NYC: Month 1 reflections

Written earlier on UA 19 from JFK to SFO


Three distracting thoughts:
1) I've been in NYC for a month!?
2) I only have time to write inflight. And it's always flight 19. Sad.
3) At least my footrest isn't broken this time.

It's amazing how fast time flies. George is now five months old (!), and I've officially been a New York City resident for a month (well, plus or minus two days, but who's counting, right). I can wax poetic about how the season is changing and summer is upon us, and blah blah blah, but that would just be more words to hide the fact that, well, I don't have a lot to update.

The fact that I'm on flight 19 means that I'm headed to San Francisco again. Yep, I was just there less than two weeks ago. And I'll be back again in less than two weeks. I assure you that the irony of the situation is not lost on me. Of course I happen to be driving a project at work that's based in SF right after I move. And of course, I have to fly back and forth even before the last boxes are unpacked at my new apartment. (For those keeping track, there are still 6 boxes. No progress in nearly 2 weeks. Yikes!)

And with what little actual time I have left in NYC, I'm trying to adapt to my new city. For example, like every proper New Yorker, I left the city for Memorial Day long weekend to officially kick off summer. I didn't go to the Hamptons, but the Hudson River Valley comes a close second in terms of nearby escapes. And it has better food. And like every New Yorker, I felt that being in the suburbs for 48 hours somehow "rejuvenated" me but was then inexplicably relieved to return to a place where you willingly trade tranquility for 24-hour Duane Reade's and free delivery from any restaurant.

Speaking of delivery, I've now officially ordered more takeout in the last month than I have the entire previous year combined. Some have been stellar (Blossom vegetarian) and others less than stellar (Grand Sichuan Chinese). I also happily fork over three dollars for a smallish red velvet cupcake from Billy's almost every other day. (Damn them for being on my way home from work.)

A few updates from my last reflections post:
-I have monitor risers at work now. But I've also already moved offices. No joke.

-Still no doctor yet. Nor PT for that matter. American healthcare sucks.

-My shoes have been resoled, though by my peeps in SF when I was last in town. At least I can walk again, right? :)

-George hasn't learned any new behaviours, but he's getting better about not picking up random pieces of paper on the street. He really really really likes paper. Perhaps I should write to Cesar Millan. I hear he's one of my followers on Twitter.

-I haven't crossed town (except to get to the airport) since my last post. And have no plans to anytime soon.

This is the part of the flight when I should be getting those chocolate chip cookies, and also when my laptop battery is about to die (left my power adapter in my suitcase, of course). Words cannot express how glad I am that #2 on the upgrade list didn't show so I got his/her spot. Flying across the country every other week is a bit less rough if you don't have to sit in the back. :)

NYC: Week 1 reflections

Written earlier on UA 19 from JFK to SFO

My feet are swollen, and my footrest is broken. Pardon me for being distracted, but that's the first and primary preoccupation right now.

A little over a week after I moved to New York, I'm on a plane to San Francisco. Notice the lack of the use of the word "back" in the previous sentence. I'm making a conscious effort to not call SF "home" or that I'm going "back" because it's simply not true. I live in New York now. My home is there. It still feels weird saying that, but after a week of filling out forms and repeating my address to salespeople and takeout people, it's hard to not think that way.

I've done a lot this past week. I've unpacked 50 out of 56 boxes, bought and assembled a bed, ordered a sofa and accessories, and had not one or two, but three radiator repair sessions. I guess better to fix it now than when I really need it this winter, right?

Right, that's all good and well, but how do I *feel*? Honestly, I don't feel anything yet. It's not like I went in awaiting this huge epiphany, but I think that's what everyone else expects to happen, given the allure and mystique that surrounds arguably the most exciting city in the world. This first week has just been focused on getting settled: finding new nooks and crannies for the copious amounts of stuff I have gathered over 6 years of post-college living, establishing a routine for me and George, and securing basic services so we can live life more like urbanites and less like homeless nomads. Oh, and then there's that whole work thing, too. Despite how "seamless" they want to make you feel about transfers at work, they didn't have anything set up for me when I arrived, and I ended up having to request everything from a chair to monitor risers (the latter of which I still don't have).

I've also spent a lot of time exploring my neighbourhood, mostly during very long walks with George. I've basically reallocated the 2.5 hours I used to have each day for my commute to taking walks and hanging out with George -- which as far as I can tell, has done a lot for both of us in terms of lowering stress levels and increasing bonding. He's already learned "down" and "stay", two behaviours he was unable to do when we were in SF. Of course, there's also that blog. ;) I've found that George has made it much easier to settle into the city -- people are simply friendlier and more welcoming when they see him, so I may or may not have milked that a bit this past week. I do feel bad that I've brought him to a place where even the highest rated dog run doesn't have grass, but I think the sheer number of dogs in our neighbourhood makes up for this.

Chelsea is an interesting place -- sort of reminds me of a mini SF, filled with lots of yuppie, dog-loving people, lots of gay people, and lots of good food. (Case in my point, 4 of out the 4 neighbours that I've met on my floor are gay men who own dogs.) In my short time in NYC, I've definitely developed a heightened sense of neighbourhood bias, though. There's this strong desire to shop in, and be uber-local -- basically, you stick to your own 'hood. I've only gone uptown twice, and both were terrible furniture shopping experiences. I also dread crossing town, and both times were for equally alluring activities that I couldn't do in my chunk of Manhattan (the greenmarket at Union Square, and eating in the East Village).

So what am I missing?

My friends from SF -- I miss you dearly. Thanks to technology, I feel like I've kept in touch with most of your during my transition this past week, so I'm grateful for that.

My doctors and PTs -- this sounds weird, but you have no idea how hard it is to find good yet available medical services in NYC, especially if you have the aforementioned neighbourhood bias. I've heard that Dr. Lee and his crew at Metropolitan Medical Group are expanding to NYC in September, and let's just say I can't wait!

Yoga -- I've walked so much in this past week (maybe more than in 6 months in SF combined), but I need to get back into my yoga routine, especially to get back on track with my shoulder rehab.

My "people" -- don't laugh. Everyone has their "people", even if you don't want to admit it. They're the go-to shoe guy/manicurist/deli guy/esthetician/masseur/takeout joint/salespeople, etc. that make your life easier. My flats need to be re-soled, my back is sore, and my nails look destroyed. I miss you all. I need to get on top of finding new "people". I've got a promising manicurist, but she's more than one subway stop away. LOL.

All righty, they made me feel better about my broken footrest by giving me a mileage coupon and warm chocolate cookies, but I think that's my cue to pack up and get ready to land. In my old home. It's good to see you, San Francisco.

A new chapter

Too tired to write a lot right now. The boxes are packed, the extras have been stored away. George is passed out (and presumably happily) in his crate, and I'm settling into my seat on my first-ever one-way journey to NYC. It was weird seeing the apartment cleared out for the first time in 6 years. The skyline outside my windows had changed slightly, the decor had changed slightly, and my life has changed, well, a lot. But I suppose that's what life is about. Change. I'm ready for it. I hope you're ready for me, New York.

Trading two bridges for three, plus a couple of tunnels, too

So the cat is out of the bag. I'm moving to New York.

There, I said it. Despite how much of a surprise it was to many tonight and the past few days, it's still pretty raw and new to me as well. And my deepest apologies to those I have not had a chance to tell in person. In the past two weeks, I've gone from die-hard SF resident to finding a new home in NYC and looking for a puppy to bring along for the adventure. Perhaps I'm having a mid-life crisis. Or maybe it's my destiny. I don't know which, but I guess it doesn't really matter.

A part of me has been changed forever by San Francisco. I have found amazing friendships; laughed and cried; loved and lost. But now, it's time to move on. I don't suppose I'll ever know if this is the best decision, but I know that the decision is right for right now.

I've been wearing this Maya Brenner necklace for a while -- it's called "bi-coastal" -- but tonight it felt much more appropriate and bittersweet than ever before. Every time I touch it, I will think of you, San Francisco; of all of my friends who have made this place become home for me, and who made it so much more difficult to summon up the courage to leave. I am forever indebted to your love, generosity, and kindness. I'll remember our times together, good and bad, and treasure them forever.

And so, a new adventure begin in about 40 days...stay tuned.

Home is where the love is

(written earlier tonight during UA 863 from JFK to SFO)

Anyone who's known me for a while knows that I've always struggled with the concepts of "home" and "belonging". Other than the normal anxieties surrounding identity and cross-cultural immersion that come with every immigrant child's experience, I've tacked onto that a somewhat transient lifestyle that has taken me to over 20 countries and 100+ cities over the last 10 years. In the last year alone, I spent over half of my weekends out of town -- basically anywhere else but at home. And though my "home" has been San Francisco for the last 5+ years, it still takes me a split second to process and another one or two sentences to explain to any stranger where I'm "from".

But in the last few months, one thing has become clear -- home doesn't refer to a physical place, but rather an emotional place where you feel unconditionally welcome, happy, and safe. In the company of my family and my friends in Vancouver, San Francisco, New York and beyond, I've found home. My physical residence is just an address. Love is what makes any place a home. I am grateful to everyone who has formed a part of my home. You have all showed me that when a major part of my "home" fell apart with a breakup, you are all more than able and willing to make up the difference. You've also reminded me that love doesn't always or only come in the romantic form. And for that I thank you.

And as I think of all of you while I type this note somewhere over the continent on a flight to San francisco, I already feel like I've come home...

Faster than a New York minute

And so, it's come to my last night here in NYC. This "longest ever" trip to New York also seemed to pass by the fastest. Perhaps it's because I got to mix both work and play. I got to see friends more than once, and even spent time in Jersey. I'm grateful for the friends both old and new who continue to keep our friendship strong despite my parachute-style drop-in's into this city -- you guys are the best!

And as the night sets in, I'm having a Sara Bareilles moment, as they so often happen in the late hours. The eerily beautiful and haunting words of this song are stuck in my head right now...

Gravity - by Sara Bareilles

Something always brings me back to you.

It never takes too long.

No matter what I say or do 

I'll still feel you here 

'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.

You keep me without chains.

I never wanted anything so much 

than to drown in your love 

and not feel your reign.

Set me free, leave me be. 

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.

Here I am and I stand so tall, 

just the way I'm supposed to be.

But you're on to me 

and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.

When I thought that I was strong.

But you touch me for a little while 

and all my fragile strength is gone.

I live here on my knees as I 

try to make you see that you're everything 

I think I need here on the ground.

But you're neither friend nor foe 

though I can't seem to let you go.

The one thing that I still know is that 

you're keeping me down.

Momofuku birthday

Momofuku means "lucky peach"...and of course, also happens to be the name of several highly successful Korean-fusion eateries in NYC. Tonight, I honestly felt like I was the momofuku, if not a "lil" one...haha I'm a dork. In any case, I've never had so much fun turning 25 again. Thanks to R, B, JK, JS, D, and M for spending their Saturday night with me. And although the excitement of my birthday may have been overshadowed by a certain announcement, I am so grateful that I was surrounded by friends, food, and lots of pork love. We ordered the bo ssam, which is an entire pork butt with all of the fixings to create our own ssam wraps. I think I am still having pork coma right now. And of course, dinner was followed by elegant drinks at the W Union Square (ah, the memories!) and then me pooping out from having slept only 4.5 hours last night.

Again. Thank you. I was definitely the momofuku tonight.

Reminiscing: NYC then and now

Yesterday I stepped foot inside the Hilton NYC again, eleven years after the first time I went with my grade 11 classmates for Model United Nations. Eleven years ago, it was the first time I visited New York City, and we were staying at the Hilton for the duration of our trip. Everything about that trip was exciting -- being in the one of the biggest cities in the world with your closest friends, boyfriend, and even a teacher or two. I remembering shooting one of my first photo essays in New York on that trip: the requisite Time Square shot, a homeless lady on a park bench, and a pedestrian weaving his way through a sea of cabs. Little bits and pieces of that trip come back to me now and again...getting ramen, hiding people in the bathroom during bed-check, that little black Armani...

Fast forward to today...things have changed in ways I could not have predicted. This time around, I was at the Hilton to attend a tradeshow for work. New York City is no longer a stranger to me. The city, while still exciting, has be become a tangible reality, as opposed to this almost-mythical place appearing only in movies and TV shows. Other than SF and Vancouver, it's probably the next city that I know best. And yet, there's so much more to be discovered. 

I've been to NYC over twenty times since that fateful trip in grade 11. But this current trip will be the longest consecutive stay I've ever had.  There's something almost fateful about that, but that's a whole different post. All I can say is, I <3 NYC. And there will always be a special place in my heart for this city.