I got dressed and walked to a pizza place on Cortelyou Ave that I know has good slices. The weather was amazing and I noticed that flowers had started blooming and there were small leaving on trees. I had a slice of cheese pizza for breakfast and finally fulfilled that craving for New York pizza that I have had since August. mmmmmmm....
I took the train into the city and went directly to Virgin Megastore at Union Square. This place, no matter how corporate it is, makes me feel at home. I wandered around for ages, and actually found two CDs I've been looking for that I haven't found anywhere else. So despite the fact that I came to NYC with a very limited amount of cash, I spent some of it on these CDs (that I just ripped to my hard drive and will send to Shana since I no longer own a CD collection). I couldn't bring myself to purchase my car's namesake's t-shirt (although it was quite rad, it was also $37!!)...I walked across the street and sat down on the steps in Union Square. It was gorgeous outside - the sun was bright and i was able to take off my jacket to soak up the rays. I sat there for quite a while watching random people walk by. New York is great for people watching, by the way. I decided to pull out "On the Road" and read a bit. BIG mistake. The man lying on the steps next to me (notice, he's not sitting like everyone else) looks over and asks how old I am. I chuckle and say "older than I should be for reading this book for the first time." He asked again and I told him I was 28. It's a good thing that I had nothing better to do with my time, because I totally opened up a door for him to ramble at me for an hour...
This guy, "Jack," was a crazy self-proclaimed "millionaire" that designed some computer program ("I'm a brilliant computer scientist," he claimed) to predict small changes in the stock market using astrology. Whatever. I indulged him. He then pulled out this scrap of folded paper with scribble marks in pencil trying to explain to me his complicated grid and how it's 90% accurate and that he made 2.7 million dollars yesterday. I just nodded my head. He asked my birthday and the time I was born. I told him and immediately he was like "Oh. Oh no. You're going through a transition at the moment. Let's just say you're about to go to hell and back. I don't envy you, and I'm here to tell you that you can't do it alone. But if you do exactly what I say, I can get you through this quicker." I laugh heartily and tell him I'm not afraid of any darkness. That I welcome that "transition" time because it develops my character, and that he's no idea who I am or where I've come from - and that I can handle my own transformation, thank you very much. This is when he started to attempt some complicated psychoanalytical bullshit on me - which I was not having any part of. He kept coming at different angles, and I kept stopping him in his tracks. He would laugh and say, "you're quite brilliant. You've got an impressive mind. I bet you just fuck with therapists for the hell of it," and then continue his rant about interfering with his daughter's painful "cycle." Thankfully James called me just as he was getting to be irritating. He finally got the hint that I wasn't about to end my phone conversation to entertain his illogical babbling any longer and he walked away. GAWD! That one took a while to shake off.
I decided to take the train to Grand Central Station just for the hell of it. On the way, I saw a kid complete a Rubix cube in the time frame of one stop - from 33rd St to 42nd St. CRAZY FAST!
Anyway, it was nearing rush hour and I like to stand at either end of the main concourse at Grand Central and watch. There are so many people wearing black; they look like little ants running around the anthill.I left Grand Central and went around the corner to Strawberry, where I proceeded to replace my favorite hoodie with two new ones. Don't worry, they were only $16 each. A fair price for feeling comfortable AND fashionable (in my own Vega way).
Anyhow, after the quick shop, I got back on the train to meet up with Chaya on the west side somewhere. I was waiting for the train when a woman came up and asked if this was the right train to get to the 1, 2, or 3 lines. I said I wasn't sure and we went and checked the map. She then said thanks and said she didn't get out of the city often - that it was an adventure for her to go to Brooklyn. hmm.
Once I met up with Chaya at Dunkin' Donuts (which, I might add, there are a fuck of a lot of them on the east coast), I asked her why every time I'm in New York I get asked for directions - even from the locals. She said it's because I look like a New Yorker. This took me by surprise. "What do you mean?" I inquired. Apparently it's my tattoos and piercings. I don't normally think of these things; I've had them so long. And since when did tattoos and piercings mean "New Yorker?" ah well.
I ended up at a diner with some of Chaya's friends. On the way there, we passed a man who was standing in a doorway pretending to knock. He was actually pissing. Funny how he would go through all that trouble to make it look like he was doing something normal...
I made a few new friends. Nadia, Caitlin (who I can completely relate to), Bridget, Deena, Mike, and Nickoleta. Interesting that I only need to be in New York for a few hours to make friends and feel welcome, but I could wander around Maine and Vermont for days without meeting a soul...
On my way back to Chaya's that night, I was waiting for the 'Q' train and heard a wonderful band made up of a trumpet, tuba and drums playing down the platform from where I was at. It was a nice way to end the day.
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