It's been a strange week, half riding out in all directions and half being comatose and waiting for things, like utilities guys to turn up with the internet. My new neighborhood is largely Caribbean, so it smells amazing and the bodegas have fruits and candies that I can't identify. It's near Prospect Park, so I've been diligently riding out on the little bike loop every day. I like it a lot more than Central Park, less crowded, less manicured. Just as many manic-faced roadies in Kissena jerseys, though.
AND THERE'S NOWHERE TO PARK.
People are a lot nicer than I expected. They say hello to me and smile (after the sort of up-and-down size-up that seems to be a New York thing). I got a giant bell and furiously ding at anyone who gets in front of me, and they say 'I like your bell!' which is disarming.
Replace the constant squeaking with DING DING DING DING DING...
Since everything is so far away from everything else I am gonna be getting Champion style legs pretty soon.
I made a point to make my room nice; it'll be good to have a sanctuary from the inevitable school-related stress. Packing half a three story house into a third of a three bedroom apartment isn't so easy, but NYC has closets which are deeper than six inches, so there's that. The house mojo won't be properly set until my cat and the housemate's cat move in (also, the housemates). I miss having a chubby little pounce monster wrecking my curtains.
And I miss Phila a lot, or rather I miss the people in it. It's going to take a long time to build up a community as amazing as the one I enjoyed there. I did visit Time's Up, which is a bike co-op not unlike Bike Church in Phila. And everyone was super nice and welcoming and unsnotty and that made me very happy. Bike people seem to be marvelously similar no matter where they are, and it's immensely comforting to find a space where I feel automatically at home. I've never dealt with design types before, and it's been a long time since art school. The social aspect of grad school is scaring me out of me tree going to be an adventure.
Tomorrow I and my gentleman-friend are checking out a small-boat club where we may keep our sailboat (WHICH FLOATS!!!!!!) Is there a way to talk about your boat without sounding like an entitled twitbag? If you say 'I'm building a boat' everyone says 'Cool!' but if you say 'I have a boat' everyone thinks,
Wot? Me?
At some point I will write about the boat's maiden voyage. It was.... memorable.
There are a lot of churches in my neighborhood. St Francis of Assisi rings its bells at 15 minute intervals (not quite on the dot). It makes me acutely aware of time, and how much (if any) I am wasting. This whole city seems very much concerned with time, at least no one appears to be loafing. I'll quit loafing the minute school starts, but at the moment flaneur-ing my way about Brooklyn feels very strange.
Qua? Moi? Oui!
And on THAT note, I am off to Montreal for a week.
Hello, mad city?
-Isis
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