If you can read this, you’re spying on me…

24 08 2008

After hopping the East River again, I’ve landed north of 14th Street (which is a first), on the eleventh floor of my brand new dorm. It doesn’t quite feel like home at the moment (I almost sound like Josh). That is, Maria and Emily haven’t moved in yet and I’ve put off unpacking because I’m half sick and half in denial. It’s like my body craftily plotted and enacted its revenge for being forced to work nonstop all summer. As for the view from my huge windows? Not bad – the Met Life Tower surrounded by apartment buildings as far as the eye can see (which, in this case, isn’t very far because several apartment buildings are blocking my view).

According to Wikipedia, it was the tallest buildling in the world from 1909-1913.

According to Wikipedia, the Met Life Tower was the tallest buildling in the world from 1909-1913.

Oh, there’s also a poster in a window across the street that reads: If you can see this, you’re spying on me. It makes me think about how many people could be spying on me right now, what with my blinds open and desk light on, while I awkwardly blow my nose and type this entry. Then again, I’m sure I’d be watching my neighbors if I were staring out my window and someone’s light happened to be on. Voyeurism: every New Yorker’s favorite pastime – it’s like live reality TV!

Anyway, I’m going to bed in a last-ditch attempt to sleep off this sickness. Welcome Week officially starts tomorrow, meaning much of downtown NYC will be aflutter with fresh(men) faces as anticipation floats in the air like allergy-inducing pollen. As a rising junior, my plan consists of the following: avoid thinking about my future career while memorizing these new avenue names (Lexington, Park, Madison, Broadway, 5th) and enjoying the remaining days of summer vacation.

Update: some Spybusters (?) dude posted what I wrote about voyeurism in his security blog as the “Quote of the Day – A New Yorker Ponders…Surveillance.”  Internet microfame, here I come, ha.





Old Places, New Memories

21 06 2008

This week is NYU Gallatin‘s Summer Orientation. As an Orientation Leader, I’m living in my old freshman dorm until Thursday. Flashback, much? My room is a single this time around – a far cry from my low-cost triple freshman year (I lived on the top bunk), and an even farther cry from the loft apartment in Brooklyn which I’m sharing for the summer with 4 close friends (partially pictured below – think the REAL RealWorld Williamsburg). Anyway, I had to turn on my music to kill the silence here and to muffle the creaky/creepy noise coming from what I imagine to be a huge machine/generator somewhere outside my window.

It’s strange to think that two years ago I lived just one floor above where I am now. It still smells the same (in a reassuring way), if that makes any sense. I neither smell the same nor am I the same person. I guess this post has turned into an expression of nostalgia. I mean, it’s the kind of nostalgia I feel when I walk around campus or other areas I know well – the content kind. It’s the sense of familiarity that stems from my countless memories and experiences of a certain place/park/store/building.

I’m suddenly so exhausted from today’s twelve hours of training that I literally can’t keep my eyes open. If I keep writing, I’ll more than likely type something as I’m losing consciousness (which, as I’ve learned several times, reveals awkward things about my subconscious). As Orientation goes on, I’m sure I’ll have more to say – that is, if I’m not even more drained of energy and deprived of sleep. For now, though, I will be crawling into my bed of standard-issue, dingy white sheets. Hot.

(photo taken by Don Xavier Polistico, roommate/bestfriend)





New York State of Mind

19 06 2008

Though I’ve lived in New York City for about two years now, I have only just begun to feel comfortable as “a New Yorker.” Of course, the slow adjustment may be attributed to my incredibly bad sense of direction and my anxiety-inducing fear of getting lost (coupled with the fact that I surround myself with people who know their way around so well that I usually just play follow-the-leader). Nevertheless, NYC seems to cultivate independence sooner or later, in that if you can’t find your way around alone, you will never leave your room (I learned this the hard way, of course). I feel like several things have recently helped build up my sense of independence – that is, my sense of being a New Yorker. Holding down different jobs – interning and becoming social-media-savvy at Undercurrent, hostessing at Sea. Having a boyfriend with a penchant for eating out at a hip, new restaurant every other day (thus taking me all over NYC with him in search of the perfect burger). Living in my first real apartment (i.e. not a dorm) for the summer in Brooklyn. Paying for said apartment. Understanding that the N train runs local on weekends but will otherwise take you to Canal St. instead of Prince St on weekdays. I guess this blog will be my attempt to talk about those experiences while getting myself to write on a regular basis. Bear with me while I get used to the blogosphere. Now to leave you with a picture that suggests I am the complete opposite of an independent New Yorker.

(my parents and I acting tourist-y earlier this year)