Taking a cue from Erin, I will now do a life update in bullet-points.


-Yesterday I spent the day in Astoria hanging out with some friends: going to breakfast, watching a movie (The Weatherman with Nicholas Cage), and reading. We then all trekked back to Brooklyn where another friend was having a housewarming party. One social interaction per week, I feel, is going to be the trend. New York can be very lonely. I'm still wondering how I'm going to make this life work for me.

-I made it past the first round of Kaplan auditions, and I will soon meet up for a one-on-one interview this week. We shall see how that goes. I really need something to do after work.

-I've been reading a lot more. I get tons of free books from work (one really good perk), and I joined the company book club.

I had a Tintern Abbey morning. After I got up, I lay back down in bed, closed my eyes, and tried to remember the last several years starting with the first year of college. I reimagined my room, the Myers building, the dining halls (long tables of people, loud laughing, Sunday brunch), my walking routes to class, the buses, classes, where everyone lived, classmates, events, constructions, my habits, seasonal changes, the trees, etc. I stirred up those particular sharp feelings. Not bad, but like a familiar smell that never quite points to one thing but opens up a world of memories. At first I was sad because I opened my eyes and felt really alone and without a center in my room. In the process of thinking about people I should reconnect with, however, I realized that I have felt this way several times in my life, especially during moves. When I moved to Atlanta, I felt this way (and thinking back, I remember how wonderful my years in Arizona were), I felt this way when I left Seattle as a child, and I even felt this way during the first year of college after I had left my high school friends and my family in Atlanta.

New York has not quite wowed my yet. I am still in survival mode, still learning a new job, moving from sublet to sublet, still trying to make connections. I'm sure I'll look back on this time of my life with nostalgia, closing my eyes and trying to retrace these sublets, my office, Columbia, New York, first friends, etc.

I think I'll go to the park and try to relax.

At first I heard a couple howling screams and then a loud boom. I thought to myself while I was lying on my airmattress trying to fall asleep, "Am I about to witness my first shooting?" At that moment my air conditioner starts to turn. It sounds louder than normal, fuller somehow. No wait, that is just the subway outside. No wait, it is too loud for the subway. That is a group of people chanting and screaming. I get out of bed and look from the living room windows, which have a view to the street. I see outside an entire Afro-Caribbean neighborhood parading down the street. Chants. Air horns. Ululation. Shrieks. Stamping. Loud drums. Many loud drums. Many many loud drums.

It wasn't violent or out of control. It wasn't long. It came and went in a manner of minutes. Only an occasional shout or horn can now be heard. I was just completely surprised.

Time for bed.

My muscles ache- ach!- and I am walking around my new apartment in a daze. What a day.

Up at 7:30 to finish packing all my stuff, I am shoving random crap into shopping bags and boxes. Amazing how much clutter I allow myself. I divide my things into several trips and leave around 8:30 for the subway, carrying a full suitcase, my air mattress, my bedding, my computer/electronics bag, and a large cloth bag full to the hem with books. A five-block walk and a short subway ride later, I arrive at my new home, pick up my keys, and begin the whole process again. On the second trip I carry another full suitcase, my pillows, my bathroom/extra crap bags, another large cloth bag filled to the hem with books, and my hanging file cube. Aside from a brief spill of my files on the floor of the subway station, the second trip moves without a problem. I am getting exhausted at this point.

When I return to my old sublet, I have two things left: an extra box of heavy crap and my air conditioner packed back inside of its box. I drop off keys, receive my security deposit, and call a car service. I lug these boxes down the three flights of stairs (forgot to mention that before) and onto the street corner. Several minutes later a sedan pulls up, opens its trunk, and then we are on our way. After misunderstanding me and arguing for several moments, the driver heads in the right direction on the right street, which is conveniently blocked by the once-a-year West Indian cultural parade of Brooklyn. This moment: forehead in hands, exasperation.

We find a detour and pull up. I pay. I cross the street and almost collapse under the weight of both boxes. Kind neighbors help me bring everything into the building, and I find myself sliding the boxes along the hallway and into my new place.

I unpack, I make a couple calls from bed, and I eat a big burrito. I fall asleep and have another worry-caused dream in which I imagine that part of the rent includes picking up various packages from around town and deliver them to strange management firms. And now I am awake. I don't want to go out, I don't want to eat dinner; I don't know what to do.

My muscles ache- ach!- and I am walking around my new apartment in a daze. What a day.