I'll take the White Stag label, please

Shopping is different here. First of all, every single store sells the exact same thing. That thing being the current trend.

One day I got into a fight with an eastern European woman in the check-out line of a Levi's store. That was weird.

Another day I had to resort to just trying clothes on in the corner (fitting room line was far too long) and taking digital pictures to see how they looked on me.

Chinatown caters to American desires--brand names mainly. I searched all over for the right city purse. Finally I found exactly what I wanted, we settled on a price, since no price is set in stone there. It was a nice plain, green purse. Then the lady asked me which label I wanted. What? She had labels like "prada" and she would sew on whichever you chose. No label for me thanks. I noticed the lady who runs the laundry around the corner with the same purse as me, only hers has one of the labels on it.

Pictures

I really like to take pictures so there will be a lot on this blog. I'm not a master on the digital camera and mine is pretty basic so don't go expecting great things. It's a point and shoot.

The Sublet

We spent our first month in New York in a sublet. It was in Brooklyn, which is just a quick trip over some water from "the city". It was in the Park Slope neighborhood which is pricey and we soon found out why this one was under $1000 for the month. It was an "attic loft", meaning some cheap landlord (this one was a hasidic) decided to add an iffy staircase up to the attic and call that an apartment. The ceilings sloped down and we could barely stand in most of it, but at least the guy had low to the ground furniture. He had a stool in the bathtub for a sit-down shower. It really wasn't bad--we were close to a train, the park, good eating, our storage unit.

Here are some pictures taken from our window/skylight. Good views, but glad to be walking upright again. The other picture is of the scary stairs.

New to New York

Born and raised a southerner, "sir"s "ma'am"s and all, I've recently lost my senses and moved to the ultimate Yankee land, New York City.

There are a few things I dearly miss about my past life. I miss being able to wash/dry my clothes at home--I've already had many items fall victim to the unforgiving world of highly communal machines. I miss my dishwasher, but not as much as I thought. Since it's so hard to get groceries I don't cook as much, hence fewer dishes to wash. No big deal. The one necessity of life I am still in withdrawal over is the cheap Mexican food found in the South. The kind where only 2 or 3 people who work there speak enough English to seat you and the salsa is never-ending. I miss my chicken tacos, white cheesedip, and my endless salsa. I will never stop searching for that here, but many others have told me my search is in vain. If I were more of a risk-taker, I would open up that sort of restaurant here and make my fortune by 28.

Now, I expected a lot of things to be different. Everything would cost more. People would not be as friendly. I would NOT have to drive a car! It would be crowded. So after living in Arkansas and North Carolina, what really caught me off-guard about NY? Parking lots! Or the lack thereof. How do you grocery shop without a car? Not easily, I'll tell you that after years of packing the trunk full and driving my delicious loot right up to my door at home. I still have trouble not buying more than I can handle on the journey (by foot or by foot+train) home. Will my love of cooking persist in this new world? Only time will tell.

With this entry is a picture of El Rodeo, in loving memory of my dear southern mexican cuisine.

Why blog?

Too much time right now and so many fabulous stories! No, really. My stories are fabulous. I'm famous for my story telling being...

Anyway, after the recent move to the big city I have much share so hold on to your socks! The times and dates of the first few postings will all be lies.