I spent most of yesterday feeling homesick - although not necessarily homesick for home. Just homesick for old lives where I was completely content and spent all my spare time hanging out with really great friends.
Getting people to understand this homesickness is hard. Friends from home always respond by asking why I don't just pack up and head back immediately and friends here don't really get it because they all just love NYC and claim to not imagine living anywhere else.
I don't hate the city, but I also don't love it enough to picture never living elsewhere.
I mentioned this to a friend last night and he has decided it's his job to make me love NYC. He has promised to show me all the best places in the city and the things he's discovered that make this city unique and loveable.
I'll keep you posted on the progress.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Airline aggravation, round 2
My frustration with air travel from my Christmas visit home has barely subsided and I once again find myself frustrated by the airline industry. This morning I started searching for tickets home for my youngest sister's high school graduation. Tickets into Moline are about $185 compared to $389 to fly into Waterloo.
Why is it so freaking expensive to fly into Iowa?! No wonder I never get to go home.
I could fly to a foreign country for less than it costs me to fly within my own country.
There are limited national carriers that fly into Iowa and none of them offer anything direct. This is where I lose time, money, and most often, my patience. All of my horrible airline stories involve a connection issue of some sort and most often O'Hare. So you can see why I don't love that place.
It literally costs me more to fly the 45 minutes from Chicago, Minneapolis, St. Louis, where ever, to Des Moines than it costs me to fly a leg from Boston or NYC to one of those hubs.
Can someone please get Jet Blue or Southwest to fly into Des Moines? I would be eternally grateful.
Why is it so freaking expensive to fly into Iowa?! No wonder I never get to go home.
I could fly to a foreign country for less than it costs me to fly within my own country.
There are limited national carriers that fly into Iowa and none of them offer anything direct. This is where I lose time, money, and most often, my patience. All of my horrible airline stories involve a connection issue of some sort and most often O'Hare. So you can see why I don't love that place.
It literally costs me more to fly the 45 minutes from Chicago, Minneapolis, St. Louis, where ever, to Des Moines than it costs me to fly a leg from Boston or NYC to one of those hubs.
Can someone please get Jet Blue or Southwest to fly into Des Moines? I would be eternally grateful.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Feeling "home" less
Ever since my visit home for the holidays I have been contemplating the meaning of home.
The place where I grew up will always be home, yet I no longer consider it home in the sense that it is where I belong, if that makes any sense.
Flying back into Logan last Christmas I found myself feeling at peace when I saw the Boston skyline. It surprised me to discover that I felt as if I were coming home.
Boston is technically the first city I had lived in without having to be there for some reason. I wasn't living there because I had to be there for school (Although that is why I first moved there. I made a choice to stay there afterward). It had become home to me because I had developed a great circle of friends, my job was there, and in essence, I had created a "home" there.
Flying into LaGuardia this Christmas was weird. I found myself not all that excited to return as I boarded the plane in Illinois and the sight of the city lights below as the plane descended did not give me the same warm feelings the skyline in Boston does when I see it. I know it's probably because I haven't had the time to make NYC a "home" but part of me wonders if it will ever feel like home.
All I know is that I have been gone from my real home long enough that I didn't feel at home in the quite the same way this year and I also didn't feel like I was returning to a "home" in coming back to NYC either.
I just hope that when I decide to return to Boston my "home" there is still there.
The place where I grew up will always be home, yet I no longer consider it home in the sense that it is where I belong, if that makes any sense.
Flying back into Logan last Christmas I found myself feeling at peace when I saw the Boston skyline. It surprised me to discover that I felt as if I were coming home.
Boston is technically the first city I had lived in without having to be there for some reason. I wasn't living there because I had to be there for school (Although that is why I first moved there. I made a choice to stay there afterward). It had become home to me because I had developed a great circle of friends, my job was there, and in essence, I had created a "home" there.
Flying into LaGuardia this Christmas was weird. I found myself not all that excited to return as I boarded the plane in Illinois and the sight of the city lights below as the plane descended did not give me the same warm feelings the skyline in Boston does when I see it. I know it's probably because I haven't had the time to make NYC a "home" but part of me wonders if it will ever feel like home.
All I know is that I have been gone from my real home long enough that I didn't feel at home in the quite the same way this year and I also didn't feel like I was returning to a "home" in coming back to NYC either.
I just hope that when I decide to return to Boston my "home" there is still there.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Welcoming 2009 NYC style
A long time ago I started a little list of things I wanted to accomplish at some point in my life. I get it out every once in awhile and make additions to it. Now I can cross another thing off of it - seeing the ball drop in Times Square on New Years Eve.
I am not a big fan of New Years. It seems everything is usually over hyped and doesn't live up to expectations. But for some reason I have always wanted to spend a New Year's in Times Square. I can remember watching Dick Clark and the countdown on TV and thinking that it looked like so much fun. I hated watching it being replayed for all of us in the Central time zone and knowing that it was not live.
As a resident of NYC I decided this was my year to do it. If not, I never would. I was lucky enough to have some friends crazy enough to want to do it too and we began researching what spending the evening in Times Square would entail. We learned there were no bathrooms and no food vendors, you couldn't mill about, and that backpacks and other large bags were not allowed.
We knew it was going to be cold and tried to create the warmest possible combination of clothing before heading out. I ended up wearing some long underwear I had from my undergrad tailgating days, three shirts, three pairs of socks, and all the winter gear I could possibly fit on. I was sweating on the way out of my apartment but knew it wouldn't last.
We arrived in Times Square around 5 pm and found ourselves stuck in a very large crowd waiting to pass through a security checkpoint. Once we made it through, we were led into one of the "pens" about eight blocks from the ball. (Apparently the people in front must have arrived midday. But as far as I could tell, the only benefit to being closer was being able to actually hear the entertainers - definitely not worth being there for another 4 or 5 hours more.) Each pen contained a few hundred people which helped a bit in keeping us all a bit warmer.
Then the waiting began. We stood around for a few hours trying to ignore cold noses and toes. Around 8 pm my friends and I started to reconsider our decision but we soon decided we had already waited for so long that we had to stay.
Shortly after, the pen in front of us opened up and the police began moving us forward. This wasted some time and also put us in a spot a bit more shielded from the wind and further from the crazy Spanish speakers who kept jumping up and down and singing what I imagined were rowdy soccer songs. The hours passed and the girls and I amused ourselves by recalling crazy high school stories.
Finally we had reached 11:30 and the crowd began to perk up. At 11:58 the countdown began. The ball dropped, everyone cheered, confetti rained down, and fireworks went off. It seemed to be over so quickly after having endured such a long wait.
After taking it in for a few minutes we wanted to beat the rush to the Subway and head back to my warm apartment where our bottles of wine were waiting.
It was something I was glad to experience, but I am also glad to think that I will never do it again.
Happy New Year everyone!
I am not a big fan of New Years. It seems everything is usually over hyped and doesn't live up to expectations. But for some reason I have always wanted to spend a New Year's in Times Square. I can remember watching Dick Clark and the countdown on TV and thinking that it looked like so much fun. I hated watching it being replayed for all of us in the Central time zone and knowing that it was not live.
As a resident of NYC I decided this was my year to do it. If not, I never would. I was lucky enough to have some friends crazy enough to want to do it too and we began researching what spending the evening in Times Square would entail. We learned there were no bathrooms and no food vendors, you couldn't mill about, and that backpacks and other large bags were not allowed.
We knew it was going to be cold and tried to create the warmest possible combination of clothing before heading out. I ended up wearing some long underwear I had from my undergrad tailgating days, three shirts, three pairs of socks, and all the winter gear I could possibly fit on. I was sweating on the way out of my apartment but knew it wouldn't last.
We arrived in Times Square around 5 pm and found ourselves stuck in a very large crowd waiting to pass through a security checkpoint. Once we made it through, we were led into one of the "pens" about eight blocks from the ball. (Apparently the people in front must have arrived midday. But as far as I could tell, the only benefit to being closer was being able to actually hear the entertainers - definitely not worth being there for another 4 or 5 hours more.) Each pen contained a few hundred people which helped a bit in keeping us all a bit warmer.
Then the waiting began. We stood around for a few hours trying to ignore cold noses and toes. Around 8 pm my friends and I started to reconsider our decision but we soon decided we had already waited for so long that we had to stay.
Shortly after, the pen in front of us opened up and the police began moving us forward. This wasted some time and also put us in a spot a bit more shielded from the wind and further from the crazy Spanish speakers who kept jumping up and down and singing what I imagined were rowdy soccer songs. The hours passed and the girls and I amused ourselves by recalling crazy high school stories.
Finally we had reached 11:30 and the crowd began to perk up. At 11:58 the countdown began. The ball dropped, everyone cheered, confetti rained down, and fireworks went off. It seemed to be over so quickly after having endured such a long wait.
After taking it in for a few minutes we wanted to beat the rush to the Subway and head back to my warm apartment where our bottles of wine were waiting.
It was something I was glad to experience, but I am also glad to think that I will never do it again.
Happy New Year everyone!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Home for the Holidays
Living far away from home brings an added dimension to the holidays. Christmas and the time off around it turn into a stressful, sleepless, carefully orchestrated event.
I always try my best to plan my schedule in a way that maximizes my time at home. It's tough though when your friends live all over the state, you have family events and, if you live in a place like Iowa, have to deal with whatever may be thrown at you weather wise in any given winter day.
From the moment I left my apartment for the airport on Sunday morning I tried to mentally prepare myself, but this visit has been particularly trying this year.
In summary:
*United Airlines sucks, my friends and family rock
*Getting wisdom teeth pulled is not on my list of things to ever have to do again
*Having to drive 15 mph home through a snowstorm after having driven through an ice storm earlier in the day really sucks
*Despite my good intentions, I still haven't seen half the people I wanted to while here
*I forgot how FREAKING COLD negative four feels!!
I never thought I would say this, but this year I think I'm ready to go back...and next time, I will only visit for two or three days at Christmas and save my visiting for the summertime.
I always try my best to plan my schedule in a way that maximizes my time at home. It's tough though when your friends live all over the state, you have family events and, if you live in a place like Iowa, have to deal with whatever may be thrown at you weather wise in any given winter day.
From the moment I left my apartment for the airport on Sunday morning I tried to mentally prepare myself, but this visit has been particularly trying this year.
In summary:
*United Airlines sucks, my friends and family rock
*Getting wisdom teeth pulled is not on my list of things to ever have to do again
*Having to drive 15 mph home through a snowstorm after having driven through an ice storm earlier in the day really sucks
*Despite my good intentions, I still haven't seen half the people I wanted to while here
*I forgot how FREAKING COLD negative four feels!!
I never thought I would say this, but this year I think I'm ready to go back...and next time, I will only visit for two or three days at Christmas and save my visiting for the summertime.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Christmas is like crack to me
I can never get enough of it. I love everything about the season and often find myself a little sad once the Christmas music stops and the commercials no longer air.
Growing up my mom never let us celebrate Christmas until after my sister's birthday on December 16th. I am sure this made my sister's day seem more important, but it also made the Christmas season seem much shorter in our house.
So being in NYC at Christmas is like a dream come true for me. I know I mentioned this in a previous blog entry, but seriously, December in the city is the most perfect place to ever get your fix if you are a Christmas junkie like me.
I took advantage of yesterday's beautiful weather to take in some of the sights. Here are a few more pictures:
The famous - and tiny - skating rink in Rockefeller Center
Bryant Park
An amazingly non-crowded section of Fifth Ave.
The only snow I've seen in the city so far
Growing up my mom never let us celebrate Christmas until after my sister's birthday on December 16th. I am sure this made my sister's day seem more important, but it also made the Christmas season seem much shorter in our house.
So being in NYC at Christmas is like a dream come true for me. I know I mentioned this in a previous blog entry, but seriously, December in the city is the most perfect place to ever get your fix if you are a Christmas junkie like me.
I took advantage of yesterday's beautiful weather to take in some of the sights. Here are a few more pictures:
Saturday, December 6, 2008
What I love about NYC
I haven't had a lot of time for extensive exploration of the city yet, but there are two things in NYC that are definitely far superior than Boston already:
1. The Subway
2. Pizza
1. The Subway - Reliable transportation is a necessity for the city that never sleeps. I LOVE the fact that the Subway runs all the time here. In Boston I had to make sure to be at the train station by 12:30 to catch the last T of the night otherwise I would get stuck paying a ridiculously expensive cab fare home. In New York, I am trying to get used to the fact that no one even goes out before 10 and that's just fine because you can leave even the bars that close at 4 am and still hop on the Subway.
The speed of the trains is also impressive after suffering the snail's pace of the Green Line trolleys. I can hop on a train in Brooklyn and make it to the Upper East Side in less time than it took me to get the 8 miles from my house to downtown Boston each morning. (I also happen to live on an express stop here which makes my commute even happier.)
I never think twice about doing something because of the commute, which was a main factor in most of my decisions in Boston. That's why I sadly never got to spend much time in Cambridge even though I lived closer to it than downtown Boston. It took ten minutes to drive to Cambridge and probably a good hour to get there by T.
Making an addition to this entry - I also love the fact that the Subway stops are underground and that most of them are connected by underground passageways. This at least makes the winter a bit more bearable.
2. Pizza - The whole time I lived in Boston I never found very good pizza. Granted, I didn't eat a lot of it either, but most of the stuff I tried was mediocre at best. The famed Upper Crust was acceptable, but I always found myself wishing I were eating pizza from the Other Place (a pizza joint back home) instead.
In NYC there are pizza places everywhere. There are at least four that I know of within walking distance of me. The windows are lined with pies - white pizza, veggie pizza, Sicilian slices, slices made with circles of fresh mozzarella. Slices are cheap and are usually as big as the plate they are served on to make them best eaten using the fold technique. These places typically serve until 3 or 4 am and are always full of people to strike up a conversation with.
1. The Subway
2. Pizza
1. The Subway - Reliable transportation is a necessity for the city that never sleeps. I LOVE the fact that the Subway runs all the time here. In Boston I had to make sure to be at the train station by 12:30 to catch the last T of the night otherwise I would get stuck paying a ridiculously expensive cab fare home. In New York, I am trying to get used to the fact that no one even goes out before 10 and that's just fine because you can leave even the bars that close at 4 am and still hop on the Subway.
The speed of the trains is also impressive after suffering the snail's pace of the Green Line trolleys. I can hop on a train in Brooklyn and make it to the Upper East Side in less time than it took me to get the 8 miles from my house to downtown Boston each morning. (I also happen to live on an express stop here which makes my commute even happier.)
I never think twice about doing something because of the commute, which was a main factor in most of my decisions in Boston. That's why I sadly never got to spend much time in Cambridge even though I lived closer to it than downtown Boston. It took ten minutes to drive to Cambridge and probably a good hour to get there by T.
Making an addition to this entry - I also love the fact that the Subway stops are underground and that most of them are connected by underground passageways. This at least makes the winter a bit more bearable.
2. Pizza - The whole time I lived in Boston I never found very good pizza. Granted, I didn't eat a lot of it either, but most of the stuff I tried was mediocre at best. The famed Upper Crust was acceptable, but I always found myself wishing I were eating pizza from the Other Place (a pizza joint back home) instead.
In NYC there are pizza places everywhere. There are at least four that I know of within walking distance of me. The windows are lined with pies - white pizza, veggie pizza, Sicilian slices, slices made with circles of fresh mozzarella. Slices are cheap and are usually as big as the plate they are served on to make them best eaten using the fold technique. These places typically serve until 3 or 4 am and are always full of people to strike up a conversation with.
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