and I'm back.
I finally took time to slow down and get my life semi-together today. I'll have been here two weeks tomorrow, and I feel like I've been here forever -- or for only a day. Either way, while it's not "home" in the sense of the homes I've known for the past four and a half years (Kirkland, Urbana, Elmhurst), it feels like home.
A few people have asked if it feels weird to live here, and really, the easiest way to describe it is to say it feels like I actually moved here last June, left for a semester to finish my degree, and now I'm back.
Funny, I was just skimming my last post and I definetly said I don't want to live in Manhattan if I move here after graduation. Well I moved to Manhattan. Except now, rather than living in the transportation/cultural/artsy hub of the city, I'm way, way, WAY uptown in Washington Heights and I love it. My neighborhood is much more like a neighborhood than 14th Street was. No surprise there, considering I'm almost to the tip of Manhattan. (The northern most street is 220th. I'm at 180th. take a look.
I'm just south of two huge parks. Fort Tryon Park (which, might I add, was first designed by the Olmsted Brothers, if you haven't read the book already, do it dammit) and Inwood Hill Park. I think these parks are going to be my sanity. When I set out to explore the area last week, The Meters playing through my headphones and the wind calm enough to walk comfortable for a few hours, my first destination was The Cloisters--a collection of medieval art owned by the Met--at Fort Tryon. A few minutes into the park, you can immeaditly forget you're in Manhattan. In fact, when you look over the Hudson, if you ignore the passing cars on the West Side Highway below you, it's like being on the water somewhere. Except instead of sail boats, there's ugly barges. And instead of a distant vanishing point where water meshes with sky, it's Jersey. Whatever.
Walk a few blocks east and the area becomes more hispanic. Lots of wholesale bedding stores (drapes, curtians, all the stuff you'd find at a "white sale" at a Bed Bath and Beyond or wherever) and the typical street junk (it's a little junkier than the stuff in midtown and downtown though ... much more plastic tinkets, much less unique artwork). Walk west and you can only go about two blocks before you hit the Hudson River. The Hudson is strange. It's not very wide, and I've never lived anywhere where you can see a different state on the other side. It kind of reminds me of looking over the Illinois River, but the Ill river, I think, is bigger. A block to the south is the George Washington Bridge. Yep, I live by a bridge. It's pretty damn exciting. I marvel at it every night when I walk up the stairs from the subway and see it, brightly lit, shining in it's glory, dutifully transporting motorists, cyclists and whomeever else between Jersey and the Island. God I love steel. As soon as it gets warmer, I'm going to talk a walk to Jersey. I like saying that.
Speaking of the subway, my apartment is also very convinent in that sense; I'm a block away from the A train, which, when running express (until eleven p.m. or midnight on the weekdays and whenever the hell it feels like it on the weekends), takes about 20 minutes to get to Columbus Circle (59th Street) and about 40 to lower Manhattan. If I get a job at Hearst (cross your fingers), it would rock because there's an entrance/exit from the Columbus Circle stop right into the Hearst Tower. Way to think ahead William Randolph.
On the job front ... I've had three good interviews this week, some more promising than others and some (not necessarily the same "some") more desierable than others.
And, I now have HBO on demand. And a DVR. All the Sex in the City, Curb, Lost, Scrubs, The Wire and Sopranos I could watch (although I have yet to get into the latter two. I've only been here two weeks).
Check out photos of the ’hood on Flickr. The blogger uploading tool isn't cooperating.
A few people have asked if it feels weird to live here, and really, the easiest way to describe it is to say it feels like I actually moved here last June, left for a semester to finish my degree, and now I'm back.
Funny, I was just skimming my last post and I definetly said I don't want to live in Manhattan if I move here after graduation. Well I moved to Manhattan. Except now, rather than living in the transportation/cultural/artsy hub of the city, I'm way, way, WAY uptown in Washington Heights and I love it. My neighborhood is much more like a neighborhood than 14th Street was. No surprise there, considering I'm almost to the tip of Manhattan. (The northern most street is 220th. I'm at 180th. take a look.
I'm just south of two huge parks. Fort Tryon Park (which, might I add, was first designed by the Olmsted Brothers, if you haven't read the book already, do it dammit) and Inwood Hill Park. I think these parks are going to be my sanity. When I set out to explore the area last week, The Meters playing through my headphones and the wind calm enough to walk comfortable for a few hours, my first destination was The Cloisters--a collection of medieval art owned by the Met--at Fort Tryon. A few minutes into the park, you can immeaditly forget you're in Manhattan. In fact, when you look over the Hudson, if you ignore the passing cars on the West Side Highway below you, it's like being on the water somewhere. Except instead of sail boats, there's ugly barges. And instead of a distant vanishing point where water meshes with sky, it's Jersey. Whatever.
Walk a few blocks east and the area becomes more hispanic. Lots of wholesale bedding stores (drapes, curtians, all the stuff you'd find at a "white sale" at a Bed Bath and Beyond or wherever) and the typical street junk (it's a little junkier than the stuff in midtown and downtown though ... much more plastic tinkets, much less unique artwork). Walk west and you can only go about two blocks before you hit the Hudson River. The Hudson is strange. It's not very wide, and I've never lived anywhere where you can see a different state on the other side. It kind of reminds me of looking over the Illinois River, but the Ill river, I think, is bigger. A block to the south is the George Washington Bridge. Yep, I live by a bridge. It's pretty damn exciting. I marvel at it every night when I walk up the stairs from the subway and see it, brightly lit, shining in it's glory, dutifully transporting motorists, cyclists and whomeever else between Jersey and the Island. God I love steel. As soon as it gets warmer, I'm going to talk a walk to Jersey. I like saying that.
Speaking of the subway, my apartment is also very convinent in that sense; I'm a block away from the A train, which, when running express (until eleven p.m. or midnight on the weekdays and whenever the hell it feels like it on the weekends), takes about 20 minutes to get to Columbus Circle (59th Street) and about 40 to lower Manhattan. If I get a job at Hearst (cross your fingers), it would rock because there's an entrance/exit from the Columbus Circle stop right into the Hearst Tower. Way to think ahead William Randolph.
On the job front ... I've had three good interviews this week, some more promising than others and some (not necessarily the same "some") more desierable than others.
And, I now have HBO on demand. And a DVR. All the Sex in the City, Curb, Lost, Scrubs, The Wire and Sopranos I could watch (although I have yet to get into the latter two. I've only been here two weeks).
Check out photos of the ’hood on Flickr. The blogger uploading tool isn't cooperating.
posted by Erin at 1:40 AM
3 Comments:
ha.
ha. you love steel eh? take steel design and then we'll talk..
Ok - correction: Steel amazes me. I like what people can do with it.
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