pause
the following entry is so outdated. i started it well over a month ago--labor day weekend i believe. and then september happened, and with it, an unrelenting tidal wave of life in all of its harshest realities along with a suffocating whirlwind of work that left little time to breathe.
exhale.
--
on a meandering stroll one evening this past weekend from the west village to gramercy, i found myself in the midst of a manhattan that one doesn't see very often. it's that one time of the year when half of the city's population has fled to the beach, and while the other half remains to revel in the palpable sense of emptiness in the streets, a wave of fresh-faced students descend upon their dormitory apartments armed with plastic crates from bed bath and beyond and a sophisticated suburban wardrobe filled with vintage t-shirt imitations purchased at mall stores like american eagle and abercrombie & fitch.
just about five years ago to the date, i was one of them. no, i didn't wear fake vintage t-shirts (or many t-shirts at all for that matter) and i wasn't a freshman either, but you get the idea. i was starting my college experience over for the second time, and really, i was starting my life for the second time.
on this particular night, they filled washington square park at an hour when it would typically be rather desolate, clustered in large numbers around street performers who would ordinarily be lucky to have a audience of tourists half the size. the patio outside a New School dorm on 12th street was an equally "happening" scene. clumps of awkward freshmen lined the steps--smoking, storytelling, forcing laughter--as they desperately pretended to convince each other that they had all been best friends since grade school.
it will all change soon. "real" friends will find each other; they always do. they'll gravitate from the front steps to local bars, coffee shops, favorite restaurants. by mid-terms, seasoned students will sigh in frustration as they hurriedly steam roll their way through the maze of tourists clogging the paths in washington square and the streets of soho. mall shopping will become something of a joke as they adapt to the vast originality of new york fashion.
moving to new york is not like moving anywhere else in country. in so many ways, the stereotypical suburbanite needs to almost re-learn how to live. we leave our cars behind in favor of walking and mass transit (it's probably the only place in the country where the bus isn't ghetto). our drawers are overflowing with delivery menus, while our groceries are delivered to our doorsteps and we pay to have our laundry washed and folded while we're at work. our sense of "big and small" completely changes, and dishwashers are considered a luxury amenity. there are always 15 new restaurants to try and another lounge or club enjoying15 minutes in the spotlight. there is always a show to see, an event to go to, and brunch on the weekends. the list goes on.
regardless of where i may be another five years from now (and it's highly likely that i'll still be here), there will always be a before-and-after new york in the timeline of my development. i'm wiser, sharper, meaner, stronger, smarter than the person that arrived in nolita wearing a tommy hilfiger polo and abercrombie jeans that sunday afternoon in 2002. am i better? i guess that's for the critics to decide (and who the fuck are my critics?).
exhale.
--
on a meandering stroll one evening this past weekend from the west village to gramercy, i found myself in the midst of a manhattan that one doesn't see very often. it's that one time of the year when half of the city's population has fled to the beach, and while the other half remains to revel in the palpable sense of emptiness in the streets, a wave of fresh-faced students descend upon their dormitory apartments armed with plastic crates from bed bath and beyond and a sophisticated suburban wardrobe filled with vintage t-shirt imitations purchased at mall stores like american eagle and abercrombie & fitch.
just about five years ago to the date, i was one of them. no, i didn't wear fake vintage t-shirts (or many t-shirts at all for that matter) and i wasn't a freshman either, but you get the idea. i was starting my college experience over for the second time, and really, i was starting my life for the second time.
on this particular night, they filled washington square park at an hour when it would typically be rather desolate, clustered in large numbers around street performers who would ordinarily be lucky to have a audience of tourists half the size. the patio outside a New School dorm on 12th street was an equally "happening" scene. clumps of awkward freshmen lined the steps--smoking, storytelling, forcing laughter--as they desperately pretended to convince each other that they had all been best friends since grade school.
it will all change soon. "real" friends will find each other; they always do. they'll gravitate from the front steps to local bars, coffee shops, favorite restaurants. by mid-terms, seasoned students will sigh in frustration as they hurriedly steam roll their way through the maze of tourists clogging the paths in washington square and the streets of soho. mall shopping will become something of a joke as they adapt to the vast originality of new york fashion.
moving to new york is not like moving anywhere else in country. in so many ways, the stereotypical suburbanite needs to almost re-learn how to live. we leave our cars behind in favor of walking and mass transit (it's probably the only place in the country where the bus isn't ghetto). our drawers are overflowing with delivery menus, while our groceries are delivered to our doorsteps and we pay to have our laundry washed and folded while we're at work. our sense of "big and small" completely changes, and dishwashers are considered a luxury amenity. there are always 15 new restaurants to try and another lounge or club enjoying15 minutes in the spotlight. there is always a show to see, an event to go to, and brunch on the weekends. the list goes on.
regardless of where i may be another five years from now (and it's highly likely that i'll still be here), there will always be a before-and-after new york in the timeline of my development. i'm wiser, sharper, meaner, stronger, smarter than the person that arrived in nolita wearing a tommy hilfiger polo and abercrombie jeans that sunday afternoon in 2002. am i better? i guess that's for the critics to decide (and who the fuck are my critics?).
posted by mark at 12:51 PM
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