I can hardly believe that it has already been four weeks since Canavar and I moved to Manhattan and in with my boyfriend. Sometimes I just look around and I am still surprised that we live here together. That I don’t have to spend many hours on busses between Boston and New York City anymore (it also saves quite a bit of money to be honest). That all my things are here now too. I don’t have to pay attention to my boyfriend’s previous roommate (although he is an awesome human!). Our kitchen is big enough for us to cook in. Canavar is always where I am. And sometimes the two of us just lie down on the sofa, take a little nap and watch a little TV. Instead of having to wish my boyfriend goodnight on the phone most nights, I get to fall asleep next to him. It is simply amazing.
Here are a few snippets from myself from these last four weeks, now that I am a Manhattanite.
I was asked by people if I lived in NYC. I am very proud of my look today.
We are soooooo excited: the bathroom window has an inbuilt screen and we look out on a tar roof. The cat can’t look away because it is so interesting to watch the empty roof.
I live in the middle of Manhattan!!! Please come and pinch me!
I went on a big search, know every aisle in Fairway [a supermarket] now and eventually found the dry yeast in the fridge, next to the fresh yeast. What idiot would put it there and not on the bakery ingredients shelf?!
You are a brilliant second can opener! Thank you for having fed starving Canavar, who then just let me sleep.
We adults must stop encouraging little kids for everything they do. There was a jazz duo playing contrabass and saxophone in Central Park. A little boy crowed: “Do you play ‘Baby Shark’?” All grown-ups around cheered him on so that he shouted his question louder and louder and wouldn’t stop. I can think of a dozen better reactions than encouraging this behavior.
I would like to point out that cat sitters in Manhattan are much cheaper than those in Boston. Half price cheaper.
OMG, the cleaner has finished and the apartment is spick and span. Our bathtub is actually white.
A chubby kid just whined at his parents in Central Park: “But I want my iPad!!!” and tried to splash his mother with water from a bottle. She was not amused.
I am improving my puzzling skills: how do I fit my too many clothes into my too tiny closet. [It actually isn’t tiny, I only have too many clothes for it.]
Wow, when I leave the house this “early” [8.50 a.m.], everything is so different. I passed a breakfast food stall with a very long line of people. Just for breakfast!
Apparently one can even learn how to surf at that beach … it is on my list for in the future.
I’ll soon go to Ikea and satisfy my European “I really only want to buy one fitted bed sheet” dream.
I’m on the bus somewhere in Queens and some old men (who speak with a very thick accent) provoked black passengers by calling them n* so often that they wanted to beat the white guys up. I had never experienced something like this and didn’t think it possible. At least not here I guess.
I must stop falling for that “there is a street fair”. I went to the one at Bryant Park and it is only food stalls and selling cheap goods stalls. Basically the same like the fair on Lexington, only bigger and without free pasta.
I think I might be perhaps ready to move to Williamsburg as a compromise in ten to fifteen years. If feels a bit like eating chicken when you actually really just want a steak.