1) When I lived in Astoria from Feb-Sept of 2006, I also always left work at 5:00 PM sharp. Which means I often caught the same exact subway (because contrary to popular belief, there is technically a subway schedule), because there was this very distinctive chatty announcer on the N/W. I think it actually must be the W train, since the N has gone automated. Anyway, today I was taking the N/W home (which I usually don’t. I’m an R train Astorian now) and heard him and his annoucements. It made me happy.

2) I love my apartment, but I don’t think I’ll love the 30th Avenue area as much as I love Ditmars. I’m over in the Ditmars area right now, posting from Freeze Peach. (Say the name fast, the words blending together. That’s where the name comes from). I love this place, not just because it was my home base before I got internet at my old apartment, but because I remember walking by it when we were going over to check out that apartment that became home for nearly 8 months and thinking how home-y it looked.

3) I don’t remember when Rome went to Hawaii, but when he did, he brought me back a touristy piece of volcano rock that is “good luck” or whatever. I thanked him, and tossed it on my desk. It say on my desk at PLI through the best months of my life. And then I moved to Chicago, and that rock was in storage in NJ, and while my life by no means sucked it’s already recorded here what they were. I found that rock when I moved back from Chicago and I thought “what the hell” and threw it in the inside pocket of the bag I carried everyday.

I got the interview that got me my job 3 days later.
I got my apartment a couple weeks after that.

4) I walk a lot in New York, more naturally then anywhere else in the world. Chicago is not nearly as walkable as New York, especially since I was on the border of the Southside and there was the stigma both not to cross the Midway and the fact that the area between Hyde Park and downtown was not good territory to walk through. Anyway, through this I’ve dropped the pants size I gained whilst a grad student, without even trying

5) I got up the guts to talk to a cute boy at the coffee shop last night. We had a good conversation. He has a girlfriend. OF COURSE. But whatever, he loves Boston and can’t wait to move back there and we all know how I feel about Boston

6) A lot of things at work clicked today. I don’t know why. They just clicked.

7) I had dinner with a few Astorians friends a few nights ago. Dinner was delicious and it was good to see a few Astoria faces. I love that a site like this exists. When I tell my other NYC friends about this, they don’t get it, because it is very rare to know people in your neighborhood. We are an amazing and awesome community.

I just love Queens. I don’t know what it is about this borough that makes me love it so much, or at least, I can’t articulate it, but every neighborhodd I visit here, I love.

9) Since being back, I’ve not been a lot of my favorite places in New York. Goal next week: I’m going to the Strand, see if they have the copies of the Stories of Civilization Series that I covet, and just go to the area, since I’ve not been there in awhile. I don’t neccesarily like the Union Square area, but it reminds me of being a new transplant to the city, and following Charice to Strand way back when

It is so amazingly good to be home. I can’t stop saying that.

There’s this Dar Williams song “Iowa” in which the chorus is “Iowa” all the syllables dragged out” and the way in which the syllables are emphasized means “Astoria” could easily be subsituted. Given that I spent most of my 8th grade year writing parodies/other versions of songs, I could probably come up with something for Astoria

So my new apartment may not be in the Ditmars area of Astoria (one of my favorite place in the world, possibly…) but it’s on a good block just off of 30th Avenue, where laundry is less than a block away and the supermarket it a 3 minute walk, and the apartment is amazing. Hello, BOOK ROOM. Although, not all my books will be there immediately. I have over 2000 books. Moving books is a pain. But I am so happy to be back in Astoria.

On Thursday, I went to the monthly Astorians gathering, and saw some old faces and also got introduced to a bunch of new people, since the Astorians board has exploded in popularity since I left. What was awesome was getting several “oh, you’re back from Chicago?!?. Welcome back!” It’s such a neighborhood here. I love that I have a community to come back to.

When I was looking for apartments the first time, I didn’t have a neighborhood in mind; I simply replied to every Craigslist ad in my price range. That was when I learned that finding an apartment through the room/share section meant going on “roommate interviews” which are way worse than job interviews. It was terrible. When I had to start doing it again this time, I wanted to shoot myself. When I was 22 I could sort of tolerate it, even though almost everyone was older than me, I was used to being around college students and their drama. At 24, having worked a year in NYC, and survived my year at Chicago, I could not do it. I could not suck up to people in hopes of finding a room.

So I posted this ad in the “Housing Wanted” section of Craigslist for a roommate to apartment hunt with, basically saying “I am sick of roommate interview drama. We’ll probably annoy each other sometimes, but lets just be civil adults and find a place.”

And so I met current-roommate, who instinct says I can live with. Seriously, we sat down together, hashed things out, and we’re cool on multiple things. We found an amazing apartment together. Seriously! The place is 10 million times better than my run down apartment on the other end of Astoria. I am going to miss living in the Ditmars area, but I think this neighborhood can feel like home too.

Tonight, I am once again at my parent’s house in Jersey, unearthing my possessions from storage, because I have found permanance. I’m going to be at this apartment for quite awhile. So I can finally pull my books out of my old bookcase, bring my photo albums from under my old bed, take my old nightstand, because it won’t be needed here. I like the fact that this place has long term potential.

So tomorrow! Driving out to Astoria with my dad, with bookcases, and buying him lunch. My dad is awesome and his attitude makes me be unstressed about moving, generally. Then 3 day week (again) due to Jew holidays at work. Then getting furniture delivered, and bringing the rest of the stuff to the apartment next Thursday/Friday.

When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.

A co-worker mentioned once about barely noticing celebrity sighting. I confess, I’ve probably seen, but not spotted, a lot of celebrities, because I am a) pop-culture deprived b) tend to walk with tunnel vision c) am uncertain and generally bad at recognizing people in the first place.

Of course there was the time I ran into Jon Stewart

Apparently, Jill-IAN and I saw George Clooney last spring, as onlookers around us insisted, but we were indifferent and never clarified. I also saw Michelle Williams (the Dawson’s Creek one, not the Destiny Child’s one) but my list is paltry in comparison to most people I know. But honestly, there are very few people I’d actually recognize. Maybe I need to find the next neighbor the L&O franchise films in and try to track down the smokin’ Christopher Meloni

The point of this entry was that I’m eating my lunch at Starbucks, oblivious to my surroundings and in the past hour, apparently Chris Rock has come in (as all the baristas bitched about him not leaving a tip) and so has some Desperate Housewives lady, but I cannot confirm nor deny either as I probably wouldn’t recognize either and my back was turned anyway.

The point is, being pop-culture deprived can also be awesome; for example in my unemployment and boredom, I could pick up any recent TV show (say, Grey’s Anatomy, because I’m heard its good), watch it on DVD from Episode One on, and be completely surprised by the story line, because the only thing I know about Grey’s Anatomy is there is a hot guy on it who is referred to as McDreamy? Or McSteamy? Or maybe that’s just a joke of People magazine?  Whatever it is, you can believe I”m continuing my to do nothing of intellectual merit.

It’s as if I never left, but the scaffolding is different. 

Call me insane, but I love Midtown in the morning. I love seeing commuters and their coffee making their way to work. It’s the commute home that kills me — I hate the stress of trying to get to Port Authority to catch my desired bus. I hate missing that bus more and having to wait the 25 minutes for the next one. Thankfully, I’ll soon be done with commuting from Jersey.

I have some things to report on the job front, but more on that later.

So after discussing the logistics of yet another move (blech) it’s official. I’ll be back in New York/Jersey at the end of June. No, I do not have a job or an apartment. However, last time I decided to move to New York I didn’t have either of those things, and it worked out pretty well. 

It’s a weight off my shoulders to know; that’s one less decision to make. It’s the obvious thing to do really — Chicago has never felt quite right.

Getting that rough draft in really confirmed it for me — I’m almost done with what I came here to do, and now I’m ready to go home. 
And as I learned in the final weeks of my final semester at Skidmore and as I saw again in my last few weeks in the city, a lot can happen in a short period of time, especially when you’re living towards an end. 

Now to catch up my IR reading, write one awesome final draft, and get my ass back for the Second-Great-Job-and-Apartment-Search. Actually, properly speaking its the second great job hunt and the third great apartment hunt. And while I’m sure I’ll be cranky in the process (ug, job hunting. In July.) its going to be worth it.

I wrote a long entry on all the things I missed about New York, specifically about this summer there yesterday, but then deleted it, because I was being unneccesarily maudlin. I realized that “this-time-of-year” is quickly approaching. I don’t know how I feel about that; I don’t see any ‘other shoes’ that are in danger of dropping, but one never knows.

I’m in the middle of writing final papers. I have a lot of words down on the page, but still need to do a lot of editing. In my Machiavelli paper, I think I quote Schmitt and Agamben almost as much as Machiavelli. My liberalism paper is kind of silly, but again, words are on the page, its just a matter of ordering them. I talk about sex a lot. And I’m meeting my goal of turning in 15-20 pages of my thesis next week, because I will graduate in June if it kills me.

As I very crudely put it “An MA in less than nine months, this is way more productive than getting knocked up.”

I miss New York more than words can say right now. Specifically Astoria, the N, the East River, and the stupidly perfect life I threw away for stupid grad school. Which I suppose is kind of bi-polar considering my last entry, but screw U Chicago, screw academia, and screw Carl Schmitt.

I want to be back in Astoria, living mere blocks from the view in my icon. I should not be pathetically crying because I recognize Queens scenery on TV, I should BE there.

it’s quiet now and what it brings
Is everything comes calling back
A brilliant night, I’m still awake
I’d looked ahead, I’m sure I saw you there
You don’t need me to tell you now, that nothing can compare

(“It’s so quiet here…sometimes I get so homesick that I hum the Mr. Softee song.”
-Alex Cabot, Law & Order SVU)

You might have laughed if I told you
You might have hidden your frown
You might have succeeded in changing me
I might have been turned around
It’s easier to leave than to be left behind
Leaving was never my pride
Leaving New York, never easy
I saw the light fading out

(Dear New York,

I miss you very, very, very much. I dislike Chicago because it is not you. I miss the cacophony of Midtown when I stepped out of the subway station at 55th & 7th every morning. I miss the sunsets over the Tri-borough Bridge, viewed from the N-train. I miss Astoria – Hyde Park has nothing on it. I miss moments with all my friends and co-workers and acquintences. I miss my apartment, and my walk to work, and my life there. I miss who you made me.

Now life is sweet and what it brings
I’ve tried to take
A lonlieness, it wears me out
It lies in wait
I might’ve lived my live if a dream, but I swear
This is real

I miss being happier than I ever imagined possible. I miss the disbelief that my life was possibly that good. I miss the ridiculous excitement that overtook me whenever I re-remembered that this was real.

Memory fuses and shatters like glass
Mercurial future, forget the past
But it’s you, it’s what I feel

I miss familiarity, and comfort, and love. I just miss you.

Love,
Rachel )  

Leaving New York, never easy (it’s pulling me apart)
I saw the lights fading out
You find it in your heart, change…
I told you, forever
I love you forever

I told you, forever
You never, you never
You told me forever 

Leaving New York never easy (it’s pulling me apart)
I saw the light fading out (change)
-R.E.M

I have a million last minute things to do before I leave in a few hours.

I just wanted to record one more moment from the futon in my living room, looking out over 21st Avenue.

I know this is the right decision. A scholarship to University of Chicago. So many opportunities will come from this.

But sometimes, doing the right thing feels really awful.

I still want to write all about Saturday night, but this is what’s on my mind, so it gets preference.

Cary called me around 8:30 “Are you done packing?” she asked.
“Um…somewhat…,” I replied
“Well are you too busy to have coffee with us?”
“Absolutely not, what time?”

So Cary, Dayna, and I met up at Freeze Peach and then migrated to Igloo for food. We chatted about the board, of course, because you can’t get together with Astorians without discussing “the Board.” (The whole “I feel like I’m dating 35 people” thing is definitely true. It’s like so many of us hang out, on an increasingly regular frequence, but it’s always in a group, so there are a lot of mildly awkward one on one interactions. It’s a bizarre development of community) and AG, and men, of course.

I’ve never really had groups of girlfriends before, and that’s what was really developing for me among the Astoria girls…I’m going to miss them; we’ve had a lot of fun together.

So we hugged Cary good-bye and Dayna and I headed home (we live three blocks from each other) and we ran into Josh. I am really, really going to miss living somewhere where I am constantly running into people I know. I love the walks up 21st Avenue with Dayna — we are always “getting home safe” companions, and she remarked that she loves the walks home because it’s so peaceful, and I said I would miss the independence of being able to come home alone and not worry. Southside Chicago may not allow that.

I’m going to miss Astoria, and Astorians, and Astoria girls. This is the most amazing community ever.

When I was counting down the days left at Skidmore, I had plenty of down time to write. Now I have even more to write about and no time to write.

Off the top of my head, without eloquence

My Astorians party on Friday was relatively low-key. We took over Hell Gate’s Social again, brought in lots of food and ordered pizza (I will miss New York pizza.) A lot of people showed up; I felt very popular. Sooz made me an awesome card, the front of which is laminated google-map directions from Hyde Park to Astoria. I got an Astoria Hell Gates shirt — I love that bridge. We took lots of pictures. There was much girl talk among the usual Astoria ladies. I am going to miss this community more than I can put into words. It’s been an amazing experience. Ok Rousseau I GET IT.

Last night was PLI people and random people and O-town people and people I hadn’t seen in a really long time, and at one point Jill-IAN was like “Jesus Neumsy, who ARE all these people?” because I had been fretting about people not showing up and looking like a loser. Everyone was buying me drinks, and I got to talk to everyone and didn’t take enough pictures, and I think I managed to not be too emotional, although I think I hugged everyone about 19 times. I will write about it later.

I have lots of boxes. My head is swimming.

I never, in my whole life, thought I would be the type of person who warranted throwing two separate going away parties. At one point last night I pulled Jill-IAN and Drew aside, and was just like “You guys have been one of the best things about New York and I love you a lot.” 

I cannot put this into words. This is so freaking cliched, but I seriously don’t know how to say all this. I am basically overcome with emotion.

So Internet is completely down at work, leaving me with NOTHING to do. I’m effectively so bored that time is standing still.

But it’s funny; I would do nearly anything to be able to stop time this summer; there have been so many right nows, todays, right this seconds. There has been quiet contentment and uproarious laughter, and it’s all so lovely, I want to hold on to it, and stand in the light as long as possible.

It’s like this: now is the most contented and comfortable in my own skin I think I’ve ever been.

I am not racked with anxiety. I am not crying spontaneously, or without reason. I am not struggling (Boo to thee who say you cannot do NYC on a budget.) I am not longing. I am not unhappy. You may say this is a lot of “nots” – what are you, anyway? — but I tell you this list of negatives is incredibly significant and positive, despite it defining me in negative space.

So I sit here, in this little den I’ve created of comfort and stability, and I look ahead. I see the weekend; an outing to Culture Club with the girls, going to Coney Island with Jill & Drew, another Sunday in Astoria. I see next week, another set of Astoria-centric outings.

I see the next month of cramming in last minutes and last moments. I see a list of plans and people to see. I see good-byes that I’m refusing to think about right now. I see a life that it full of…well, life.

And then, that’s it, I look ahead, and there is leaving this den. There is packing up my apartment. There is driving to Chicago. There is starting school. There is a life that is just plain different from the one I’m living right this second.

And while it is scary, I am not paralyzed. I’m excited about the new things life will bring in the next year, even if some of them will bring some pain, too.

At first I was scared stiff by the thought of my life changing rhythms. Did you know I burst into tears when I found out I got into U Chicago and insisted I didn’t want to go? I didn’t want to leave the cacoon of comfort New York was becoming. It was at the corner of one phrase and another, a final push to learn to let go.

Now I’m generally sunny with occaisonal bouts of doubt. Only occaisonal ones, that stay for a beat and then move on.

So, you see, I think I know how this works. Change is good. My mind knows this now. And I am not collapsing into fits of anxiety, and I am not succumbing to fear. I am embracing change and looking forward to it.

I just wish time would tick by a bit more slowly this summer, that’s all. I wish these long hot days of summer would become just a tiny bit slower. I wish it would all stop flying by so fast.

And so the internet goes back up, and there is distraction and things to procrastinate my assigned data entry again. But that hour ticked by, no joke. So maybe someone is making time go by a little slower for me. Maybe.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

My city shines at dusk. Leaving a bar, hugs exchanged with acquaintances-that-are-becoming-friends, phone calls promised, and then I turn and stride off in the air that’s cooled just enough to not be uncomfortable. Walking to the subway after an evening out carries a sort of exhilaration. I am alone in my thoughts and more at ease without having to be aware of my destination. These are some of my favorite New York City moments; my walks homeward are when I savor my independence, my competence, and my daily triumphs in the most mundane of places. I smile at my surroundings, thankful for all the things this city shows me.

Last night I walked down by Astoria Park and sat on one of the benches along the East River. There are no words for how much I love Astoria. I love Hell Gate’s Bridge, love seeing it when I walk up Ditmars Blvd towards my apartment. And at night, when the Triborough is lit up, I can see it from my living room window. Technically my Jersey City view of the Empire State Building would be more sought after, but that didn’t feel like home and this does.

Everyone keeps telling me that I can always come back, that my program in Chicago is only for a year, but I don’t know. New York City schools don’t have what I’m looking for except for location, and if I decide to get my PhD, that isn’t enough. This has been an all-too-brief love affair; I can’t believe I’m leaving in less than three months.

This has never happened to me; I’ve never loved a place I’ve been (physically and mentally and metaphorically) so much, yet been able to be so excited about where I’m going. There are still moments where I’m just involved in something else entirely and then it’s like “I’m going to U Chicago!!!” and I’m all giddy about it. Because it’s U Chicago!

And as good as these past two months have been, I have to remind myself why getting into U Chicago, and visiting there, and knowing it was right was such a relief: I needed to get out of New York. I needed a way out. I can’t quite explain it; I guess it was situational. But I knew I had to get away, and there have still been quite a few moments where it’s like “Thank god I have a way out.” And I think life is pretty good when my “escape” is the third best school in the country for political theory. (Yeah, I’m totally bragging about that little statistic.) So maybe the reason I’ve been able to relax so much is because I know I’m leaving. I know that no matter what happens, good or bad, I’m going to U Chicago.

I don’t know. Everything happens for a reason and I feel like I’ve been drawn to U Chicago by, as silly as it sounds, fate. And it was also way too much of a coincidence that the week I got my letter The Economist has a special feature article on “Chicago.” (Last year’s was on New York. Maybe I should choose my next city by the Economist report.)

So while I’m still not sure how I’m going to choose what books to bring, I’m definitely getting excited about Chicago.

I didn’t go to work yesterday. After sleeping from 8pm-midnight, I was awake until the 6 AM; it was around 4:30 that I decided to call in. Smart decision.

My weekend was relatively uneventful, save my nearly two hour commute home on Friday evening. The train got to 59^th & Lexington when they announced there was no service into Queens, and the N/W wasn’t going to be running downtown. My first thought was to backtrack to Grand Central via the 6 train and then take the 7, but there were swarms and swarms of people. I said screw it and walked over the Queensboro Bridge. It was very muggy and disgusting. I got to Queensboro Plaza with the intention of taking the N/W home. The station was a mess; there was no service in either direction, no one seemed to know what was going on, and it was horribly humid. After 15 minutes of waiting, I gave up and starting walking. It started to pour by the time I hit Broadway.

By the time I got home I was soaked. Total distance walked, just under 5 miles.

So now it’s already Tuesday, and I’m not working on Friday, AND I’m taking a half day on Thursday, so yay for a super short week. While I was walking to work I had a whole list of things that I wanted to write about but I don’t remember them now. Except that whenever I pass an Ann Taylor store I drool over the clothes in the window and have to remind myself that a) most of their clothes are designed for woman with no hips and thus they don’t look quite right on me b) I really can’t afford their clothes and c) I’m going to be a student in 3 months, which means I can wear the same pair of jeans for a week, so I really don’t need any more clothes that make me look all refined and pulled together.

Speaking of becoming a student, I got my U Chicago Student ID yesterday. I also got the syllabus for the one core course everyone in my program has to take and the reading list is scary. However, I am thankful that I took that random Sociology class my sophomore year, because we read a lot of the stuff on the list, including The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, so that makes me feel a tiny bit less intimidated.