I have lived in four of the five boroughs of New York City. When I came here in 2003, I lived in Brooklyn's Park Slope with three other roommates and taught high school. We were in a fourth-floor walk-up on 3rd Street between 6th and 7th Ave, a short walk to Prospect Park and tons of cool restaurants and used book stores (most of the bookstores are now closed). It was a safe, charming place and probably a great NYC starter neighborhood for my 23 year old self. A year later, I found myself in graduate school and living in the Bronx, right on the Grand Concourse at 175th Street. I had one roommate, and a huge, gorgeous art-deco apartment in a crumbling building. We were the only white chicks around for probably a 20 block radius. Which was absolutely fine, and I think good for me. I stayed there five years. Then, I spent two years in a miniscule apartment in Manhattan's east 90s, which I shared with my sister. I grew very attached to the UES. I still go back and eat at the Midnight Express Diner and drink at Auction House on 89th Street. Both of these are quality places and I recommend them highly. I so liked living on the UES that I was really not excited to move to my fourth borough in Astoria, Queens in August of 2011. But one does get more for one's money in Queens.
It did take some adjusting. I had a random Craigslist roommate, and the less said about her, the better. My commute time to work doubled. I suddenly found myself far away from all my friends, and in case you didn't already know this, people do not like to travel to the outer boroughs for a visit. They expect you to meet them in Manhattan. Fortunately, I have some very dear friends who will sometimes make the trek for me, but this was still an adjustment. Cabs, also, do not like to go to Queens. I have had many of them argue with me, and I've had to invoke the "you're legally obligated to take me" line more than I should have. To top it all off, I found my allergies acting up almost immediately upon arrival. I decided that I was allergic to Queens, though it turns out I am probably just allergic to the tree outside my bedroom window for part of the year.
Almost two years later, though, I love it here and I don't think I'd go back to Manhattan even if I could. (Well OK - maybe if money was no object and I could live on 5th Ave or CPW near the park, I'd do it). I have a new Craigslist roommate who is working out well, and I've been able to do nice things with the apartment. But best of all, the neighborhood itself has really grown on me. I live east of Steinway, which is a little quieter than much of Astoria. But I like that. And there are some places and neighborhood quirks that I'll really miss when I eventually leave (though I have no plans of doing so soon).
So here are some things that I absolutely love about my little section of Astoria:
1. Gian Piero Bakery
This is the place to go for quality, authentic southern-Italian pastries. I developed a problematic cannoli habit when I first moved here. Adding to the atmosphere of authenticity is the crowd. In spite of my Irish surname and resemblance to my Polish grandma, I'm actually half-Italian (Italian on the inside, I like to say) and let's just say I recognized these people without ever having met them before. They're the immigrants and first-generation crowd that sits and talks in a mix of Italian and English and were a fixture at every communion party I attended as a kid. Gian Piero's is where they hang out, sometimes sitting on the benches outside if it's warm, or crowded at the tables inside if it's cold. For me, it feels familiar and also nostalgic - a bit like visiting a slice of NYC that doesn't really exist anymore except maybe here and other isolated pockets, like the Bronx's Arthur Avenue.
2. Off the Vine
This wine store is small but very nice, and they have regular Saturday tastings! I always find something good here, and the owner is knowledgeable and friendly, and happy to make a recommendation. There is also a very sweet dog there sometimes. I've stopped into Off the Vine countless times on my way home from work and picked up a bottle and exchanged some friendly words with whoever was working.
3. Via Trenta
When I first moved to Astoria, the only Italian restaurant near my was called Cara Bella, and it was fairly old-school - chicken parm and penne alla vodka. Not that that's a bad thing. I would go there and eat alone occasionally, since I didn't know anyone nearby and my roommate and I were not friends. Then, just as I was feeling a bit like a regular, like I had found a comfortable spot to go and eat when I didn't want to stay home, Cara Bella closed without warning. So sad! Now, it's a German restaurant called Max, which I have yet to try, but people seem to like it. In November of 2011, though, Via Trenta opened! And all was right with the world again. It has more modern Italian food - you won't find all the old staples like chicken parm on the menu. But everything is fresh and delicious (I highly recommend the Burrata Pizza. It has truffle oil on it. That should be all anyone ever needs), and there's a great wine list. My sister and I are regulars there now, and the owner and staff are great. It's definitely become a part of my life in Astoria, and I'm so glad it's there!
4. Brooklyn Bagel
Another staple for me. It's actually a local chain, but I go to the one closest to me. On the days I work from home, I often venture there with my laptop. On weekend mornings it's packed, and it's easy to see why. They have a bacon-scallion cream cheese. Need I say more?
5. Wholesale Furniture
So far, this list has been all food and wine. So you can see my priorities! But the first day I moved in, I discovered the wholesale furniture places on Steinway. I needed a new bed, and was planning to spend the first week on my air mattress. But, when I went into the mattress place on the corner of Steinway and 30th Ave, I found a bed I liked right away, and learned that not only was the price negotiable, but that they could deliver the bed that very day! There are a number of these stores on Steinway, and this past January I bought my new futon from one of them, negotiating the price and everything. It sounds a little sketchy, but the service is actually really good in the little experience I've had.
6. Trade Fair
Yeah, I'm back to food. I live more or less next door to a Trade Fair supermarket, and it's open 24 hours. If I want to make cookies at 3 AM and need to buy eggs, I can do that. This particular store felt a bit disorganized and limited at first, and I found myself venturing a few blocks west to Key Foods. But that was only because I didn't fully grasp how Trade Fair worked. There is actually a huge selection of specialized ingredients, but they're divided up according to ethnicity! Once I figured out that I had to go to the Italian section for Arborio rice for my risotto, rather than the general "rice" section, for example, I was all set. A lot of the products there are like that. Once I figured out the system, I felt liked I'd cracked a code. Trade Fair suddenly felt like a much larger and richer place! Now, I rarely venture to Key Foods.
7. People's front yards.
Nowhere else that I've lived in NYC have the buildings had little front yards with grass and trees or just gardens. My landlady keeps a garden in front of the building I live in (a two-family house - I live on the 2nd floor). I love coming home and seeing the flowers and vegetables in the spring and summer. And people do really interesting things with their yards. Sometimes there are neat little shrines to the Virgin Mary; sometimes there are overflowing lilac bushes - the smell hits you as you walk past, and it's lovely (lilac is one of my favorite smells).
8. Saint Michael's Cemetery
This huge cemetery is a couple of blocks from me. I once read that Astoria is the most ethnically diverse neighborhood in the country, and Saint Michael's really highlights this diversity. I've gone there with my camera or just to take a walk several times. It's a peaceful place, and has old mausoleums and headstones going back to the mid-nineteenth century all the way up to the present. It's an interesting way to see how the populations have changed, and also the different ways people honor their loved ones. One of the most poignant memorials there is a statue of a WWI soldier who was killed in action.
9. My Apartment
My apartment is such a happy place! Ever since my roommate moved out in January and the new roommate came, it really feels like home. Our living room and kitchen overlook the street, and have my comfy futon, and the Ikea chair I've had ever since the Brooklyn apartment. I've got my slow-cooker in the kitchen and my record player and book shelves in the living room, and my roommate's TV is here, too. Nothing unusual or special, maybe, but it's fun to be here! It's a nice place to come home to at the end of the day, hang out with a friend or two (the ones who will venture to Astoria!), or curl up with a book and play a record on a rainy Saturday. Whenever I eventually leave Astoria, this is probably the place I'll miss most of all.
So there's my list of things I love about Astoria. There are definitely more things that I love, but these are the ones I thought of immediately - the little things that make this neighborhood unique. Check them out if you visit! (Maybe not my apartment, unless I know you already).
Friday, May 24, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
'Persuasion' and Communication
I've been thinking a bit about love lately. Well, relationships more specifically, and what makes them work or fail. And how one can sometimes completely misread people. In my most recent relationship, which lasted a year, communication just fell apart at some point. I don't want to get too detailed here, but essentially, my boyfriend of a year abandoned me for a Swiss hedge fund. But communication had been a mess before that, for all kinds of reasons.
But it's OK. I've had a lot to throw myself into. And in a way it's just one of many stressful things that have happened lately, and once I got over the initial anger and sadness, I found that I wasn't too broken up about it, though I still feel angry and confused thinking about certain parts of it, in a way that I haven't for any other exes. I think with most break ups, I tend to feel like either both people played fairly, or it's just a tremendous relief to be out of the relationship. Not so when someone hasn't been communicative, though. But life goes on.
Of course these things always work out better in books. My favorite love scene in all of literature is in Jane Austen's Persuasion. It's the scene with the letter, near the end. Warning. If you keep reading this, there will be spoilers. The book is 200 years old, but maybe you haven't read it and don't want to be spoiled. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot is 27 years old, and "on the shelf." It was the nineteenth-century, so 27 was ancient to be unmarried. But Anne was once in love with a young sailor named Frederick Wentworth, who wanted to marry her years before. Anne's family and friends thought the match beneath her, though, and she doesn't marry him. There are also valid reasons she has for refusing him, but he goes away believing her to have been talked out of it. Through a series of events, Frederick comes back into Anne's life, now a captain, rich and successful, while Anne's family is in debt and must economize. And through the bulk of the novel, Anne and Frederick barely speak. But they gradually begin to soften towards one another again, and it becomes - very gradually - clear to the reader that they still have strong feelings for one another. But neither acknowledges it for a maddeningly long time. And then events conspire to keep them apart for awhile. I won't give away the whole plot. But! Anne has to go and join her family in Bath, and guess who turns up? And he's still trying to discern her feelings and intentions (will she marry her cousin everyone knows is bad news? Will Frederick face rejection yet again?). Social convention, pride, and fear keep them from declaring themselves. But the tension builds maddeningly toward the end of the novel, and though Austen's novels are known for their marital endings, one still worries that they won't just spit it out and get together already.
Until the scene with the letter. This scene is all about communicating the deepest possible feelings, and so much rides on this communication being successful. And it is, even though the two don't even speak to each other! They are in a room with other people, friends and acquaintances. There is no privacy. Frederick sits ostensibly writing a letter of business, and Anne talks to his friend Captain Harville about whether men or women get over lost love faster (Anne argues that men do). After a little while, Frederick gets up and leaves. But that's far from the end. I'll quote the scene below:
She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before Mrs. Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant!
The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond expression. The letter, with the direction hardly legible, to "Miss A. E. - " was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than suspense. Mrs. Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:
"I can no longer listen in silence, I must speak to you by which means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constance among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F.W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I hall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."
So, obviously this ends well. But oh, the torture leading up to it. All the uncertainty and occasional miscommunication. I love that Frederick finally decides that enough is enough, and that some sort of direct communication is necessary. Even if it's done in the most indirect way possible. And I love that Anne has been subtly telling him that she's not over him. Even if she was doing it subconsciously. And he knows her well enough now to read all the signals she's been sending, and he is brave enough to just go for it (finally). Anne is also a heroine I like because, though very much of her time, doesn't lack a backbone. She stops letting her family silence her, and she chooses the future she wants at the end (and by that point it's far from her only option). Of course by the end of the novel things are still a little uncertain - Frederick might have to leave Anne again should there be another war. But in all the important ways, it's a happy ending. They're certain of how they feel and they are brave enough to seize a future together.
I think relationships need good communication, but also a certain amount of courage if they're going to last. At some point one just has to take a chance, even if it doesn't work out in the end. By the end of Persuasion, both Anne and Frederick have matured and grown enough to know this, and they're still young enough to want to do it. And I do know that one can't really read Austen as a relationship-guide for the 21st century, and this little post hasn't done justice to how rich and complex this novel is (it's really about so much more than a romance). But there are certainly some lessons to be learned here. And even if there aren't, it's a really good read.
But it's OK. I've had a lot to throw myself into. And in a way it's just one of many stressful things that have happened lately, and once I got over the initial anger and sadness, I found that I wasn't too broken up about it, though I still feel angry and confused thinking about certain parts of it, in a way that I haven't for any other exes. I think with most break ups, I tend to feel like either both people played fairly, or it's just a tremendous relief to be out of the relationship. Not so when someone hasn't been communicative, though. But life goes on.
Of course these things always work out better in books. My favorite love scene in all of literature is in Jane Austen's Persuasion. It's the scene with the letter, near the end. Warning. If you keep reading this, there will be spoilers. The book is 200 years old, but maybe you haven't read it and don't want to be spoiled. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot is 27 years old, and "on the shelf." It was the nineteenth-century, so 27 was ancient to be unmarried. But Anne was once in love with a young sailor named Frederick Wentworth, who wanted to marry her years before. Anne's family and friends thought the match beneath her, though, and she doesn't marry him. There are also valid reasons she has for refusing him, but he goes away believing her to have been talked out of it. Through a series of events, Frederick comes back into Anne's life, now a captain, rich and successful, while Anne's family is in debt and must economize. And through the bulk of the novel, Anne and Frederick barely speak. But they gradually begin to soften towards one another again, and it becomes - very gradually - clear to the reader that they still have strong feelings for one another. But neither acknowledges it for a maddeningly long time. And then events conspire to keep them apart for awhile. I won't give away the whole plot. But! Anne has to go and join her family in Bath, and guess who turns up? And he's still trying to discern her feelings and intentions (will she marry her cousin everyone knows is bad news? Will Frederick face rejection yet again?). Social convention, pride, and fear keep them from declaring themselves. But the tension builds maddeningly toward the end of the novel, and though Austen's novels are known for their marital endings, one still worries that they won't just spit it out and get together already.
Until the scene with the letter. This scene is all about communicating the deepest possible feelings, and so much rides on this communication being successful. And it is, even though the two don't even speak to each other! They are in a room with other people, friends and acquaintances. There is no privacy. Frederick sits ostensibly writing a letter of business, and Anne talks to his friend Captain Harville about whether men or women get over lost love faster (Anne argues that men do). After a little while, Frederick gets up and leaves. But that's far from the end. I'll quote the scene below:
She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before Mrs. Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant!
The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond expression. The letter, with the direction hardly legible, to "Miss A. E. - " was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than suspense. Mrs. Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:
"I can no longer listen in silence, I must speak to you by which means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constance among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F.W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I hall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."
So, obviously this ends well. But oh, the torture leading up to it. All the uncertainty and occasional miscommunication. I love that Frederick finally decides that enough is enough, and that some sort of direct communication is necessary. Even if it's done in the most indirect way possible. And I love that Anne has been subtly telling him that she's not over him. Even if she was doing it subconsciously. And he knows her well enough now to read all the signals she's been sending, and he is brave enough to just go for it (finally). Anne is also a heroine I like because, though very much of her time, doesn't lack a backbone. She stops letting her family silence her, and she chooses the future she wants at the end (and by that point it's far from her only option). Of course by the end of the novel things are still a little uncertain - Frederick might have to leave Anne again should there be another war. But in all the important ways, it's a happy ending. They're certain of how they feel and they are brave enough to seize a future together.
I think relationships need good communication, but also a certain amount of courage if they're going to last. At some point one just has to take a chance, even if it doesn't work out in the end. By the end of Persuasion, both Anne and Frederick have matured and grown enough to know this, and they're still young enough to want to do it. And I do know that one can't really read Austen as a relationship-guide for the 21st century, and this little post hasn't done justice to how rich and complex this novel is (it's really about so much more than a romance). But there are certainly some lessons to be learned here. And even if there aren't, it's a really good read.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
A week on crutches - Some short observations and advice for bystanders
First - I am very fortunate that my injury (a sprained ankle) is very temporary. So I'll just say that to start off. I spent the past week hobbling around NYC on crutches (though admittedly I spent more time on my sofa with my leg propped up, watching episodes of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report). I don't claim to have any insight whatsoever into what it's like to deal with something like this on a long-term basis. But I have observed a few things just from being out and about in the city, trying to get from point A to B to C and back to A. So the following list of things to do and not to do for someone on crutches (or with some obvious mobility issue) pertains really only to my own experience. Other people might think differently about it. But it's something to think about.
1. Do offer to help. I didn't always feel like asking for help, but when people offered to carry things for me in the grocery store, or get a drink for me at dinner, or in my roommate's case, run downstairs and get my seamless.com delivery, I really appreciated it. I also really appreciated not having to ask.
2. If help is refused, don't insist. The other night, I was slowly making my way up a short flight of stairs. A well-meaning man said he wanted to help me. I really didn't want help. I was very carefully balancing, and it took some concentration. He insisted, and in spite of my saying "no" repeatedly, came and took my arm anyway and more or less forcibly helped me up the stairs. I felt off-balance and a little panicked. I was actually glad when he let go and it was once more just me and my crutches.
3. Do offer your seat on the bus or subway. Seriously. This one should be obvious. It was always obvious to me before this happened, and it's even more obvious now. And most people get it. But there are a few that don't. Particularly on the Queens bound N train at 4:30 in the afternoon. (Likewise, if you are the one for whom someone gives up a seat, say "thank you." Those seats can be hard to come by, and the person giving it up might have been really tired and glad to have it).
4. Don't run ahead and grab the seat nearest the door when someone on crutches is right behind you. I am balancing on one foot and two metal poles. I want to sit down as soon as possible. I think some people do this without thinking, but it is really annoying.
5. It's OK to ask what happened, if you want to. Don't force someone to stand and talk to you forever, though, or try to use the person's injury to sell her something (so tacky). I met some nice people who were just curious and maybe had their own stories to share. I've had far more conversations with homeless people in the past week than I have had in the past decade, which is probably not a bad thing. The exception to all of this was the rep from the cable company who asked me what happened, and then proceeded to draw me into a long conversation in which she tried to get me to upgrade my cable subscription. Again - one foot, two metal poles. And it was cold out. Every time I said I had to go, she would draw me back in somehow. I know I should have just walked away and let her deal with it, but I'm not especially capable of doing that (too programmed to be polite, I think).
6. Finally ... DON'T STEAL SOMEONE'S CAB. Whereas some of these other things were merely annoying, this one filled me with rage. A deep, primal rage. It was done so blatantly, too. The people looked at me and ran for the cab and jumped in before I could get to it, even though I had hailed it.
7. Do offer to hail a cab for someone. A couple of people did this for me on the days I was having the most trouble. I really appreciated it.
So that's it for now. I'm sure I'll think of more, but these are some of the big ones I've noticed. And, I'm happy to say that as of today I am off the crutches and in an air-cast. I have to wear it for the next four weeks, but my mobility is drastically improved. Meanwhile, I learned a lot about getting around this city, and getting around in general, without full mobility. It hasn't been fun, but it certainly has given me more empathy for those who deal with these issues (and many much worse) on a daily basis.
1. Do offer to help. I didn't always feel like asking for help, but when people offered to carry things for me in the grocery store, or get a drink for me at dinner, or in my roommate's case, run downstairs and get my seamless.com delivery, I really appreciated it. I also really appreciated not having to ask.
2. If help is refused, don't insist. The other night, I was slowly making my way up a short flight of stairs. A well-meaning man said he wanted to help me. I really didn't want help. I was very carefully balancing, and it took some concentration. He insisted, and in spite of my saying "no" repeatedly, came and took my arm anyway and more or less forcibly helped me up the stairs. I felt off-balance and a little panicked. I was actually glad when he let go and it was once more just me and my crutches.
3. Do offer your seat on the bus or subway. Seriously. This one should be obvious. It was always obvious to me before this happened, and it's even more obvious now. And most people get it. But there are a few that don't. Particularly on the Queens bound N train at 4:30 in the afternoon. (Likewise, if you are the one for whom someone gives up a seat, say "thank you." Those seats can be hard to come by, and the person giving it up might have been really tired and glad to have it).
4. Don't run ahead and grab the seat nearest the door when someone on crutches is right behind you. I am balancing on one foot and two metal poles. I want to sit down as soon as possible. I think some people do this without thinking, but it is really annoying.
5. It's OK to ask what happened, if you want to. Don't force someone to stand and talk to you forever, though, or try to use the person's injury to sell her something (so tacky). I met some nice people who were just curious and maybe had their own stories to share. I've had far more conversations with homeless people in the past week than I have had in the past decade, which is probably not a bad thing. The exception to all of this was the rep from the cable company who asked me what happened, and then proceeded to draw me into a long conversation in which she tried to get me to upgrade my cable subscription. Again - one foot, two metal poles. And it was cold out. Every time I said I had to go, she would draw me back in somehow. I know I should have just walked away and let her deal with it, but I'm not especially capable of doing that (too programmed to be polite, I think).
6. Finally ... DON'T STEAL SOMEONE'S CAB. Whereas some of these other things were merely annoying, this one filled me with rage. A deep, primal rage. It was done so blatantly, too. The people looked at me and ran for the cab and jumped in before I could get to it, even though I had hailed it.
7. Do offer to hail a cab for someone. A couple of people did this for me on the days I was having the most trouble. I really appreciated it.
So that's it for now. I'm sure I'll think of more, but these are some of the big ones I've noticed. And, I'm happy to say that as of today I am off the crutches and in an air-cast. I have to wear it for the next four weeks, but my mobility is drastically improved. Meanwhile, I learned a lot about getting around this city, and getting around in general, without full mobility. It hasn't been fun, but it certainly has given me more empathy for those who deal with these issues (and many much worse) on a daily basis.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Crutches are Not Fun, and New Yorkers are Nosy (in a mostly good way)
Last Friday, I had a terrible day. After having a not-so-great day at work, my friend and I decided to go and have a drink in the New York Botanical Gardens. It was a beautiful day, and we needed to unwind a little. My plan was to sit for an hour and then go home, where I had errands to run and other things to do.
The Garden Cafe was in sight. We had turned the corner onto the little sidewalk that leads up to it. And then ... my ankle bent and I fell over. That's right. I didn't even make it to the wine. I fell on the way to it. Not fair. At first I thought I'd be fine - that the pain would pass in a second - and then I saw a balloon forming on my ankle. And I think I screamed. It hurt - oh, so much.
People were very helpful. Some of the cafe customers, one of whom was a physical therapist, came over and brought a chair and got help. Security was called. Transportation was arranged ... but the ER was in my immediate future. Incidentally, we had to wait a bit for transportation, because the security person was otherwise occupied evicting someone from the gardens who had been publicly urinating. Lovely. Good old NYC.
So I got a (read this in a sarcastic tone) fun ambulance ride for the second time in my life, and got to spend the next four hours in the ER at Saint Barnabas in the Bronx. I will say this - that ER was surprisingly efficient, as ER's go, and I speak from some experience, both my emergencies and my trips keeping friends company. I was there for about four hours, and my friend was able to stay with me, for which I was very grateful. Things kept happening, though. I was checked in, examined, medicated (good old Motrin), x-rayed, etc. Not too much waiting in between things, for which I was pretty grateful. Someone did mistakenly check off on my chart that I was African American at one point, which does not inspire a great deal of confidence in that person's powers of observation, but the mistake was soon corrected.
The results of the x-rays came. It was a bad sprain, and I was not to put any weight on it for a week or so (and no hiking for a few months! And the weather is finally perfect for it!). I'm a little confused, actually, because the written instructions I was given say to wait until I see the podiatrist at my follow up appointment, but that isn't until May 7. Well over a week. But the doctor said a week. And it matters, because I have a busy weekend coming up and I REALLY hate crutches. Hate them. I know I'm really very lucky because this could have been much worse. Some people have to put up with crutches for weeks or even months, and some people have permanent difficulty walking. So in that way I'm very fortunate. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to complain about how much crutches suck in the meantime.
Crutches suck. First, my cab ride home after going to the hospital was ridiculously expensive. I'm almost sure I got the "crutches rate" - in other words, I had no choice about taking the cab because I wasn't about to attempt the subway five minutes after being given the things. Also - my upper body strength leaves a lot to be desired, so my arms have been killing me. They hurt worse than the ankle does. So this makes it really hard to go very far on the crutches. I've been taking a lot of cabs.
I didn't leave my apartment for the first two days. I live in a second-floor walk-up, and stairs are hard. I'm getting better at them, and down is easier than up, but I have to go really slowly and it's scary. I can't sweep my kitchen floor and it's driving me crazy. And I did manage to scrub out my bathtub (not that I can take a shower or anything) the other night, but I ended up covered in bleach stains (it was almost worth it, though - the tub looks so much better).
On Monday, I decided that I needed to wash my hair. I couldn't get in the shower and do this myself - I can't get water on the whole apparatus my ankle is wrapped in. So I called a car service to take me 12 blocks. I had lunch, and then hobbled another couple of blocks to the hair salon, where I got a cut and wash. Complete bliss.
So here's what I've noticed about being out on the street with crutches. New Yorkers, erroneously thought by many Americans to be unfriendly, will actually take any opportunity to talk to people. Also, New Yorkers love to give advice and share their opinions. The crutches made me an easy mark for this. They were a conversation piece. I had people stop and ask me what happened. People offered to help. People told me I was using them wrong. I ran into another woman on crutches and we bonded. This was all in about four blocks as I limped/hopped/hobbled down the street. One guy was particularly helpful - he told me the bar on the crutches I was gripping with my hands needed to be higher, which would make things a little easier on my arms. I suspected he was right, but I didn't want to take them apart on my own and not be able to fix them, so a colleague ended up helping me at work on Tuesday, and it is better.
Going to work on Tuesday was my first opportunity to use public transportation since I got hurt. I got a car service to the bus. The bus to the Metro North at 125th Street, and the Metro North to the Bronx. It was a huge pain, but I was happy I did it. I normally would take the subway to work, but there are no handicap accessible subway stations near me in Queens, or near my work in the Bronx. My best bet was bus and commuter rail, and those things did work out all right. But I have tremendous sympathy for those who are actually disabled and rely on public transportation - a lot of local subway stations simply don't cut it as far as accessibility. Also, while most people are really nice and want to help, some people are just plain clueless. On my return Metro North trip, a woman hurried to get onto the train in front of me (fine - I can't blame her for that) but then grabbed the seat nearest the door, that I had been eying for myself (it was one of the four-seater ones, where I'd have room to put my crutches). I was in a bad mood at that point, and my arms really hurt, so rather than asking nicely for her to move, I gave her a kind of evil look and said "Really? Thanks," and started to move past. She got up. It wasn't my finest moment, and she was probably just clueless, but I was not feeling super patient.
But most New Yorkers really do just want to help. The hair salon said I could come back just for a wash, which is awesome. I'll probably do that today.
This is also, in some ways, rather ironic for me. I am now the slowest person on the block, whereas I used to be the person who got impatient with people who strolled leisurely along and took up the entire sidewalk (to be fair, I made an exception for the elderly and people with crutches, canes, wheelchairs, etc. My impatience more had to do with people who were just merrily chatting away on their phones or with their friends and wouldn't let anyone else get by them). Anyway, now everyone is faster than I am, and it is super annoying. I think it also really irks my latent competitive streak - I have a compulsive need to move faster than everybody else when I'm out walking or even running for the train or whatever. I know it's weird. I think it's symptomatic of living in a large city and not wanting to get swallowed up by a crowd or something. I know other people with the same quirk.
But as long as all goes well, I won't be on the crutches much longer. And really, I don't have a lot to legitimately complain about (again, though - that won't stop me. New Yorkers like to complain, and I've been here for a decade, so I count myself amongst the ranks of New Yorkers). I have learned a lot from this experience though, and I'm still learning. But in the meantime - crutches are not fun, and I'm glad New Yorkers are nosy.
The Garden Cafe was in sight. We had turned the corner onto the little sidewalk that leads up to it. And then ... my ankle bent and I fell over. That's right. I didn't even make it to the wine. I fell on the way to it. Not fair. At first I thought I'd be fine - that the pain would pass in a second - and then I saw a balloon forming on my ankle. And I think I screamed. It hurt - oh, so much.
People were very helpful. Some of the cafe customers, one of whom was a physical therapist, came over and brought a chair and got help. Security was called. Transportation was arranged ... but the ER was in my immediate future. Incidentally, we had to wait a bit for transportation, because the security person was otherwise occupied evicting someone from the gardens who had been publicly urinating. Lovely. Good old NYC.
So I got a (read this in a sarcastic tone) fun ambulance ride for the second time in my life, and got to spend the next four hours in the ER at Saint Barnabas in the Bronx. I will say this - that ER was surprisingly efficient, as ER's go, and I speak from some experience, both my emergencies and my trips keeping friends company. I was there for about four hours, and my friend was able to stay with me, for which I was very grateful. Things kept happening, though. I was checked in, examined, medicated (good old Motrin), x-rayed, etc. Not too much waiting in between things, for which I was pretty grateful. Someone did mistakenly check off on my chart that I was African American at one point, which does not inspire a great deal of confidence in that person's powers of observation, but the mistake was soon corrected.
Crutches suck. First, my cab ride home after going to the hospital was ridiculously expensive. I'm almost sure I got the "crutches rate" - in other words, I had no choice about taking the cab because I wasn't about to attempt the subway five minutes after being given the things. Also - my upper body strength leaves a lot to be desired, so my arms have been killing me. They hurt worse than the ankle does. So this makes it really hard to go very far on the crutches. I've been taking a lot of cabs.
I didn't leave my apartment for the first two days. I live in a second-floor walk-up, and stairs are hard. I'm getting better at them, and down is easier than up, but I have to go really slowly and it's scary. I can't sweep my kitchen floor and it's driving me crazy. And I did manage to scrub out my bathtub (not that I can take a shower or anything) the other night, but I ended up covered in bleach stains (it was almost worth it, though - the tub looks so much better).
On Monday, I decided that I needed to wash my hair. I couldn't get in the shower and do this myself - I can't get water on the whole apparatus my ankle is wrapped in. So I called a car service to take me 12 blocks. I had lunch, and then hobbled another couple of blocks to the hair salon, where I got a cut and wash. Complete bliss.
So here's what I've noticed about being out on the street with crutches. New Yorkers, erroneously thought by many Americans to be unfriendly, will actually take any opportunity to talk to people. Also, New Yorkers love to give advice and share their opinions. The crutches made me an easy mark for this. They were a conversation piece. I had people stop and ask me what happened. People offered to help. People told me I was using them wrong. I ran into another woman on crutches and we bonded. This was all in about four blocks as I limped/hopped/hobbled down the street. One guy was particularly helpful - he told me the bar on the crutches I was gripping with my hands needed to be higher, which would make things a little easier on my arms. I suspected he was right, but I didn't want to take them apart on my own and not be able to fix them, so a colleague ended up helping me at work on Tuesday, and it is better.
Going to work on Tuesday was my first opportunity to use public transportation since I got hurt. I got a car service to the bus. The bus to the Metro North at 125th Street, and the Metro North to the Bronx. It was a huge pain, but I was happy I did it. I normally would take the subway to work, but there are no handicap accessible subway stations near me in Queens, or near my work in the Bronx. My best bet was bus and commuter rail, and those things did work out all right. But I have tremendous sympathy for those who are actually disabled and rely on public transportation - a lot of local subway stations simply don't cut it as far as accessibility. Also, while most people are really nice and want to help, some people are just plain clueless. On my return Metro North trip, a woman hurried to get onto the train in front of me (fine - I can't blame her for that) but then grabbed the seat nearest the door, that I had been eying for myself (it was one of the four-seater ones, where I'd have room to put my crutches). I was in a bad mood at that point, and my arms really hurt, so rather than asking nicely for her to move, I gave her a kind of evil look and said "Really? Thanks," and started to move past. She got up. It wasn't my finest moment, and she was probably just clueless, but I was not feeling super patient.
But most New Yorkers really do just want to help. The hair salon said I could come back just for a wash, which is awesome. I'll probably do that today.
This is also, in some ways, rather ironic for me. I am now the slowest person on the block, whereas I used to be the person who got impatient with people who strolled leisurely along and took up the entire sidewalk (to be fair, I made an exception for the elderly and people with crutches, canes, wheelchairs, etc. My impatience more had to do with people who were just merrily chatting away on their phones or with their friends and wouldn't let anyone else get by them). Anyway, now everyone is faster than I am, and it is super annoying. I think it also really irks my latent competitive streak - I have a compulsive need to move faster than everybody else when I'm out walking or even running for the train or whatever. I know it's weird. I think it's symptomatic of living in a large city and not wanting to get swallowed up by a crowd or something. I know other people with the same quirk.
But as long as all goes well, I won't be on the crutches much longer. And really, I don't have a lot to legitimately complain about (again, though - that won't stop me. New Yorkers like to complain, and I've been here for a decade, so I count myself amongst the ranks of New Yorkers). I have learned a lot from this experience though, and I'm still learning. But in the meantime - crutches are not fun, and I'm glad New Yorkers are nosy.
I can't carry stuff around for the most part, so I've had to be creative. I have my travel money-pouch for my money, phone, and keys. No purses for awhile!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)