeasurable amounts of tolerance and patience that Craig and I were not previously aware we had. That is, if we really have it. It's difficult to tell for sure. But I do know this: we're less than 10 days away from piecing ourselves back together again. Less than 10 days. Ah, how I've anticipated the arrival of that moving truck.*Happy 4th, may it find Americans everywhere celebrating the luxury of being free.

0 Comments:

<< Home