I have a love/hate relationship with New York. It goes beyond the Red Sox/Yankees. I have been coming here off and on for years for work, so have had my chances to explore and get to know the city bit by bit, although I can’t yet play tour guide here like I can in other cities.
I never thought I could live in New York – too busy, too new and modern, too many skyscrapers, too many Yankees fans. Then when we were living in London and trying to figure out where to move next, Nick determined I am a New York person. I’m always busy and rushing, I have a new love for modern apartments, I’m always taking pictures of all different architecture and I can get really cheap Red S0x apparel in New York (last visit I got an Ortiz shirt for $4.99). He had other reasons too, but I wasn’t really convinced myself.
Then when I visited in March, I was smitten. So many stores that open early and stay open late unlike London, but also so many things in common with London like hearing all the different languages around you, fabulous restaurants and so many cultural things to see and do. I don’t think you could ever get bored here, either.
Road trip day 17 , though, was a different story. While I was enthused to head out into the city yesterday morning (well, afternoon, once my head calmed down), it quickly wore off. People being rude and pushing. The complete lack of signage on the subway – not even telling you what lines are running or when they will be there. Or maybe they say that somewhere, but it must be a secret locals-only location or language. Needless to say, it made my entire day late. (Not that that’s completely unusual for me, but even more so.)
I was late to meet my old high school friend and family for lunch (so good to catch up – can’t wait for LA!), and then late leaving to get ready for the evening festivities, so went to Plan B. Forget the hotel, I went shopping. Bought a new Michael Kors black dress, new heels at Macy’s, new makeup at Benefit and finally, a new bra at Victoria’s Secret. I got ready in Victoria’s Secret’s bathroom, threw on some perfume and lotion on the way through the store and simply stuffed my other stuff in my back pack. Not exactly the purse of choice for an evening out, but I stopped myself from buying a giant new Coach bag, too. I have my limits.
The agenda for the evening was a combined guy/girl pub crawl, with a Southeast Asian theme, since Tamara and Kris are moving to Shanghai. We started at Bia Garden and made our way to a few other places – including two very non-Southeast Asian stops, one at Mikey’s for burgers and capping the evening off at 2 am with tacos. We worked up the appetite dancing at the last official destination, Fat Baby.
It was there that the clock struck midnight and it was my son’s birthday. The first one I’ve ever not spent with him, and not made his cake (will be doing that next weekend when I’m home for his college weekend – can’t not do that!). I left him messages on his phone and facebook, and started to cry as Michael Jackson, one of his favorites, was blasted through the club. Luckily one of my old friends – he must have ESP – called at that precise moment and turned my mood around. (See other blog entry from earlier today for more on Nick and his birthday.)
So today I’m going to give New York another chance. Let’s see how it goes…
Amy's America 