Rev Your Minivan

I live in the fashion capital of the world, yet I found myself shopping at the local mall for a wedding dress (on the day of the wedding.) I ran into two of my best friends there (Alissa and Gretch), which was delightful and also very fitting that all three of us would be racing around Macy's at 11am.

My spatial reasoning skills have gotten totally skewed - I can understand city blocks perfectly, and how to walk places and/or take the train. But let me loose in a giant mall, and I'm clueless. It feels exactly like a (team Edward) corn maze.

At one point, my mom and I lost each other and she had to tell one of the sales clerks what I look like. I can only imagine the conversation:

"Excuse me, but I can't find my daughter."

"Oh no! What does she look like?"

"She has a blond ponytail and a romper. She just woke up from a nap, and is probably playing dress up somewhere."

"How old is she?"

"....25."

Lesson #31 in moving to a big city (and when visiting much smaller ones): Hold on to your spatial reasoning skills and figure out how to make sense of non cities, especially in exotic locations like suburban malls.

Giant megastores (Costo, Meijer) are basically their own cities with a totally different set up, ones in which I've forgotten how to navigate. My advice is to try to imagine the mall as a series of city grids and neighborhoods: the Panda Express and food court as Chinatown, which borders on Little Italy, the series of discount leather stores. Need to get home? Simply hop on the nearest 6 train stop, the closest mall exit where you've parked your car. (I won't even tackle how much I don't know how to drive anymore - I can only handle trying to not get lost inside the 'burbs.)

This works within store perimeters as well; I have to make mental notes of where I am, because there simply aren't any identifiers. I've become so accustomed to street intersections guiding me through the city, that when I'm in a large space with no wifi phone connection, I'm literally lost. Therefore, a few mental notes will take you a long way (as in: Cathlin, you walked in by the swimsuit collection. Remember how much you hate shopping for suits? Then remember that's where you parked.)

My mom and I did have a blissful reunion, but I wasn't allowed any dessert due to my misbehavior. Once I master mapping out mental grids, I'll be eating vegan cake by the pound.

Celebrity

You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends

when you pass them at night under the silvery, silvery citibank lights

arm in arm in arm and eyes and eyes glazing under

oh you wouldn’t want an angel watching over you

surprise, surprise they wouldn’t wannna watch

another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults

- Mistaken for Strangers, the National

According to this site, my closest celeb match is either Sarah Michelle Gellar or Scarlett Johannson (oh dear God, one can dream). Their database must be really small, because in real life I'm more accustomed to comparisons with less attractive, but quirky celebs like that girl from the Ting Tings or Peggy from Mad Men. I'm totally cool with that, as I'd rather be thought of as quirkiness tends to persist, whereas girlish good looks fade. Also, I'd gladly exchange closets with either of them.

You can imagine my surprise when Thursday, a man on the elevator mistook me for Lindsay Lohan, the prison bound heroine. After getting a better look at me, and my shocked face, he realized I wasn't the lovable hellion, but told me about his mistake anyway. I immediately realized I need to lay off the drugs, and that 'heroin chic' is so Kate Moss circa '95.

All joking aside, this incident got me thinking about the notion of celebrity, and how much I would hate to be one. Just the one person giving me extra attention made me want to crawl into a hole.

Luckily, NYC isn't a place that gives much heed to celebrities (besides my elevator friend, an anomaly of sorts).

Lesson #30: If you're into celebrities, you probably shouldn't move here. And if you do, you should learn to play it cool like (almost) all of us. Seriously, I don't think New Yorkers care about seeing celebs - maybe because our egos get in the way, or maybe our hearts are two sizes too small.

The plus side is that celebrities probably view this city as an oasis, as they can largely go unnoticed. In LA, people visit looking explicitly for celebs, like a zoo for the beautiful and exotic. It seems that the really interesting ones always settle for the east coast anyway (Woody Allen, Heath Ledger - my old neighbor, Lou Reed)

Now please indulge me for a minute - even though I'd never say anything or react to seeing them, I still would like to gush about a few of the celebrities I've seen. I've only lived here a few months, so give me a break (not like an acting break or anything. Unless you're looking for someone that does a mean Moonwalk, because I can easily fit that bill.)

-Ed Westwick at LGA, while he was arguing with Jessica Szohr (he also had on purple pants, which he pulled off nicely)

-Willem Dafoe in the West village, while I was walking to see Fantastic Mr Fox (he's in it)

-Kyra Sedgwick, in an elevator, while our team discussed celebrity diets. She laughed quietly to herself while the rest of us were mortified.

-Molly Shannon in Chelsea Market, just being Molly Shannon

-Parker Posey at our cafeteria, drinking ginger ale

Those were some of the more interesting "run ins" I've had, if you can call them that. Which you really can't, since I acted the same way around them as I would any others. But inside, I had a few internal battles. Wouldn't Molly Shannon love to know how amazing 'Year of the Dog' was?? Couldn't I discuss Ed Westwick's accent with, well, HIM??

No, because now I understand how accosted celebs must feel and wouldn't want to put them through that. But seriously, if I ever see Craig Finn sitting alone at the bar, I'm buying both of us shots. I'll just pretend I don't know who he is and am simply into middle aged academic hipsters. OK, back to reality - this In Touch isn't going to read itself.

Good Morning! and Bon Appetit!

Dab a little blush here, ma chère, a side of pronunciation with that Café Noir and croissant, and my day has officially begun. My morning routine now includes approximately 30 minutes of Rosetta stone language immersion, interspersed with Coffee Break Spanish/French when I have less time.

I'veI hooked my shower curtains together while taking a cab. I've studied GRE vocab while walking to lunch. I've plucked my eyebrows while riding the A train home. (OK, that last one isn't true...but I've seen this more than once. There's an apparent pandemic of people doing things in public that NO ONE needs to see).

Now that I think about it, maybe I've just deeply misunderstood the crazy people mentioned in previous posts....since I probably look like one about 50% of the time. It's okay, though, because the multi-tasking has given me even more time to further the crazy vibe into NYC.

Lesson #29: Become a master multi tasker, and basically create time for things. Just don't spend so much time strategizing, unless of course you're also listening to the new Roots album and furiously cooking dinner at the same time (which I highly recommend).

For me, the reason I'm able to multi-task effectively is that I choose one mindless, automatic function and pair it with something that requires some mental acuity. It's kind of like pairing wine with food. Some good pairings thus far: doing dishes and listening to NPR's All Songs Considered. Making to-do lists while trying to stay upright on the train. Blogging and reflecting on my time in NY thus far (har har), with a large glass of wine.

Of course, on the flip side, it feels unbelievable to do just one thing, and do it well. As I've mentioned, I often find chores to be therapeutic, especially when I allow my brain to wonder anywhere. Not to mention, to really learn something or do something well, full attention is absolutely necessary for hours on end! This harmonica isn't going to master itself.

But honestly, multi-tasking is inevitable and necessary to survival here. Just please, don't let me catch you clipping your toenails on the subway - wouldn't you rather have unruly nails than be subject to the wrath of 50 pissed off New Yorkers?

Don't Sweat It.

But if (and when) you do, you're not alone.

There's something about New York that inspires so much beauty, art, music, philosophy, and all of these things take passion. In the summer, that much passion conjures a sweaty demographic, moving madly through the city, glistening and glowing. Not exactly a pregnant glow, or this kind either, but a glow that reflects the haziness of summer with 8 million best friends, living in close proximity.

Lesson #28: Embrace the sweat: a thin film of it will cover you at all times during summer, so learn to find it sexy on yourself, and others. Accept that you will often feel like a wilting flower, cowering from the sun with your fellow perennials.

Once you get past the fact that you'll always be a little sweaty in the summer, you can learn to look forward to things like taking the train (when the AC is actually working, that is). It's almost painful how cold it can get, but I love it - and as I've said before, moderation is overrated and ultimately kind of lame.

So wipe your brow, roll up your sleeves, don't worry about that glisten because you don't have time for worry, you've got a lot of living to do. Besides, people find it pretty sexy - not that you have a choice.

I have always depended on the kindness of hot, sweaty strangers.

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen

....is not a problem for me, now that I live alone.



In fact, I've had quite the opposite problem of too many cooks. This weekend marked the momentous occasion of the first time I've cooked a meal since moving back in September. You didn't read that incorrectly. The proverbial first time.

Sure, I'd prepared meals that didn't require cooking, but I literally went over 6 months without cooking a true meal. And it felt amazing when I finally did. Cathartic, even (more of a first meal feeling than last supper, though).

Lesson #27 when moving to a big city: Cooking can be infinitely more satisfying than eating at the countless delicious restaurants this city offers, especially after such a long break. Take a look here for great documentation of this fact. This is a bit ambitious, with the authors living in Brooklyn off $30 in groceries between the two (this is also not a typo).

Pictured below is the simple, yet utterly delicious, meal I prepared. I still don't have many cooking ingredients, or certain utensils (ever tried draining pasta via one slotted spoon? Quite time consuming.) I'm telling you, though, this was so much more satisfying than any other meal I could've possibly found in the city, so I would highly encourage you to not take a 6 month hiatus from cooking. (however, I also have to point out that the food I eat at work makes dining out difficult, because it's so unbelievably good.)

penne with olives, garlic, oil, red pepper and arugula

But until I learn how to make a decent non dairy based frozen dessert, I'm sticking with Lula's Apothecary. Self control is a limited natural resource!

A Slight Discomfort

The other night, I had the privilege of seeing the Hold Steady two times in a night. Life was good. Or, rather, incredible.

The only issue was that I got really into the show, and somehow my gum ended up in my hair (hey, it happens to the best of us). I was able to ascertain that it was indeed my gum, and not a random concert-goer's. I mean, I love other Hold Steady fans...but I have to draw the line somewhere. I noticed the gum while it was still freshly fused with my hair (which had also been misted with beer and decorated with glitter, naturally). My immediate priority was to watch the show instead of tend to my hair, which resulted in a tangled mess.

By the time the second show ended, I was deliriously happy, but also in a bit of a predicament. There I was, in Williamsburg at 2am, gum in my hair and wandering around like a lost puppy. Luckily, my friend Ryan was with me and talked some sense into me. I was ready to find the nearest pair of scissors and end it (the gum in hair dilemma, of course).

Ryan came through as he always does, with two simple words: Peanut Butter. "But I'm not hungry," I declared triumphantly. He sighed and cleverly explained that Peanut Butter will get gum out of hair, which I hadn't remembered in my time of distress. This taught me the following:

Lesson #26: No matter where you're living, conventional wisdom will help you out when you're....stuck. There are simple fixes that are easy to forget if you haven't had to employ them since you were five years old (seriously, how does a 25 year old get gum in her hair? Oh, maybe drinking had to do with it). The important thing is to think calmly in times of distress and don't jump to assuming the worst. Sure, some conventional wisdom is cliche and no longer relevant, but I'm personally vouching for Peanut Butter's effectiveness.

I would've been really upset if I woke up and realized I had chopped some of my hair off at 2am, but instead I awoke with the delicious scent of Peanut Butter surrounding me and my pillow. And also, Oh My God does it make your hair silky smooth. I now have a favorite new hair product, and it's Peanut Butter (hey, at least I'm not this guy.)

I'm glad that I didn't have a roommate to judge me - but now that I've made the gum mishap public, feel free to judge. But if you haven't tried Peanut Butter in your hair, I will leave you with (the oh so cliche): don't knock it 'til you try it.

The Search Continues

Lesson #25: Some things are out of your control, and you simply need to learn and accept it. Literally, let go and enjoy the ride! Unless you're stuck on the tracks, surrounded by people, and the air conditioning shuts off. Then I really have no advice, as I haven't yet figured out how to not freak out in those instances.

Urban Walkabouts

I can liken much of my experience living in NYC to being on a Walkabout, though I didn't realize this before Lost introduced the John Locke storyline, I'll admit. Life imitates art, no? My life has essentially become an Urban Walkabout, learning to survive on my own in the city. Long, solitary walks have become the meat and potatoes (seitan and fennel?) of my sanity.

Lesson #24: Start getting used to doing things alone, and learn to enjoy it if you already don't! This may sound extreme to those without an inclination towards introversion, but that's the beauty of this city - even when you're alone, you're surrounded by millions. Basically, you're never alone in New York.

I think a lot of people are afraid to spend long amounts of time with only their thoughts (and perhaps some good music). Some of my most brilliant thoughts come from random walks where I have no social constructions to worry about and am able to simply observe life being lived.

Plus, what better way to explore the city than setting out on long walks, with maybe this guide, and planning a day to really get to know one neighborhood? Some of my favorite days I've spent in the city were ones when I woke up and decided to go to a random spot on a whim, discovering things I'd never have found otherwise.

Of course many things are more enjoyable with good company, which I'm very lucky to have here. Now that I'm living alone (what perfection!), I appreciate my time with others that much more - yet I understand how closely my sanity is tied to having time alone.

Disturbia

We gotta stay positive!

I'm currently in the eye of the storm, happily sandwiched between two Hold Steady shows. Last night was the Hold Steady's kickoff night of their tour, held in Ardsley, New York. The show was absolutely incredible, and held in probably the most interesting venue I've seen them in: Life, the place to be.

Though Ardsley is just an hour north of the city, the train stop was one of the most desolate areas - we were told it'd be "so easy to get a cab" from the stop to the venue.

It wasn't.

After departing the train, we waited and waited in at the train stop calling at least 10 taxi companies. We finally realized there was literally one cab working that night. There are few things I like to do more than talk to other Hold Steady fans, which we did while waiting, but my anxiety began to wear on me.

We wandered to the only building around to ask the security guard if she had any tips. After seeing a few ominous signs, we realized that we were waiting directly next to a mental institution.

Though I'm not a smoker, I thought deeply about taking up the habit at that moment given the stress of the situation. Lost in Ardsley, next to a mental institution, all while possibly missing the Hold Steady? I can only handle so much!

Luckily, I didn't need to start up a new habit, or check myself into the mental institution. The lone cab made trips back and forth, so we made it to our destination just as my sanity was about to break. Through the stress, I did learn one major lesson:

Lesson #23 when moving to a big city: Suburbs are similar where ever you go - just because they're outside a big metropolitan area doesn't mean they're going to be any cooler, or have more than one taxi per 5 mile radius. I honestly assumed that any place within a couple hours of NYC must have either public transit available, and at least a small fleet of cabs. Not the case.

I would say the moral here is to plan in advance and have your transportation figured out when traveling outside of the city. Or just never leave New York City, I suppose.

Lighten Up, Sunshine!

(Laugh Yoga. In case you're wondering, yes, I've done it.)

"The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter."

-Mark Twain

Oh, joyous day! Maybe not for all New Yorkers, as many were surprised, then upset, by this. April Fool's Day here at work (wait, wait, here) is akin to Christmas, without the excess consumerism and day off from work. April Fool's is full of fun surprises and laughs, and I wouldn't want to spend it anywhere else, no joke.

Lesson #22: If all else fails, keep your sense of humor! A sense of humor and ability to laugh at yourself is such an important quality, especially when you're living in a place that is often humorless. Take breaks every once in a while and read or watch something funny, and above all else, see the humor in the mundane.

Since I'm a new resident of Brooklyn, I like to ironically keep up on all things hipster by reading the following:

:(

Rosa DeLauro

hip pupps

and of course, this classic

Lastly, I may have mentioned my participation in the annual No Pants Subway Ride, but this today we decided to up the ante: may I present, the No Underwear Subway Ride.