Things I Am Going To Miss

I am leaving in just over a week. Ahh! Naturally, I've started thinking about those things I am going to miss, and those I will not. I'm not going to bore you with the obvious: I'm going to miss my friends and my boyfriend. Duh.

But these, in no particular order, are some uniquely NYC things I will miss. Please excuse the trite phrasing. It is Friday night and I have had beer.

• Bagel Express
• Those chance subway encounters that make the whole day better. (A few months ago, a ventriloquist had the entire car laughing.)
• Central Park
• The Rockaways
• The deli where they know my order
• My favorite workday breakfast, which is only available at the other deli
• Harlem
• My smoothie places
• The Strand
• My students
• Having two cell phones, and this being totally normal
• Walking really fast
• Stores and restaurants that are open 24/7
• Delivery.  OMG SEAMLESS!
• Talking books with strangers on the subway
• Magical bus routes that go everywhere I need them (M116!)
• Talking fast
• Hearing lots of languages on any given day and getting to practice my languages by eavesdropping and/or asking tourists where they're from
• Hailing a cab
• Hearing people on the street at all hours of the night
• Long walks through different neighborhoods
• The ability to go to lots of literary and cultural events
• Delicious dinner for two for $7 at Vanessa's

There are so many more, but this list is too long already. Also, I'm really proud of myself for restraining from ending with a point about missing the best city in the world. New York's wonderful, but I'm ready for a break from all the noise, chaos and smells. (Note to self: Get a white-noise sound machine that sounds like people yelling.)

Hey, Y'all!

East 95th has been resurrected! Alas, neither Julie nor I have returned to the constantly-shaking, jackhammer-soundtracked wasteland that is our old block, but I am repurposing this blog with Julie's permission. (Actually, it was her idea.)

2013 Update! Julie remains living along the 6 line, now with the volatile companionship of a gigantic cat named Mr. Fitzpatrick Bubbles. I shit you not. Mr. Bubbles is actually his name, and Julie added Fitzpatrick for dignity's sake. Julie loves him with all her heart, and I am afraid of him.

I am a couple weeks away from embarking on a new adventure that will take me from the noise and aggression of Manhattan to the quiet of Virginia, where I will be going to grad school for Creative Writing! Moving south will surely bring lots of surprises, revelations and boozy good times, and I'm going to document them here.

Cheesy Interlude: I'm looking forward to learning a lot about writing, myself and a new part of the country, and can't wait to share what I learn with you! Let's watch me become a better person!

Stay tuned for such posts as: There's Actually A Sign For The Mason-Dixon-Line, Is This Pizza?, Where Are The Bagels? and Driving Here Isn't Scary!

-Marissa

Alas

Unfortunately, the novelty of living off of Second Avenue faded. Even Singing Guy could not cheer us up as we endured night after night of our apartment shaking and vibrating from the subway construction.

Julie and I became tired--so very tired--of crossing a major construction site every time we had to do laundry. We became tired of the dust that crept into our apartment even though our windows were closed. We became sick of living in a walk-up, and the Gristedes vs Key Foods battle soured. Alas, we even became tired of taking the always-delightful, always-punctual, always-spacious and clean 6 train to work.

By the time our lease was up, 95th Street had lost its charm, and we moved.

Now we must decide about the fate of this poor, homeless blog. Should we continue, even though its name will become a misnomer?

-Marissa

P.S: We found out that the Become Your Dream Guy is not, indeed and unfortunately, Singing Guy. Alas.

Singing Guy

Ever since we moved into our place on East 95th Street, my roommate, Julie, has been trying to convince me of the existence of a man she calls Singing Guy. For a while, I thought Julie was a complete psycho, undergoing some daily morning breakdown/schizophrenic episode. But I was wrong!

I'm usually at work by the time he allegedly serenades our block, but I finally got to hear and see Singing Guy a few times this week!

Every morning between 8 and 9, Julie is awoken by the strange yelping voice of Singing Guy. His voice is like no other--Singing Guy's words are garbled but he is always enthusiastic and makes sounds that remind me of a barking dog or seal. Singing Guy always walks down the middle of the street at a jaunty pace, wearing a brightly-colored coat and accompanied by a similarly neon-clad (and possibly female) companion. Julie believes that Singing Guy's life is a life of brilliant happiness.

Do you know anything about the mysterious Singing Guy and his friend? Where does he come from? Why is he always cheerful and loud? What is in his coffee that makes him so consistently lively so early in the morning? And who is his friend? We'd like to be his friends too.

In another post, I will discuss the Become Your Dream sidewalk/box art around our neighborhood. Are Singing Guy and Mr. Become Your Dream one and the same?

Welcome to East 95th Street!

Hello! Welcome to East 95th Street!

Please check back for more posts about the curious happenings and people on East 95th Street in New York City. More coming soon!