Paper Planes: 2013-05-19

New York.

They say home is where the heart is.... but what happens if your heart doesn't know where it is? Is it possible to have two hearts with two homes? Or perhaps it's more like having a home and a holiday house you love? Sydney and Manhattan. My home and my holiday house. New York city. I think I'm falling in love with you. Is is possible that you're becoming my home?

Friday Night. Manhattan. May. 2013.

When the weekend creeps up. And creep it does. Manhattan is my date. It's like being in a long-term committed relationship. Even though there are many years of your life you lived without it and survived without it, you now find yourself wondering how you ever did? And you NEVER want to imagine having to leave it for a long period of time, how will you cope? You know it'll always be there for you, waiting for you. Although unpredictable and surprising, it forever pulls you in. Slowly but surely, it pulls you in. Before you know it you're ready to get married and buy a house together.

Friday night. Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening. Sunday morning, Sunday afternoon and Sunday evening. One weekend split into sharp, yet short spaces of time ready to be filled. There really is so much time, but none dared to be wasted. There is so much to do. Always so much to do.

Friday Night.

2nd Ave and 13th. Manhattan.

How is this city so beautiful? Friday evening I had plans, in fact, once again I had plans for every part of this weekend (double high-five!). I finished work early, time to get pretty for my date (with NY). Summer is certainly on it's way and the days and nights are starting to get warm. Finally I bought a new hair straightener so after weeks of frizz, it's finally silky straight. I'm on the 3rd floor of this house, it gets hot in my room and with the hot hot hot straightener I couldn't get ready quick enough. The train takes longer than the bus, but I decided to take the train. It's nice, being able to watch the city approach, observing from a distance. You know when you're close. Everything goes dark as you enter into the tunnel and your ears scream at you to be popped. Looking around everyone feels it, mouths opening, hands on jaws and ears popping. Like the body needs to adjust to being in this big city.

I'm finally familiar with my surroundings. When I walk off that train I know exactly where to go. To the left, follow the 'exit on 8th Ave' signs. My pace is seriously at a New Yorker speed these days, the overwhelming frustration with slow walkers is hard to contain without huffing under my breath (never the confrontational type a huff is all I give). In this city, I've realised a fast pace is key. You blend into the swirl and blur of the thousands circulating the streets. If you slow down for too long, you stand out. I personally don't want that to happen.

I meet E on 34th street. Am I glad to see her. Am I glad to have a cocktail! We duck back into the subway and jump on the A train downtown. We accidentally get off a few blocks too soon but we are more than happy to walk it. Up and out of the subway and within 2 minutes I'm already pointing out the man dressed as a cross between a zebra and a lion with a head full of bouncing glittery hair. Our speed picks up, weaving in and out of the people and we discuss how nice it would be to be sipping on some champagne as we walked, of course not in a paper bag but perhaps a giant champagne glass with a straw would definitely work and prevent spillage? Is that illegal? Hmm another time.

As we cross over the street we see to our left a street filled with people, music, food and laughter. Want to check it out? Of course! We walk down, peering in at the stalls, although a public street, it almost feels like a private party. Of course this happens in New York. Of course you can find something without knowing something. Of course Friday night we stumble across a Ukrainian Festival. Welcome to New York. Both hungry we decided to try some food. But finding a sign that will tell us whats what is a challenge, everything is Ukrainian. Oh I see dumplings! Lets try dumplings! We order 5 for $3 with sour cream. Two forks, 1 table. Yum I can't wait. Oh.... hmmm turns out I don't particularly like these dumplings. They taste a little like.... well we don't even know what is in them, it wasn't in english. As we start reeling off suggesting "eel?! liver!?" my stomach starts turning. I don't like it. Neither does E, oh well, we tried! Off we set.

Ukrainian Festival. Manhattan.

Dumplings. Not so great for me.

We arrive at our destination. The beauty salon that offers a manicure and champagne on Friday nights. How exciting. Is this it? As I stand outside, surely not. This looks like a.... bar? And one I probably wouldn't go into. We walk in, a VERY large man greets us at the door, it's dark in here. I can't see much, is that people at the bar? Where do the nails get done? Are we at the right place? He asks us for our ID's, we hesitate at first, unsure if we should enter. I suck up the anxiety and hand over my ID. In we walk. E asks "Um we are wanting the champagne and manicure", the woman slightly resembling a 50 year old cigarette smoking goldilocks responds "sure hun, just behind you and pick yourself a cocktail". Behind us sits two women, on two little tables. Are they sober? I can't tell. This is not my usual experience with manicures but oh well! When in New York huh! I order my cocktail and then proceed to accidentally spill a quarter of it onto a mans seat, I just smile and laugh and walk away, that'll be fine right!? Phew! Sitting down I then realise I have Shellac on my nails, idiot! I can't even get a manicure. Oh well I'll just get them painted. The lady is friendly, looks a little like an old weathered Fiona from Shrek (when she is a princess). She is wearing a long green velvet dress and has reddish hair plaited in braids around her head. I get the feeling she doesn't like me so much but she's just being 'polite'. I'm also informed that my hands will probably get cancer if I continue to get Shellac as the UV lamps that are used to seal the paint. I see her later outside smoking. Thanks for that advice.

Lets give this a try. E's manicurist.

Cocktails and nails. It's dark in hurr.

"Beauty Bar", more like A bar.

After our nails are done we hear an announcement that the comedy show is starting in the back room. Well why not. We pick up our bags and walk to this 'back room'. We see a man on stage, and 2 people in the audience. This room looks like it might hold an audience of 30. We sit down, close to the front and we're ready to get picked on. Sure enough "heyyyy where are you two from?!" E answers the UK and I answer Australia. "Ohhh Australia! That's such a masculine place, doesn't everyone just want to fight you?" is that part of his act? I could have been wrestled 5 times coming here tonight and another 2 in the bar out front, I just awkwardly laugh. Two comedians come on stage, actually really funny. I'm laughing. One has been on the Jimmy Fallon show (he doesn't let us forget it) but he is a funny guy. After the second act it's our cue to leave. On the search for the next part of our adventure, food.

A little comedy on a Friday Night.

A meal for two.

We found a restaurant on 13th. Calamari, fries and beer (lucky I'm going to the gym 5-days!). Sounded like there was a club downstairs, a club in a restaurant?! We have to go. So off we went, downstairs, drink in hand and in we wa... hand on my shoulder, "Miss this is a private party", ohhhh awkward. No party for us. We walk out. Jump on the subway and on the L across to Union square and back to our local, Sidebar. I like this place.

Union Square. Downtown Manhattan.

The girl behind the bar is chatting up boys again. We order cocktails, delicious! $10, quite reasonable I think. We sit in a booth, people watching. There are groups of people spread out across the bar, looks like Wall Street men and women out for drinks. You know the type, suits, shirts and ties still on and only slightly bobbing to the music from their knees... up and down, head bob and then up and down, head bob.

Suit.

Cocktails and photo bomb girl.

I head to the bar to order our second round. 3 suits at the bar, "hey, having a good night?", I smile and respond "great, thanks!" and here it comes... "oh! are you English?!", I get this so often, "No, I'm Australian!", he looks pleased! "Oh well then, I have a question for you, what is the most masculine car men drive in Australia?" What is with Americans and thinking Australia is all about masculinity, am I missing something? I reply Ford or Holden (maybe thats the wrong answer) he looks genuinely upset and then continues to tell me his story about wanting to buy a Mercedes, he thinks thats a masculine car and that there is still enough room to have kids and a family. Kids, cars and masculinity all within the space of 2 minutes. My cue to leave!! I smile and walk away. Sheesh.

Out the door, summer is really on it's way, it's getting warm. How beautiful this city is but sprinkled with it's own colours of interesting and... not so interesting (like street trash). This beautiful picture below is what the streets look like every so often when the trash needs to be collected, no big bins for this city. Just garbage bags and a sidewalk. Hot summer will make this smell beautiful. And then below is a picture taken next to the trash, a mattress and man fast asleep. I guess lucky him he found it! He woke up as we walked past "hey" with a smile and then fell back asleep. At least he is alive. I've been hearing some stories lately of homeless people asleep in the streets (and once on the subway) and people have thought they are asleep, but they are actually dead.... I don't think I have the courage to be checking that out just now.

NYC Trash. Aka the street.

1 Homeless man. 1 Matres. 1 sidewalk.

Welcome Saturday Morning.

This morning I am off to Brooklyn. I have my new polkadot pants on, not sure what to think about them yet. Oh well they are on and I have my iced skinny vanilla latte and I'm ready for the day.

My Iced Skinny Vanilla Latte. My new favourite.

Once again, surfacing from the subway and up into Williamsburg it's like I've travelled hours and I'm in a different city. The beat is so much softer here. Perfect for Saturday morning coffee. Today I'm meeting another Australian, the perks of social media. We connected on a Facebook group about Australians moving to America. I was excited. As I'm sitting outside the Toby's Estate (cafè) waiting I hear my accent, an Australian man is sitting next to me. Wow the accent really does stick out. Across the street I see some wall writing, graffiti? I think not. "Love Somebody Real". I like you Brooklyn.

Williamsburg. Brooklyn. May.

My Australian turns up, wow it's so strange to be talking to someone with my accent. And it seems others think it's a little weird also. As we order our coffee and Avocado on toast (the best ever!), we are chatting away and the man across the table says to us "are you visiting or do you live here?" we both smile, a little out of smugness and respond "live here" that was fun, like duh! Now, I get to call this city home. The greatest city in the world is now my home.

Toby's Estate. Williamsburg. Brooklyn. May.

During our conversation we talk about home and our 'new home'. She tells me about her apartment and the amazing view it holds... "can I see?". Off we set, up in the lift, my ears pop. Out we walk. Wow how beautiful. One side is Manhattan and the other you can see all Brooklyn has to offer. We peer over the edge, how far down, lucky I'm not afraid of heights. This. Is. Sick.

Brooklyn with a view of Manhattan. May.

A view of Manhattan. May.

Brooklyn behind.

See you soon Brooklyn. It's been real.

Saturday.

Back in my city. I heard there was a food festival on today along 9th avenue so off I set to check it out. Bek is on her way in on the train and will meet me here. I literally walk out from 47th street which is quite and calm, and out onto 9th avenue and see exactly what is in the photo below. People everywhere. Stalls, food, singing, dancing and.... some rain. It's like I've landed myself in another world. Where have all these people come from!?

The International Food Festival. 9th Avenue.

From here we walked down 9th Avenue, stopped off at Merci Market for an organic lunch. We decided we would go to Zara, Victoria Secret and then to Macy's. Although everywhere is accessible by subway, and honestly I probably would usually drive/bus/train these distances, but here... it's crazy not to walk. You will one hundred per cent see something you've never see or knew existed. This city is without a doubt lined with glitter, filled with adventure and marinated in crazy. As through the crowd we saw a fifty year old man, riding a pink children's bicycle, wearing a pink tutu and a green crown whilst singing the merriest song. And earlier that morning I was greeted as the subway doors opened, by a huge clown, a man dressed in stripes, big shoes, an orange wig and face painted. But no smile and no balloons. Only in New York.

Manhattan. Shopping.

Street Food Stall.

Victoria Secret.

My Wish List. Michael Kors. Maccy's.

Macy's.

Saturday Night.

Saturday evening crept up quicker than I'd expected. Tonight I was off to The Strand Smokehouse in Astoria Queens. We had originally planned to go out in Manhattan so I was dressed to the nines, heeled boots, black dress, hair curled and blazer. Stepped out of the taxi and had the sharp realisation I was vastly overdressed. I wanted to call the taxi back! Come get me! I was dressed for Kings cross and landed at Balmoral Beach. But as my friend assured me, better to be over dressed than underdressed. Really? Perhaps. At that moment I slightly resembled a 5 year old, arms crossed and ignoring everyone. No I will not smile and introduce myself. This is not exactly how I had envisioned my Saturday evening. Although, being old enough to know I was being an absolute brat I agreed to having a shot. (do people ever say no?). This was a tequila shot, I questioned where the salt was? How can I do a tequila shot without salt? Well this was good tequila. No salt needed, no lemon needed. I started chatting to the people around me, and soon found myself laughing and really enjoying myself. Unfortunately my cocktail was a mix between drinking acid and cough syrup. Not delightful to say the least. But the company was absolutely delightful.

The Strand Smoke House. Astoria. Queens.

Sunday. Sunday. Sunday.

Sunday morning. I haven't had drinks in many weeks and my head is hurting a little. I feel like I'm getting old. Is 23 old? I'm 25 next year, thats old. Today I'm off to see my first Yankees game! How exciting! But wait... it's raining. Like it's seriously raining. I'm wearing a cap... I'm wearing converse... that'll be ok right? I meet T at Penn station. I can't believe this weather! We are meeting the others at the game. We jump on our subway. The stadium is in the Bronx. I've never been to the Bronx. How do we get there? We follow others wearing Yankees shirts. How long is this going to take? We estimate 30 minutes. 15 minutes later we are there. As we are walking through the tunnel, about to arrive a voice yells across "don't bother, the game is cancelled!", WHAT! We just got here.

Welcome.

Yankees Stadium. May.

There are thousands of people gathered outside the stadium. As the game was scheduled to commence in 20 minutes (we were probably running a little late) we knew the man was right. But as I stated to feel my back getting wet, the rain was really starting to hit now, I was actually a little relieved. This would suck. Happy to see the stadium. Happy the game will be rescheduled. Annoyed it's pouring and there are thousands of people, which means a clogged subway. We decided to seek refuge in the Mc Donald's (our only option).

Oreo McFlurry. The Bronx.

This Mc Donald's was an experience. Lets just say I was concerned about leaving my bag on the floor in fear of it being snatched. A man circled the tables asking for "spare change" and others looked like they might permanently live there. It was still raining outside and we knew the subway would still be full so we thought we would just 'blend' in and hang out here for a little while. Why not.

Yankees Stadium. May. The Bronx.

Back in the city. Sunday afternoon. Rain coming down. But it's still so beautiful and people everywhere. It's a challenge in the rain. Imagine hundreds of people weaving in and out of each other, some tall, some short, some big, some small. Now once you've got that jigsaw sorted... add in some umbrellas. WOW! Watch out for your scalps and eye balls. I spend my life weaving in and out, lifting my umbrella up and down. That is a skill of it's own. Oh and watch out for the puddles. The drains clog, the puddles grow and then the taxis empty the puddles onto the pedestrians.