30 Common NYC Poses

I just stumbled upon this little New York-inspired GIF and thought I'd share its brilliance with the blogosphere. My favorite poses (and most frequently used) are the following: "Crowded train," "Ew, air conditioner rain," and "I think that was Ryan Gosling." 

GIF by Nathan W. Pyle

Happy Friday, kids. 

A Belated Birthday Post: 24 in NYC

 

 Thesis statement
Broken heels on pavement
Ham for lunch
Still on for weekend brunch?
10 bucks an hour
No need to shower…

Mild December
Church member
Hummus and wine
Dismissing time
TK lists
The drive to persist
Years that are blurring
Nights on a train with people slurring

New place of work
Guys that lurk
Long summer days
Finding the right phrase
August’s electric air
The persistent struggle to pay cab fare

Late nights
Great nights
Sudden morning lights
Rooftops
Mountaintops
Dirty subway stops
Graduation
First vacation
Ongoing narration
Flirtation
Starvation
Absolute liberation
Self-inflicted obligation

Always met with 
 quiet restoration.   

Now here’s to being 24
And knowing there’s still
so much
more. 

The Proposal

I was sitting on the north side of Union Square Park, happily killing time with a book before dinner. The main character was about to learn something important when…

“Hello?” an Asian American, NYU-looking student ducked into my line of vision. We made eye contact as I peered hesitantly over the book.


You think I would know, by now, that eye contact is a death sentence to remaining obscure.

I was required to speak. “Hi,” I said with an overtly awkward face.
“So… I love you.”
I laughed, again, awkwardly.
“No, I love you.”
I look around for a camera, or even a group of laughing friends. None could be spotted.
“Er… ah, did someone dare you to do this?”
“No. I knew when I saw you. I saw your red hair, 
and I knew I loved you.”

I eyed my frizzy curls. When was the last time I’d showered?

“So yeah, I love you.”
He seemed to speak as though he were joking; yet he was relentless in his quest for attention. I couldn’t seem to shake him with any number of coy remarks.

“I’m a man on a mission,” he stated firmly.
Yeah… and I’m a girl with a knife.

Then he smiled lightheartedly and got down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”
“Oh. Oh dear.” Now the surrounding 15 or so people were watching as I calmly closed my book. The main character’s surprising discovery would have to wait until I’d disposed of Improbable Future Husband.

I glanced at the man to my left for moral support. The older Italian gentleman had tan skin and the kind of designer glasses you know cost more than my apartment.
“He-he-he,” he giggled at me.

“Unfortunately, I’m taken,” I say. Two can play at this.
“Oh,” he seemed genuinely surprised. “I see.”
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Well how long have you been dating?”

Persistent sonofa…

“Two years since May,” I shoot back, not batting at eye.
“Are you going to marry him?”
“Probably.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” I say quickly. This conversation had become a long detour from my supposed afternoon plans. The neighboring Italian man begins to flat out laugh. “I am loe-king for da cam-aira,” he chuckles.

“Me too,” I say glancing around, half assuming the lovelorn bachelor’s antics will somehow end up on YouTube.

“Well, you might marry someone else. But I DO love you.”
“Well… I’m sorry I didn’t meet you first?”
“Can I give you my number?”
Sigh. 
“Sure thing.”
“Oh! What’s your name?”
“Uh… Brit.” I couldn’t think on the spot. Obviously my name is Nicole and I’m from Nebraska!
“Is that a fake name?” he asked with a smile.
“Yes. What’s your number?”

He gives me his digits, which have a 718 area code – meaning he probably lives somewhere in the boroughs. Then he makes me label him in my contacts list as “Person I’m Supposed To Marry,” and he’s not content till the name is just so.
“Ok, now call me,” he says.

Blast! I should have known better.
Whatever.
I could probably take this guy (right?), and I could 
definitely block his number.

“So if you ever breakup with your boyfriend… call me?”
“Of course,” I say with a smile. He sauntered off, and I resumed my reading. A few minutes later the Italian stood up to leave. “Watch out fer those hopeless roman-tics,” he wisely suggested as he nodded his farewell.

The next morning, I received a short text message.
“I love you brit,” it said from Improbable Future Husband.

Well… there are worse ways to start your day. 



[Editor's Note: I realize I didn't spell "person" correctly in the above picture, but as I was slightly frazzled, I thought I would leave my grammatical error for effect.]


What A Woman Thinks She Wants

 I find myself wishing I could possess a few luxuries in life. Here is what I imagine myself owning in the future: 

First, I would like a saltshaker. No more pinching sea salt from the palm of my hand. No longer will I accidentally douse my eggs with one, over ambitious shake. I will own a saltshaker, and be content.

Second, I would like an ice maker. No more cracking ice that isn’t yet frozen. No longer will I spill half a gallon of water in the freezer because of one clumsy move. I will own an ice maker, and be content.

Third, I would like counter space. No more making my meals, squished within the confines of a microwave and a dish rack. No longer will eggs roll to their untimely death because room was limited. I will have counter space, and be content.

Fourth, I would like central AC (I know – I’m getting greedy). No more fans blowing sweaty pieces of hair from my forehead. No longer will I toss and turn in the stuffy and constricting night air. I will have central AC, and be content.

Fifth, I would like a job with benefits; an expanding saving’s account, a maid to put away my piles of laundry… and a puppy. A fat, fluffy puppy.

If I had these things, I would be content.

Except, I wouldn’t.

If I had these things, I would not be content.

If I had a job with benefits and a savings account, the thrill of living through my early 20's in New York would quickly diminish. If I had a puppy, I would be relentlessly tied down and begrudge responsibility.

If I had central AC, counter space, or an ice maker, I would be paying more rent and completely oblivious to the fact that pre-made ice is actually something you can take for granted. But if I had a saltshaker? Well, I’ve gone so long without one that I probably wouldn’t think to use it.

I will not be content because of these things.
I do not ever want to be content because of these things.
These are things. These are THINGS. These ARE THINGS.

I want to be content because I tasted every flavor of ice cream,
Because I rode the subway line in its entirety,
Because I found 25 cents and it meant something.

I want to be content because of the way
New York smells some mornings,
Like bread and coffee; like summer and steel.

I want to be content because I walked through a
bookstore as though the novels were my friends,
And they whispered to me their endings,
Quiet and excited; you can hear them speak.

I want to be hopelessly unsatisfied so that there is always, always
something to look forward to -- except in those blissful moments when I am peaceful.

Because I’m just living, and breathing, and being.

***

[Editor’s Note: You may have realized that I did not contradict the maid I would like to have for my laundry.  That’s because I really would like one… no, but like really.]

One Muddy Afternoon

A deer tick was crawling on me as our train pulled into Grand Central Station.

The poor guy – he didn’t realize we’d smash him into an old water bottle when he hopped a ride on my sweatshirt. But as there aren’t very many deer in New York City, his death was imminent.

It was 8:22 in the morning when I tossed that tick-invested water bottle into a trashcan, throwing away the last little bit nature from a weekend excursion. We’d traveled an hour or so upstate for a “mud race,” and while I didn’t participate in the actual obstacle course (lack of money; lack of exercise), I was more than willing for a little camping adventure.

That Saturday, my muddy, smelly, and magnificent cohort traipsed through the woods as I snapped pictures of their efforts. Sun-kissed faces and splattered bodies exploded around the campground, while beer was guzzled and (questionable) meat devoured post-race.

As we sat on the side of hill, chasing the sun for any extra intake of its precious rays, I found myself feeling completely comfortable. We didn’t smell fabulous, nor probably look our best, but there was something incredibly peaceful about sitting in grass and being surrounded by enjoyable company.

(Note: I may not be a city gal at heart. Only oceans or stretching mountains "take my breath away," though a good New York rooftop does moderately accomplish the trick. Thus, sitting in grass is one of my favorite pastimes.)

Of course, that was only the beginning of the night. My extroverted side won out in the end, and I found myself playing beer-induced card games late into the evening with a kid who resembled Harry Potter, a dude who breathed like a pug, and two Long “Guy” landers, amongst other characters including my own friends. It wasn’t exactly peaceful, but just as refreshing.

Then dawn came quite quickly, so we packed our tents and called a cab – which apparently is possible anywhere in New York. He drove us to a train that reminded me of the Hogwarts Express, and we sleepily headed back into the city. I reminisced about the sunny hill and late night card games as Harlem approached.

Ah, the city. We escape from you wholeheartedly, yet always come running back for more. Your heat, your opportunity, your endless instability and stimulation… though maybe half the thrill is leaving you, just to see what’s new upon return.

Speaking of our city arrival, it turns out my deer tick friend wasn’t the only nature that wanted to come home with me. As I unpacked my sleeping bag, a creepy crawler waltzed out and into my apartment, earning a sincere squeal of disgust as I shouted, “Why so many legs?!”

(Note:  I may not be a city gal at heart. But doesn't it just fit so well for now? Give me these people and their stories any day -- except maybe on that one muddy Saturday.)







The List

Ah, the infamous list... When I first got to NYC, I decided to create a bucket list of everything I wanted to partake in before my time here is up. This page is still morphing and completely open to suggestion. If you think of something (activity, museum, restaurant, etc.) I absolutely must divulge into over the next several years, please leave a comment. The words in red have already been done, and the words in white must still be fulfilled. 
Now let the New York adventures begin. 
1) Walk the Brooklyn Bridge
2) Kayak on the Hudson
3) Shop at Beacon's Closet
4) Get rice pudding in SoHo
5) Eat a hotdog at Coney Island
6) Have 2 drinks at Sidewalk Cafe
7) Check out the Mercury Lounge
8) Go to Pianos
9) Eat at Cup Diner and Bar in Astoria
10) Go to Museum of Moving Images
11) Try Mike's Diner and Neptune Diner at 2am
12) Go to the Bohemian Beer Garden
13) Eat a Heeb sandwich at Russ and Daughters
14) Get a slice of pizza at Di Fara, Grimaldi's, Roberta's and the restaurant across from The Spring Lounge. Then decide the best. 
15) See a movie in 3LD
16) Go to Brooklyn Botanical Gardens
17) Order an $8 float at Back Forty
18) Have a $2 PBR at Welcome to the Johnson's
19) Go to a hookah bar on Steinway (Little Egypt)
20) Go up the empire state building
21) Ride the Staten Island Ferry
22) Get a cup of joe at Joe in Soho
23) Go to the Staten Island Botanical Gardens and find the "secret garden."
24) Listen to free music from Juilliard kids
25) Visit the MoMA again
26) Visit the Met
27) Visit the Guggenheim 
28) Go to the Green flea market one Sunday
29) Eat something from Shake Shack 
30) Check out Clothingline and New and Almost New shops
31) Go to the beach in Queens
32) Get two buck corn at Cafe Habana
33) Go to a free play reading
34) See an improv show - free at The Pit
35) Enjoy Jeremy's 32oz. cup of beer in South Seaport
36) Visit Unnamable Books in Brooklyn
37) Go to the Ronnybrook Milk Bar
38) Get free food at Cha An Japanese Tea Room from 5 to 7 on weekdays.
39) See the Cake Boss bakery in Hoboken, NJ
40) Go to the Crocodile Lounge for free pizza with any drink order, any time of the day.
41) Sleep in central park - with people.
42) Visit the Chelsea Market
43) Souths for nachos and Solas for Couch Surfing  
44) Do the High Line train park
45) Go to Katz Deli for a Ruben, even if they're $15.
46) Visit the Brooklyn Brewery
47) See Pace University's downtown center
48) See St. Paul's Church in the financial district. 
49) Sunday dinners at Ferroli's Cafe in Soho
50) Go to a celebrity comedy bio reading in the Upper West Side
51) See the Cloisters in Inwood, the same day as the Met because it comes with the ticket
52) Dress up and see the Halloween Parade
53) Participate in Middle School Pancake Breakfast in NJ
54) See a celebrity 
55) Go to Rudy's Bar for free hotdogs with drink order
56) See the Macy's Day parade - in real life
57) See a free summer movie in Bryant Park
58) Do a brunch at Patsy's in Meatpacking
District. 
59) See the revolving floor of The View on the top floor of the Marriott in Times Square
60) See a Broadway and off-Broadway show
62) See the view of New York from The Top of the Rock.
63) Go to Brooklyn Bowl.
64) Go behind the scenes of a magazine
65) Get on to Roosevelt Island 
66) Spend time in The Strand and Housing Works book stores. 
67) Sing about New York in the street/subway
68) Hear Tim Keller speak
69) Have chocolate at Max Brenner
70) Then have chocolate at Jacques Torres in Brooklyn
71) Get on the roof of your apartment building
72) Take a tour of the Masts Brother Chocolate Factory
72) Go to an author reading at KGB Bar
73) Attend a book signing by someone famous
74) Ride the N train from Astoria-Ditmars all the way to Coney Island.
75) Eat at a restaurant overlooking the Hudson River 
76) Watch the sun rise is the city that never sleeps (after not sleeping of course). 
77) Go to a concert in South Seaport
78)And also one at the Brooklyn Ballroom
79) And then another concert somewhere dirty and gross and unknown.
80) Ride the 6 train when they are turning it around and drive through an old, unused subway station.
81) Go to one of New York's sports arenas.
82) Go to Eataly and enjoy Italian food. 
83) Visit the Grand Central Market
84)While your there, go to Grand Central Oyster Bar.
85) Tribeca Film Festival
86) Brooklyn Cheery Blossom Festival
87) Go to the opening of a movie
88) Do a scavenger hunt through the city.
89) Party at PS 1 during the summer in Queens
90) Do the bread list from NY magazine
91) Try playing pool again. Maybe at Turkey's Nest?
92) See an outdoor movie in Queens Sculpture
93) Go to that bar that was in the movie Rent in LES
94) While you're at it, go to the bar that How I Met Your Mother is based off of in Midtown. 
95) See something at Soho Rep 46
96) Check out the Merchant's House in East Village
97) Go to Astoria's Hell Gate Social for a cult classic film in  the summer
98) Look into Westsider Books, which is open till midnight.
99) Eat for free at Boss Tweed's from 5-7pm Fridays, or the try Brazen Head's bagle brunch deal. 
100) Also try Sip on the Upper West from 5-7pm or 2-4am. Buy a drink, get some tapas. 
101) Try Kossar's bialys
102) Explore LIC more, and look into historical Hunter's Point
103) Check out the art shows at the end of February
104) Go to Otto's Shrunken Head and Union Hall.
105) Have coffee or write in the garden at St. Luke's. 
106) Always remember you're extremely lucky and blessed to be living in New York City. 
Feel free to comment below to add a suggestion. 

The Writings

Publication Contributions
The Huffington Post (New York, NY)
Parents Magazine, Nov. Issue (New York, NY)
Parents Magazine, "The Goody Blog" (New York, NY)
Martha Stewart Living Magazine (New York, NY)
The Daily Press (Newport News, VA)
CNN IReport 
Pictory Online Magazine 
Lifetimes Newspapers (Dublin, Ireland)
The Limelight Arts Magazine (CNU) 
“The Why” (Blogger) 
“Wisdom of Age” Website (Hampton, VA) 

No, I Won't Tell You Where I Live

It’s nearly 1am on the 4th of July. I’m standing in a crowded train, listening to a German man talk to an American guy, who is probably my age or older.  

The American is very polite, but it’s obvious the German is more into the conversation. At Queensboro Plaza the talkative European hops off the train, while me, a girl with a large bag, and the American Boy smile and shake our heads. It’s been a busy day, and New York dwellers often become the entertainment for visitors, but sometimes we still rise to the occasion to speak fondly of our city.

I turn my head slightly to the right. “Hiiiiii,” a man in his late-thirties says, making eye contact that cannot be avoided, even by one of the best gaze dodgers. (Me.)

Egads. I’m trapped. 
“Hi,” I say so briefly that you might not have heard it.
Oh, but he heard it.

“How are you?” he stands up with an eager expression. This is when I realize there is something a little off about this man. I don’t think he would hurt a fly, but you never know what someone is capable of, and I’m in no mood to chat it up after 4th of July festivities.

“Where do live?” he says.
“Around.”
“In Queens?”
“In New York,” I say. The whole train is listening. I feel the stares and baited breath. It’s awkward, but no one knows the best way to interrupt.
“Oh. I see, I see,” he nods vigorously. “Well I live in Queens. I can walk anywhere! I walk to Woodside, to Sunnyside, in Astoria. I walk all the time – I can really walk anywhere,” he says, looking up at me with expectant eyes.

“Impressive,” I say, like you might to a small child. I hate being rude, but I look away and hope he accepts this social cue.

“So where do you live?”
Social cue fail.

“I’m not going to tell you exactly where I live. I live around New York.”
“Oh ok, ok.” Did he get the picture? The American Boy and Bag Girl watch the scenario carefully.
“How old are you?” he asks lightheartedly.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, hiking my book bag up with a free hand. After weighing the options in my head, I look directly at him and say with a not-so-pleasant smile, “I’m probably not going to tell you that either.”

Social cue accepted.
“Oh. Bye!” he says and sits down about three feet from me.

People on the train begin to talk again. “Well, points for trying,” the American Boy leans over and says with a grin. I laugh in response. “Yes, well you were getting chatted up earlier.”

“Hiiiiii,” the awkward man says, standing up again and cutting across our conversation. This time he’s closer but with his back toward me. My ally looks subtly in my direction, and I know he’s going to take one for the team.

“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Do you live around here?”
“Yeah. I do. I like it out in Queens,” American Boy says with more enthusiasm than he should have to muster on a late night subway ride – and for that I was thankful.

But the rest of their tête-à-tête is a blur. While the talkative man’s back is turned, a woman in blue, probably in her late 20s, grabs me carefully by the sleeve. She says nothing but she doesn’t have to. I let her lead me to a seat she’s willingly given up. (This is “girl code” at it’s finest, my friends.)

“Thank you,” I say.
She and her husband smile. “We thought about pretending we knew you earlier,” he says. “But you were answering all the questions well enough.”
“Yeah, we assumed your name was probably Katelyn or something,” Wife chimes in, citing a generic babies-of-the-eighties name.
“Close enough,” I say. “Yeah, thanks so much… just trying to get home, ya’ know?”

They nod as we watch the awkward man chat with American Boy. When the train stops at Broadway, the man departs and everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief.
“We were literally going to follow you home,” Husband says, looking over at his wife. She glances at me. “Yep, we were like ‘alright… if he follows, we follow.’”

I laugh at the odd parade of people that could possibly have followed me back to my apartment. And while I wasn’t terribly worried about my safety, the collective kindness of a subway car was a nod toward the general greatness of human connections.

“The whole train was on your side,” Husband continues. He gestures at a family sitting across from us, who smiles in return. The father has his hand on a stroller, with a little baby girl inside. They don’t speak much English, but basic body language is universal, so I wave and smile back.

“I know, I usually have headphones. They're such a lifesaver,” I say.
Wife nods her head. “Oh yeah, I hate when I don’t have those things.”

Headphones are New York’s Novocain: They’re fabulous for blocking out immense amounts of stimulants and sometimes necessary for peace of mind. But headphones also make you numb or unaware – and that illusive apathy is always the great danger.

“Then again,” I smile, “If I’d been wearing headphones, there never would have been this little moment.” The phrase was said with a slight sarcastic twist and a roll of the eyes… but I meant it.

They laughed in agreement. I thanked them one more time for their help, and then we all walked off the train.

And no one followed me home. 


Yet somehow, in a city with 8 million plus people, this still happens.