just like the shirt says..
you can still click on it to make it bigger.
So last week, I worked in NYC again... SoHo, to be more specific.
I was there when Mr. New York Yankees crashed his airplane into the building. And people keep asking me what the locals' reactions were like... well, here's how it went down.
Tourist: (frenzied) "DUDE, a plane just crashed into a building on the Upper East Side."
Local: (camly) "What kind of plane?"
Tourist: "Dunno. The said it was either a small plane or a helicopter."
Local-: "What kind of building did they crash into?"
Tourist: "They said it was an apartment building!"
Local: "Ok." Walks off, not concerned in the least.
It would appear that the people in New York have thought out terrorism as well or better than the terrorists, because they knew immediately that since it was a small plane and strategically worthless building, that it was either an accident or a loony person who hadn't thought out their plan.
And please, don't think that I'm trying to make light of the lives lost in this tragedy. It was a very unfortunate accident, and it always sucks to hear about people passing in such a way, or any way at all. I'm just trying to make the point that the tourists were running around like it was World War 3, and the locals were all cool as cucumbers.
New York....... hmmmmm......... such personality to that place........ even if it weren't the size that it is, it would still be charming and inviting and repulsive and disgusting all at the same time.
A wierd thing about NYC for me (Manhattan in particular)- it seems that every time I have to go there for work, I'm in a crappy mood. Not that having to go to Manhattan puts me in a crappy mood, but vice versa, I believe.
I have to go to Manhattan every time I get in a grumpy mood... is that Mother Fate taking care of me, or is it a kick in the ribs while I'm down? NYC is, as I mentioned before, all things at all times. It picks me up, it brings me down, and then I drink a lot and sleep. Rinse and repeat.
I had a 6AM flight to LaGuardia, which first and foremost meant that I didn't sleep. I can't go to bed before midnight without the use of heavy sedatives, much less wake up at 4AM, so early fights just mean no sleep for the Teejer....The flight put me into Queens at about 8AM. I took a taxi to my hotel, where I was planning on dropping my bags, napping for half an hour or so, and then going into work.
But it never quite works the way I plan it in NY.... My hotel is the Thirty-Thirty. 30 East 30th Street. As I'm walking in, in my delerious, lack of sleep induced stupor, all I can think about is Thirty-Thirty, dirty dirty... so I start singing to myself out loud, "dirty, dirty.... dirty dirty," followed by, "What y'all really know about the Dirty South" and finally, "They see me rooooolllliiinnn... they hatin..." Oddly enough, none of which really seem out of place to anyone in NYC, despite the fact that I'm a white boy with geeky (but hot!) glasses.
Anyway, I get to the front desk of the place, only to be informed that check in time was 3PM, and there were no rooms clean, nor had there been any early checkouts to that point. BS.
Anyway, I moseyed on down to the closest Starbucks, carefully examining the city for what had changed since I was last there in July, pulled out the trusty Treo, and began writing... and it just kept on coming.
There's something about NYC that pulls my creativity out. Begs me to let it all escape. It's never really good or bad thoughts, just sort melancholy and bittersweet- much like the great city itself. I'm still sorting through and organizing my words from that morning, but rest assured that they will be interesting when I post them up.
The city makes me think of certain people, certain times, certain situations, emotions overwheming... a flood of observations and realizations hit me like the jolt of caffiene from my cafe mocha... I wrote down as many of them as I could.
So high on caffiene, nicotine, and lack of sleep, I headed back to the hotel and begged (in a charming, polite southern way, of course), for a room.... They finally got me in at 10AM or so, which was convienent, because I had just tracked my FedEx packages, and they were delayed. So I couldn't do any work until they arrived that afternoon, anyway.
And it seemed like EVERY DAMN TIME that I was nearly asleep, I was shocked back into reality by random things like the maids yelling down the hall to each other in Spanish- CONSUELOOOO!!- or car alarms, or the stupid phone ringing. To quote Mr. Dave Chappelle, "It was terrible. TERRIBLE!"
So I went into work on approximately 22 minutes of sleep in the prior god only knows how many hours, and busted my ass like there was no tomorrow to get my job finished. All I wanted to do was get back to my hotel to sleep.
I'm gonna leave out the part about the Radio Shack which was "only two blocks away", and getting caught in the rain just because it's a downer. Just know that it happened.
On the way back to the hotel after work, I stopped off at a Deli and picked up some spagetti and meatballs and two super-huge bottles of Guiness Stout for dinner, put it all away like a man on a mission. From God.
I think proceeded to fall asleep in my clothes somewhere around 9PM, and was ecstatic about that fact because I didn't have to be at work until 1PM the next day. And I slept until noon. It felt sooooooo gooood.
Work went smoother than I could have ever imagined, and I was in a superior mood thanks to my 3 gazillion hours of sleep the night before.
I wrapped work up at 6PM or so, went to pick up a few odds and ends (can't give the secret away), then caught a taxi back to LaGuardia. And here I am now.
There was a point to all of this, but I seem to have forgotten it. Oh well. Here's a shot from the window of my hotel room to make up for it.
Definitely not the best shot I've ever taken, but I was half drunk and half asleep when I took it, which I feel allows for some margin of error... The white balance on the camera was waaaay off from the last time I'd used it, but since it made the lights look so much more yellow and eerie, I stuck with it. This shot's nasty, grainy, rough, and a bit blown-out, but I still kinda like it.
Yes, that was pretty much the only thing I took a picture of in NYC this trip. Aside from a cameraphone pic of an add in a taxi for "Bumber Guards."
I'll continue sorting through some of the words I wrote in Manhattan- hopefully I'll have them ready for the next post.
till then, I have a tiny sliver of peace, and I shall sleep now.
-t
So last week, I worked in NYC again... SoHo, to be more specific.
I was there when Mr. New York Yankees crashed his airplane into the building. And people keep asking me what the locals' reactions were like... well, here's how it went down.
Tourist: (frenzied) "DUDE, a plane just crashed into a building on the Upper East Side."
Local: (camly) "What kind of plane?"
Tourist: "Dunno. The said it was either a small plane or a helicopter."
Local-: "What kind of building did they crash into?"
Tourist: "They said it was an apartment building!"
Local: "Ok." Walks off, not concerned in the least.
It would appear that the people in New York have thought out terrorism as well or better than the terrorists, because they knew immediately that since it was a small plane and strategically worthless building, that it was either an accident or a loony person who hadn't thought out their plan.
And please, don't think that I'm trying to make light of the lives lost in this tragedy. It was a very unfortunate accident, and it always sucks to hear about people passing in such a way, or any way at all. I'm just trying to make the point that the tourists were running around like it was World War 3, and the locals were all cool as cucumbers.
New York....... hmmmmm......... such personality to that place........ even if it weren't the size that it is, it would still be charming and inviting and repulsive and disgusting all at the same time.
A wierd thing about NYC for me (Manhattan in particular)- it seems that every time I have to go there for work, I'm in a crappy mood. Not that having to go to Manhattan puts me in a crappy mood, but vice versa, I believe.
I have to go to Manhattan every time I get in a grumpy mood... is that Mother Fate taking care of me, or is it a kick in the ribs while I'm down? NYC is, as I mentioned before, all things at all times. It picks me up, it brings me down, and then I drink a lot and sleep. Rinse and repeat.
I had a 6AM flight to LaGuardia, which first and foremost meant that I didn't sleep. I can't go to bed before midnight without the use of heavy sedatives, much less wake up at 4AM, so early fights just mean no sleep for the Teejer....The flight put me into Queens at about 8AM. I took a taxi to my hotel, where I was planning on dropping my bags, napping for half an hour or so, and then going into work.
But it never quite works the way I plan it in NY.... My hotel is the Thirty-Thirty. 30 East 30th Street. As I'm walking in, in my delerious, lack of sleep induced stupor, all I can think about is Thirty-Thirty, dirty dirty... so I start singing to myself out loud, "dirty, dirty.... dirty dirty," followed by, "What y'all really know about the Dirty South" and finally, "They see me rooooolllliiinnn... they hatin..." Oddly enough, none of which really seem out of place to anyone in NYC, despite the fact that I'm a white boy with geeky (but hot!) glasses.
Anyway, I get to the front desk of the place, only to be informed that check in time was 3PM, and there were no rooms clean, nor had there been any early checkouts to that point. BS.
Anyway, I moseyed on down to the closest Starbucks, carefully examining the city for what had changed since I was last there in July, pulled out the trusty Treo, and began writing... and it just kept on coming.
There's something about NYC that pulls my creativity out. Begs me to let it all escape. It's never really good or bad thoughts, just sort melancholy and bittersweet- much like the great city itself. I'm still sorting through and organizing my words from that morning, but rest assured that they will be interesting when I post them up.
The city makes me think of certain people, certain times, certain situations, emotions overwheming... a flood of observations and realizations hit me like the jolt of caffiene from my cafe mocha... I wrote down as many of them as I could.
So high on caffiene, nicotine, and lack of sleep, I headed back to the hotel and begged (in a charming, polite southern way, of course), for a room.... They finally got me in at 10AM or so, which was convienent, because I had just tracked my FedEx packages, and they were delayed. So I couldn't do any work until they arrived that afternoon, anyway.
And it seemed like EVERY DAMN TIME that I was nearly asleep, I was shocked back into reality by random things like the maids yelling down the hall to each other in Spanish- CONSUELOOOO!!- or car alarms, or the stupid phone ringing. To quote Mr. Dave Chappelle, "It was terrible. TERRIBLE!"
So I went into work on approximately 22 minutes of sleep in the prior god only knows how many hours, and busted my ass like there was no tomorrow to get my job finished. All I wanted to do was get back to my hotel to sleep.
I'm gonna leave out the part about the Radio Shack which was "only two blocks away", and getting caught in the rain just because it's a downer. Just know that it happened.
On the way back to the hotel after work, I stopped off at a Deli and picked up some spagetti and meatballs and two super-huge bottles of Guiness Stout for dinner, put it all away like a man on a mission. From God.
I think proceeded to fall asleep in my clothes somewhere around 9PM, and was ecstatic about that fact because I didn't have to be at work until 1PM the next day. And I slept until noon. It felt sooooooo gooood.
Work went smoother than I could have ever imagined, and I was in a superior mood thanks to my 3 gazillion hours of sleep the night before.
I wrapped work up at 6PM or so, went to pick up a few odds and ends (can't give the secret away), then caught a taxi back to LaGuardia. And here I am now.
There was a point to all of this, but I seem to have forgotten it. Oh well. Here's a shot from the window of my hotel room to make up for it.
Definitely not the best shot I've ever taken, but I was half drunk and half asleep when I took it, which I feel allows for some margin of error... The white balance on the camera was waaaay off from the last time I'd used it, but since it made the lights look so much more yellow and eerie, I stuck with it. This shot's nasty, grainy, rough, and a bit blown-out, but I still kinda like it.
Yes, that was pretty much the only thing I took a picture of in NYC this trip. Aside from a cameraphone pic of an add in a taxi for "Bumber Guards."
I'll continue sorting through some of the words I wrote in Manhattan- hopefully I'll have them ready for the next post.
till then, I have a tiny sliver of peace, and I shall sleep now.
-t
posted by tjayswift at 2:36 AM
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