- You've seen Woody Allen. [Note: or substitute whatever celebrity you see around your neighborhood.]
- I haven't seen anyone. But this was the case for me in L.A. too. I chalk it up to tunnel vision.
- You've stolen a cab from someone who needs it more than you do.
- Why, I never! I'm not aggressive enough to ever do this. Guess I'll never be a real New Yorker. (On a side note, I have rarely witnessed this actually happening)
- You've cried on the subway and not given a damn what anyone thinks.
- Guilty. For reasons I won't divulge.
- You've killed a cockroach with your bare hands.
- Ew. I'll never do that. Though I have accidentally stepped on a few.
- You don't pronounce Houston Street like the city in Texas.
- They teach you that on the first day!
- You don't stare when you spot a celebrity.
- I'm from L.A. Case closed.
- You never tell a cab driver where you're going until you're inside the cab.
- This seemed like common sense to me and I've always done that.
- When you've been here at least five years (weeds out the college dilettantes) combined with when you start talking about the thing that used to be on that corner three stores ago.
- Darn, I'm still a college dilettante.
- When you stop going out on Friday nights.
- So true.
- When you start going out on Monday nights.
- So true!
- When you stop giving money to homeless people.
- Never have. (Again, I'm from L.A. 'nuff said.)
- When you know better than to enter an empty subway car.
- Oh boy have I learned this one!
- When you know how to walk around tourists.
- I think my many years walking about a large university campus taught me this.
- You just want SantaCon and the No Pants Ride to end already.
- Whoa, SantaCon?!? I never even heard of that before. Guess I'm not a real New Yorker. And while I've heard of No Pants Ride, I haven't actually been on the subway on No Pants Ride day...
- You can nap on the subway and play it cool when a rat scurries across your face.
- I thought this was a bit exaggerated until I clicked on the link and watched that video. *shudder*
- You don't even notice the pee smell in the subway system anymore.
- Still notice. Darn, guess I'm not a real New Yorker...
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
You Know You're a Real New Yorker When...
The Gothamist posted this today, gathering their criteria from that one episode of How I Met Your Mother and from an NY1 commercial, while adding some of their own. I thought I'd put my comments alongside such criteria to determine whether I've become a real New Yorker yet...
Saturday, February 18, 2012
On Promptness
It may be just me, but I feel like New York is less forgiving of tardiness than L.A.
I noticed this during my first trip to NYC (almost two years ago!) when we got yelled at for being 30 minutes late for a dinner reservation. We told them we were going to be late...it was not a fancy restaurant, and it was a weeknight! Of course, in the beginning I had no sense of space or time and I was perpetually 20 minutes late to wherever I went. Later, I was 20 minutes early to everything. It took a few months but I got it down pretty well now. I know I can get to Times Square in just under half an hour on a weekday. I know I can get to Chelsea in 45 minutes on a weeknight. But once in awhile, especially on weekends, when train service is totally unpredictable (even the most recent episode of 30 Rock had Liz Lemon stuck on a train while the announcer said, "The train will now run express for no reason at all!"), it is hard to get the timing right.
I don't get it. Is it just me, or is blaming your tardiness on the train not a valid excuse? And why not?
In L.A. no one is on time. And you always blame traffic. Or lack of parking. And people shrug it off.
I dunno, I mean, I was always relatively prompt even in L.A. I knew how to account for traffic, for the most part. I mean, sure, you don't know on some days whether that trip from Santa Monica to Torrance is going to take you 20 minutes or 70 minutes. You could leave early to account for traffic and/or lack of parking. And even if you didn't, people were OK with it. Maybe it's because you really don't know when it will take 20 versus 70 minutes. Maybe because in NYC, you DO know that the train is going to be running out of whack on weekends, or past midnight. And you're expected to account for it. Or maybe New Yorkers are just more irritable and impatient. I dunno.
I noticed this during my first trip to NYC (almost two years ago!) when we got yelled at for being 30 minutes late for a dinner reservation. We told them we were going to be late...it was not a fancy restaurant, and it was a weeknight! Of course, in the beginning I had no sense of space or time and I was perpetually 20 minutes late to wherever I went. Later, I was 20 minutes early to everything. It took a few months but I got it down pretty well now. I know I can get to Times Square in just under half an hour on a weekday. I know I can get to Chelsea in 45 minutes on a weeknight. But once in awhile, especially on weekends, when train service is totally unpredictable (even the most recent episode of 30 Rock had Liz Lemon stuck on a train while the announcer said, "The train will now run express for no reason at all!"), it is hard to get the timing right.
I don't get it. Is it just me, or is blaming your tardiness on the train not a valid excuse? And why not?
In L.A. no one is on time. And you always blame traffic. Or lack of parking. And people shrug it off.
I dunno, I mean, I was always relatively prompt even in L.A. I knew how to account for traffic, for the most part. I mean, sure, you don't know on some days whether that trip from Santa Monica to Torrance is going to take you 20 minutes or 70 minutes. You could leave early to account for traffic and/or lack of parking. And even if you didn't, people were OK with it. Maybe it's because you really don't know when it will take 20 versus 70 minutes. Maybe because in NYC, you DO know that the train is going to be running out of whack on weekends, or past midnight. And you're expected to account for it. Or maybe New Yorkers are just more irritable and impatient. I dunno.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
On Becoming a New Yorker
Recently, a friend from L.A. came to visit, and reminded me of all the things I've since become desensitized to. That is, things about New York that I no longer notice and no longer trouble me (I had no idea this was possible!) Well, really, there were two main things: overpriced food, and crowded spaces.
On overpriced food, I've come to not notice that $20 for a tofu rice bowl, or $9 for a sandwich is exorbitant. I've also come to not notice that shelling out $20 at the local corner store for a couple of snacks is ridiculous.
Also didn't think it was possible, but I'm also less sensitive to crowds. A little bumper bump or elbow brush is no longer a big deal. Pushing and shoving my way to get into a) a bar; b) a club; c) the train; d) the bus; e) the bathroom; f) the local corner store; has become totally normal!
Gone are the days of arm's-length (or car's-length) distance that is characteristic of L.A.
Some time about a month ago I was walking at a steady pace up Amsterdam Avenue after having just come out of a Duane Reade. My gaze was fixed on the ground in front of me, slightly ahead and to the right (as most New Yorkers are apt to do). Some poor older woman meekly cried out, "Excuse me..." and I didn't even bat an eyelash. Her cry for help didn't even slow my pace. I just kept walking! It was not conscious on my part! It only dawned on me two seconds later that perhaps someone needed help but by the time I cast my gaze over my shoulder she had already moved on. She didn't appear homeless or on crack, she genuinely seemed lost! At what point I became a callous New Yorker is beyond me.
Fall again:
On overpriced food, I've come to not notice that $20 for a tofu rice bowl, or $9 for a sandwich is exorbitant. I've also come to not notice that shelling out $20 at the local corner store for a couple of snacks is ridiculous.
Also didn't think it was possible, but I'm also less sensitive to crowds. A little bumper bump or elbow brush is no longer a big deal. Pushing and shoving my way to get into a) a bar; b) a club; c) the train; d) the bus; e) the bathroom; f) the local corner store; has become totally normal!
Gone are the days of arm's-length (or car's-length) distance that is characteristic of L.A.
Some time about a month ago I was walking at a steady pace up Amsterdam Avenue after having just come out of a Duane Reade. My gaze was fixed on the ground in front of me, slightly ahead and to the right (as most New Yorkers are apt to do). Some poor older woman meekly cried out, "Excuse me..." and I didn't even bat an eyelash. Her cry for help didn't even slow my pace. I just kept walking! It was not conscious on my part! It only dawned on me two seconds later that perhaps someone needed help but by the time I cast my gaze over my shoulder she had already moved on. She didn't appear homeless or on crack, she genuinely seemed lost! At what point I became a callous New Yorker is beyond me.
Fall again:
Sunday, September 25, 2011
It's like Taiwan weather
Right now it's a bit gloomy and dreary in NYC. According to my weather bug, it's "77 feels like 87" with 78% humidity. Days like these make me think of Taiwan--Taipei specifically. Funny how NYC can remind me more of a city outside of the country than another city inside the U.S. I suppose it's the weather. It's a metropolis. People everywhere. Sounds of traffic and horns. Smells of both food and garbage. Mugginess. Dreariness. (Actually in Taipei, there would be more people, more traffic, more smells, and more humidity. NYC is a desert ghost town in comparison!)
It's not as sad as I make it sound. Well, the lack of sun is a bit sad right now. But the humidity is otherwise not. I have positive associations with Taiwan, after all. I've technically only been to Taiwan six times in my life...the first time I was too young to remember and the last time was over seven years ago. I'm long overdue for another trip.
It's not as sad as I make it sound. Well, the lack of sun is a bit sad right now. But the humidity is otherwise not. I have positive associations with Taiwan, after all. I've technically only been to Taiwan six times in my life...the first time I was too young to remember and the last time was over seven years ago. I'm long overdue for another trip.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Never Forget
All week we've been bombarded by images in the media over the 10-year anniversary of that terrible day. I had watched a few minutes on TV a few days ago, nearly started sobbing, and changed the channel.
I wasn't in New York ten years ago. I didn't know anyone who perished, or even know anyone by second or third degrees. Yet I'll always remember where I was and what I was doing that day, and in the days and weeks that followed. I am still haunted by the images of the destruction, and they are just as upsetting to me now as they were 10 years ago.
Well, I could talk about mourning the lost lives, or even celebrating the heroic moments...the memorials, the dedications, and the reflections. But other people have got that covered.
Well, it's the reflections, or self-reflection that I think about.
I am trying not to be an ageist...but it's something like this that makes me realize that there is a collective experience that my younger friends experienced...differently, shall we say, than I did. In other words, I'm not sure what it would have been like for me to have been in the ninth grade on September 11, 2001. Ninth grade was...a long time ago. September 11 was not.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, at about 7:40 a.m. Pacific Time, I got in my car in Los Angeles, with my ears glued to the news radio, and drove to work at a snail's pace along with everyone else on the 405. At that time, I worked in a tall-ish office building on Wilshire Boulevard, about half a block away from a Federal Building, which was surrounded by the National Guard. No one knew what was going on, and everyone was understandably freaking out. There's something to be said about working in an office building, and doing that every day, M-F, 8-5 grind, that made us relate to the futility of it all. It could happen to us, we thought at the time. What is the point of work?
Prior to that day, I had spent about a year of my life in a crappy relationship, living in a crappy apartment, and working at a dead-end job. For what?
The video clips of mass amounts of white paper floating around the smoldering towers were what I saw on TV a few days ago that nearly made me cry. I thought immediately, of what I thought back then...that at some point, those papers were really important to someone. Someone, or some group of people, worked really hard on those papers. And now, they burst into the sky in a complete disarray, never to be looked at or used again. How important were they now, compared to the human lives that were simultaneously being destroyed?
A week later, on September 18, 2001, I quit my job, moved out of my apartment, and dumped my boyfriend.
I was already going to do the first two, but being reminded of the evanescence of life prompted the latter.
I'm not saying it was easy. We are creatures of habit, and I especially have always been slow to make adjustments to improve my happiness and well-being. Life is short, as the cliche goes. And never was it more blatantly broadcast to us than on that day.
Of course, in the years that followed I managed to settle into uninspiring routines again, and it took until August 2010 before I made any more drastic changes to my life.
So here I am now, in NYC.
Obviously there are a lot of terrible things in this world that we cannot control. But of the things we can, why not? Since there's only one life to live, live it to its fullest, don't settle for less than happy, and do whatever you can to make this world better for everyone and everything in it.
I wasn't in New York ten years ago. I didn't know anyone who perished, or even know anyone by second or third degrees. Yet I'll always remember where I was and what I was doing that day, and in the days and weeks that followed. I am still haunted by the images of the destruction, and they are just as upsetting to me now as they were 10 years ago.
Well, I could talk about mourning the lost lives, or even celebrating the heroic moments...the memorials, the dedications, and the reflections. But other people have got that covered.
Well, it's the reflections, or self-reflection that I think about.
I am trying not to be an ageist...but it's something like this that makes me realize that there is a collective experience that my younger friends experienced...differently, shall we say, than I did. In other words, I'm not sure what it would have been like for me to have been in the ninth grade on September 11, 2001. Ninth grade was...a long time ago. September 11 was not.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, at about 7:40 a.m. Pacific Time, I got in my car in Los Angeles, with my ears glued to the news radio, and drove to work at a snail's pace along with everyone else on the 405. At that time, I worked in a tall-ish office building on Wilshire Boulevard, about half a block away from a Federal Building, which was surrounded by the National Guard. No one knew what was going on, and everyone was understandably freaking out. There's something to be said about working in an office building, and doing that every day, M-F, 8-5 grind, that made us relate to the futility of it all. It could happen to us, we thought at the time. What is the point of work?
Prior to that day, I had spent about a year of my life in a crappy relationship, living in a crappy apartment, and working at a dead-end job. For what?
The video clips of mass amounts of white paper floating around the smoldering towers were what I saw on TV a few days ago that nearly made me cry. I thought immediately, of what I thought back then...that at some point, those papers were really important to someone. Someone, or some group of people, worked really hard on those papers. And now, they burst into the sky in a complete disarray, never to be looked at or used again. How important were they now, compared to the human lives that were simultaneously being destroyed?
A week later, on September 18, 2001, I quit my job, moved out of my apartment, and dumped my boyfriend.
I was already going to do the first two, but being reminded of the evanescence of life prompted the latter.
I'm not saying it was easy. We are creatures of habit, and I especially have always been slow to make adjustments to improve my happiness and well-being. Life is short, as the cliche goes. And never was it more blatantly broadcast to us than on that day.
Of course, in the years that followed I managed to settle into uninspiring routines again, and it took until August 2010 before I made any more drastic changes to my life.
So here I am now, in NYC.
Obviously there are a lot of terrible things in this world that we cannot control. But of the things we can, why not? Since there's only one life to live, live it to its fullest, don't settle for less than happy, and do whatever you can to make this world better for everyone and everything in it.
Monday, August 29, 2011
26 days
My 26 days in Los Angeles (sans 5 days spent in Cabo) went by pretty quickly. This past Thursday was my one-year anniversary of moving to NYC. While I can't yet say anything definitive, some casual observations about which is better, L.A. or NYC, can still be made... (drumroll):
Transportation costs: In the past 26 days I put 900 miles on my car, spent nearly $100 on gasoline, another $21 on an oil change, and roughly $20 on parking. Not to mention wear and tear on my car. I even skimped on going through a car wash to save $15. In comparison? A one-month unlimited Metro card costs $104. NYC FTW. Now I'm thinking the cost of that Metro card isn't that bad after all.
Food: People rave about food in NYC but I have yet to discover any place that has truly amazed me. Sure, I have a couple of favorites already, but I am still struggling to find good Asian foods. Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean foods win in L.A. Other cuisines also win simply for the price. Not only is food in L.A. less expensive, it's also fresher and tastes better year round.
Weather: I think most people would say L.A. wins overall. But I actually found myself, several times, preferring the summer weather in NYC. Except for days of unbearable heat and humidity, I enjoy a pleasant 80 during the day and a pleasant 70 at night. It means I can wear tank tops and shorts all day without having to bring a sweater. Summer nights in L.A. are a bit too chilly for my tastes. However, 26 days and sunny every single day (nary a hurricane in sight)...I think it's a toss up.
Neither wins. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to heading back to NYC. Hopefully the recent hurricane hasn't been too disastrous. Was worried about my little 15th floor room. Am looking forward to lounging on my couch and watching TV (yes, I realize I can do that anywhere in the world, but, this one's my own personal space, for now).
Unlike one year ago, I'm not anxious or apprehensive. I won't feel all out of sorts. However I think I do still feel somewhat disjointed, disconnected. As if I'm split between two coasts. I want to be in both places at the same time. Or at least traverse between the two more frequently. Yet somehow the journey is incredibly long.
ONT to LGA tomorrow!
Transportation costs: In the past 26 days I put 900 miles on my car, spent nearly $100 on gasoline, another $21 on an oil change, and roughly $20 on parking. Not to mention wear and tear on my car. I even skimped on going through a car wash to save $15. In comparison? A one-month unlimited Metro card costs $104. NYC FTW. Now I'm thinking the cost of that Metro card isn't that bad after all.
Food: People rave about food in NYC but I have yet to discover any place that has truly amazed me. Sure, I have a couple of favorites already, but I am still struggling to find good Asian foods. Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean foods win in L.A. Other cuisines also win simply for the price. Not only is food in L.A. less expensive, it's also fresher and tastes better year round.
Weather: I think most people would say L.A. wins overall. But I actually found myself, several times, preferring the summer weather in NYC. Except for days of unbearable heat and humidity, I enjoy a pleasant 80 during the day and a pleasant 70 at night. It means I can wear tank tops and shorts all day without having to bring a sweater. Summer nights in L.A. are a bit too chilly for my tastes. However, 26 days and sunny every single day (nary a hurricane in sight)...I think it's a toss up.
Neither wins. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to heading back to NYC. Hopefully the recent hurricane hasn't been too disastrous. Was worried about my little 15th floor room. Am looking forward to lounging on my couch and watching TV (yes, I realize I can do that anywhere in the world, but, this one's my own personal space, for now).
Unlike one year ago, I'm not anxious or apprehensive. I won't feel all out of sorts. However I think I do still feel somewhat disjointed, disconnected. As if I'm split between two coasts. I want to be in both places at the same time. Or at least traverse between the two more frequently. Yet somehow the journey is incredibly long.
ONT to LGA tomorrow!
Friday, August 19, 2011
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