New York

A moment of camaraderie

kristy, 2 Comments
It happened right behind these glorious doors.
It happened right behind these glorious doors.

Setting: bathroom of the Central Library, Brooklyn, last Sunday, closing time.

We all crowded in for our last chance to pee, for free (something I don’t take for granted). The bathroom was a mess, and the stalls were out of toilet paper.

‘It’s out of toilet paper, but I saved you the last square’, a woman said to her friend.

‘It’s out of toilet paper’, the friend said sympathetically to me as she exited.

‘I’ll use a seat cover’, I announced, thinking my ingenuity might help another.

‘It’s out of toilet paper’, I said to the next woman in line, who laughed and said, ‘It’s okay. I’ll just shake-shake-shake’.

Outside a police officer stood guard shouting ‘The women’s restroom is closed! The library is closed!’ and lecturing passersby on how unthinkably terrible it is to wait until 6 o’clock to go to the bathroom.

A woman approached her unafraid and declared that she’d been waiting since before 6, but the line was too long, and they both geared up for an argument.

‘There’s no toilet paper, anyway’, someone interjected.

A moment of camaraderie

2013 in Review: Part One

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In 2013, I took very few pictures and wrote even less, but it was such a great year that I decided to do a year-in-review post anyway.  Once I got started, I realized I had a lot to say about it, so I decided to break it up into three posts. This is the first.

I’d love to hear about your highlights from 2013 and see your end-of-year blog posts if you have any!

WINTER & SPRING

This is the view from where I work. Every time I see it, I pause and think of opening credits to any of the thousands of movies set in New York.
Snow day!

At the beginning of the year, I got my first full-time job in an office with a view of the whole city and moved in with my childhood friend Marissa. We hadn’t really hung out since doing our First Communion in 1998! Reconnecting with her has been really rad. My life and paychecks were finally stable enough to join a Community-Supported Agriculture program, start going to the YMCA, and grocery shop without looking at prices (as much). New York had its first big snow since I moved here! I felt absolutely rich.

I fell in love with Brooklyn in the spring, taking pictures of all the flowers, exploring fancy neighborhoods and noticing little distinctions, like the statues of Jesus in Boerum Hill and the large francophone population in Cobble Hill. At a fancy event, I saw Gloria Steinem in real life, and she let me take a picture with her!

I started trying on dresses for my wedding with help from Tasha who was the best fashion consultant and friend, schlepping all over and giving me sound advice. When I was on the brink of spending all the money Devin and I had on a big organza number from the ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ store, she reminded me to ‘say nice to the price’, and just like that shopping was fun again. I’d always dreamt of getting married in blue, but all the blue gowns in the city looked like something Cinderella’s step-sisters would wear so the search continued.

My cousin Vanessa threw me a tea party wedding shower, and Devin graduated from with a Master’s in Environmental Something-or-Other ; ) In his program, it’s a tradition to decorate your graduation cap, and he decorated it with a bird’s-eye view of his family farm complete with a replica of their tractor. He also put a gavel on it because he studied environmental laws and policies.

2013 in Review: Part One

Season’s Greetings from Dyker Heights

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This house also had carousels on its lawn.

Last night Devin and I met up with our friend Hyunhee to see the lights in Dyker Heights. It’s been on my Christmas to-do list since 2011, and I’m so happy we did it this year. The houses there go all out with light displays on their front lawns. Think lights on every surface area, spotlights on enormous statues,  a couple of carousels, blow-up decorations, a crucifix, and some blaring holiday music to tie the scene together.

We brought our own holiday drinks and wandered the neighborhood while it snowed!

If you’re in the area and like Christmas stuff, I recommend it. Bonus: the subway ride there was much, much shorter than I expected, and there were no crowds. Oh yeah, did I mention it snowed? The flakes were so big I realized that the cartoon depictions are actually just what snowflakes look like up close.

For more Christmas times to be had in the city, see this post co-written by my cousin.

Season’s Greetings from Dyker Heights

Please enjoy with hot cocoa

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I thought I might go all out with Christmas decorations this year, but it turns out there’s no need. One of our neighbors put out a sign offering to decorate everyone’s doors, so now I come home to a fully decorated apartment building every night. If I saw this in a movie, I’d be like ‘Pfff! That would never happen’, but it’s like the great Mark Twain once said, sometimes truth is cuter than fiction.

In my office building, I get to see a big tree, wreaths with twinkly lights, an electric menorah, and a Kwanzaa altar. I get really giddy when I pass the Kwanzaa decorations because one of the first chapter books I read was about a New York family who celebrated Kwanzaa, and I dreamed about moving here and meeting friends who celebrated it. I still don’t know anyone who does, but maybe this is the year!

photo 1

Outside, streetlights and lampposts and, yes, store windows are decorated, too; but I am most excited by the decorations put up just because. I do believe that the holidays are about much more than consumerism, and it’s nice to have visual reminders of this. Of course, materialism is a part of these holidays, just like it’s a part of every other aspect of our lives. Hate the capitalism, not the Christmas is the moral for me, though trying to come up with meaningful gifts that don’t perpetuate our current economic system is rough. A necklace made of foraged walnuts might be a nice gesture, but it isn’t particularly desirable, you know?

big quaint city

Devin and I are going to Mexico to celebrate with my big family, under one roof for a whole week! Neat things happen when so many of us get together. One year we spent an entire day painting with watercolors. Last year I ended up watching three Hallmark Christmas movies in a row with my gruffest, most serious uncle. They all had names like Christmas with Holly (Holly being the protagonist, of course). The best part is that the movies were even too cheesy for me (me!), but my uncle stayed up to watch a fourth. It was called Naughty or Nice, and the main character was named Krissy Kringle, you guys.

When I was little, my cousins and I would dance and sing along to this 80s album of Mexican pop stars singing carols. I didn’t realize how nonsensical some of them are until I played them and Devin translated the one about fish drinking river water to celebrate Jesus’s birth while the Virgin Mary brushes her hair with a silver comb. It’s actually really catchy…

Before we leave, I want to bask in all the New York holiday cheer, decorate a little Charlie Brown tree, and maybe even talk some friends into going to see the lights in Dyker Heights! Do you have any holiday traditions? Or tips for things to do in NYC? What are the best stocking stuffers to disrupt the social order, anyway?

Please enjoy with hot cocoa

The surprise party

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Despite my best efforts, I am usually late. I try really, really hard and bargain with the universe to be on time, and then I am so sorry I’m late.  That’s how it came to pass that this morning I was fifteen minutes (but only fifteen!) late to brunch (after pushing back the meeting time twice–how does this happen?), and it is also why I’m only starting to blog about my wedding now, almost 4 months after the event. I think since it has been so long, I should just post pictures from the actual wedding since that’s what people really want to see, but I like being thorough, so let’s begin at the beginning.

Way back in July, my friends surprised me with the most perfect party I could ever have imagined. It was technically my bachelorette party. It was so perfect that there are almost no pictures because everyone was too busy having fun. Here is the little photographic evidence I do have.

streamers

 

the spread

 

happyfriendpic
There was fun. There was laughter. There was not a group picture. : (

 

There were homemade streamers and confetti, a big lavender-blackberry cake and tiny thumbcakes, snacks on snacks on snacks, and Drake on the stereo. Then, we went out dancing, and we walked straight into my dream place, which Tasha, Devin, and I had tried to go to for my birthday but weren’t even allowed to stand in line! Then, we ate falafel with a hot sauce so spicy it made me sob. It was hands-down the best falafel I’ve ever had. Then, we had a sleepover and watched an episode of ‘The Newlywed Game’ from 1966 with a surprisingly feminist contestant who seemed to be very happily married! And finally, we went on an epic quest for my favorite New York City brunch that culminated in a free cab ride. The whole time I kept looking around and realizing, ‘My friends really, really know me. They understand me, and they like  me!’

I’ve never liked the concept of a bachelor/ette party. You know, “One last hurrah before you lose all your freedoms!” Ew. But a celebration of friendship and being 100% accepted for who you are? That’s a party I’d like to throw for every single one of my friends. Whether or not they get married is irrelevant.

 

The surprise party

Lately

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New York has been full of fancy surprises. First, I found out that my next door neighbor directed the latest Animal Collective video. Then, I found out that a month ago when something was being filmed in my building and I was just grateful to be able to get into the building without unlocking the heavy front door—it was propped open so all the film people could scurry in and out, over and over—well, I should have been more curious! Because last week my neighbor told me it was a movie by that ‘old guy with the really dry sense of humor. You know…he’s Jewish…I can’t think of his name’ (direct quote). That’s right. A Woody Allen movie filmed down the hall from me, and I missed the opportunity to become his next muse. I could have been discovered while taking out the compost, and wouldn’t that make a good opening line in Vogue? ‘Rotten tomatoes usually mean the end of an acting career, not the beginning; but kristy so-and-so has always done things a little differently…’

Oh well! I did get to have dinner with friends on top of a building in the West Village that may or may not be the home of Sarah Jessica Parker. I am never fact-checking this story, for obvious reasons, but I can tell you definitively that the view was beautiful, and there were fireworks in the distance, and Devin and I made my favorite soup for the occasion. Yes, soup in August. It’s been brisk ever since we got back from our honeymoon, and I am slowly letting go of my dream to go swimming just one more time before September.

Lately

First

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It’s our first weekend in New York together, or rather it’s the hundredth one we’ve spent here but the first one we’ve spent as two New York residents, living in the same apartment, with no place else to be. It’s our first weekend in New York ~together forever~ if you know what I mean. And if you don’t, what I mean is we’re married!

This morning we went to look at a place where maybe we will make a home. ‘Is it a room or an apartment?’ ‘It’s both! It’s a two-in-one!’, we joked. A front door that locks, space for a bed, a stove, a little fridge, and a bathroom. That’s all anyone really needs, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed. 
 
After the apartment viewing, we came home and made tomato soup with  tomatoes of every color and ate it with homemade bread, a wedding present from our friends in Wisconsin.
 
Our life is one big wedding present lately. Heartfelt words and pretty cards and hugs and cool kitchen stuff and pictures and books everywhere we look! I can’t wait to write a thank-you note to each of you. For now, I’ll start with a big group thank-you right here.
 
All of your notes, phone calls, text messages, e-mails, playlists, recommendations, cards, pictures, packages, and trips to see us—whether at the wedding or before or after—have made the past month the most magical, awe-inspiring moment of my life. I looked up synonyms for ‘thank you’ because it just isn’t enough to express all the gratitude and love I feel for you. The best way I can sum it up is this: my cheeks hurt from all the smiling, and they’ve hurt every day since July 13th. Honestly, I’m not sure they’ll ever recover.
 
thankyouthankyouthankyoooou
First

Gloopy Shards

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A few weeks ago, I was rushing to catch the train when I broke my brand new bottle of foundation. Sephora has a generous return policy, so I briefly contemplated carrying the gloopy shards of glass back to their ancestral home before deciding that even I couldn’t be so ridiculous (and okay, I had no time).

I threw them away and kept running–that funny run I do when I’m wearing heels, for some reason it involves a lot of arm flailing?

And then, while I was speed-walking across what felt like a ten-lane street, my brain went ‘hold up, reality check’, and I realized that I was running to get to a GALA in NEW YORK CITY, which I was being PAID to attend (and I do NOT mean à la ‘Pretty Woman’, thank you).

I caught the train, and when I emerged, I found myself face-to-face with my very favorite building in Midtown. It’s the one I saw while looking out the window of my first interview, on my first day as a New York resident, and every time I see it I’m like, ‘Oh! What are you doing here? I’m so happy to see you!’ even though it’s a building and it never moves.

At the gala, I ran into people I know from other parts of my life and was even more surprised. It’s like I can’t fully comprehend that I live here.

I hope I never do.

Gloopy Shards

That bright little apartment

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When I first moved to New York, my friends and I shared a one-bedroom apartment with a pitbull named Penelope. It was very clearly her apartment and not ours. After a month of Penelope’s antics-–and having to feed her raw chicken three times a day-–we finally moved into our own apartment! It was far from perfect, but it really felt ours. Our bright little sitcom apartment. I could always count on coming home and laughing with my friends. Outside our door I spoke spanish with our neighbors, learned to use a laundromat, and bought groceries at a little store under the Williamsburg bridge. On the best days I walked to a pool the size of a lake and swam then headed home to throw little dinner parties.

So, while my current apartment far exceeds this little one in the categories of square-footage, amenities, convenience, and non-toxicity, I think the bright little apartment is worthy of a blog post.

What's that, tucked in the trees? Why, it's apartment number two!
What’s that, tucked in the trees? Why, it’s apartment number two!
Meet its former residents.
Meet its former residents.
The glorious morning light!
So many windows, so much light.
The light made even solo breakfasts exciting, and the vintage dishes–-a gift from Marika's grandmother–- are the most beautiful things I've ever eaten from.
The light made even solo breakfasts exciting.
This bookshelf? Anda found it on the curb!
This bookshelf? Anda found it on the curb.
Outside there were always unattended cars playing really good salsa and reggaeton.
Outside there were always unattended cars playing really good salsa and reggaeton.
The school down the block had the biggest blacktop!
The school down the block had the biggest blacktop!
And this was the view from one of our subway stops.
And this was the view from one of our subway stops.
That bright little apartment

The time I turned twenty-four

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I turned 24 in February, but I have no pictures to prove it and I got writer’s block because I didn’t have anything interesting to say about it. But I can’t not write about my birthday—the only holiday all about my life—on the only blog all about my life. So here we are almost a month later, and uh, I guess I have some thoughts about my age?

The best part was reading and hearing everyone’s birthday wishes to me, which all went kind of like this:

Dear Kristy,

Happy Birthday! I am so proud of you! Look at all the things you have accomplished since last year!

I love you!
Your friend/mom/cousin/friend/partner/co-worker/aunt

And they are all 100% correct to point out that I’ve accomplished a lot since my 23rd birthday. Because I was a hot mess last year.

Last year, I had my birthday dinner at Chipotle because I was too overwhelmed by New York to find a restaurant. And I couldn’t even find the Chipotle because I didn’t understand that Broadway and West Broadway are two totally different (stupidly named) streets. After dinner, I dragged Anda to find a dress with me and then cried outside Bloomingdale’s because “all those dresses are so ugly! I can’t even afford them, but I just don’t understand why there are no good dresses anywheeeeeere” (sorry, A).

A few days later I had a nice birthday party thanks to my friends, in our tiny apartment filled with flowers. And a year later, somehow I ended up 24 with a CSA share and a membership to the YMCA. I knew how I wanted to celebrate my birthday and what I wanted to wear, but it didn’t hit me until I was having dinner. I looked around and saw almost all the friends who were at my 23rd party (plus two of my new roommates). And I realized most of them had been at other birthday parties of mine!

Marissa at my 10th birthday sleepover in Texas. Jess at a surprise party for my 18th at Spiral Diner.  Anda threw me the best party on the 19 bus for my 19th. Tasha showed up to my 23rd Chipotle birthday meltdown with a pink rhinestone piggy bank, and here she was at my 24th with a stack of party hats and a pink tinsel tiara for me. On and on around the table.

Growing up, I always imagined my ‘adult life’ like this: living in a city, full-time job, regular-status at a coffee shop. But I didn’t know I’d get to keep my friends.

I’ve known most of them since I was 18 or younger. That’s 6 years or more of shared history! In multiple cities. (Woah.)

So, if you’re reading this, whether we were together in real life or through technology/our hearts/whatever, I hope you know that you’re my favorite birthday present. The gift that keeps on giving. The present that always fits just right, etc. etc. I love you!

The time I turned twenty-four