Washington Heights. Somehow I never imagined my first New York experience to look quite like this. As in brown. And Spanish-speaking. In order to save as much money as possible, I signed up for a weekly room rental that, for New York, is dirt cheap. Location really must be everything in real estate, because my neighborhood makes Harlem look fancy. Plus, it's really freakin far away from all the stuff I need, tucked up in the far north-western corner of Manhattan. The room is really nice and big, and has an incredible view from the balcony (perched in the 28th floor), however, I feel like I'm walking through Mexico City when I get out of the subway. But, as you all know, I am a little bit brown under all this whiteness, so as long as the cabrones keep their "hey mami mamis" to themselves, I feel right at home.
I do want to get my own place as soon as possible though. I have never been good at living with people. The family whose extra room I am renting is from the Dominican Republic and they keep trying to feed me, which is nice, but they fry everything! Even the cheese! Which is amazing, by the way. Why don't we fry cheese at home? Anyway, living here with them is fine for the meantime, but as soon as I find a way to start generating some income, I will be scouring Craigslist for a studio or a small one bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan. Or possibly west Brooklyn. As long as I can figure out the subway.
Speaking of the subway, Madrid's shining metro system must have really spoiled me because the New York version makes hardly any sense to me at all. I've about conquered the number 1 train line, but everything else is a mess. Some trains only stop at certain stations, some stations only operate at certain times, certain platforms are closed for maintenance so you can only go in one direction from that station...at least my MetroCard has yet to let me down. $104 per month for unlimited train and bus rides all over the city! Beats the hell out of the $500+ I was spending every month to maintain my car. I'm sure I'll figure it all out eventually. One can only accidently wind up in Yonkers so many times.
Times Square is not on my list of favorite places in New York. Too many freakin tourists. Central Park, however, is. I think I may take my little box of oil pastels with me on a park stroll tomorrow and play artist under a tree somewhere. This park is so big, there are places where you cease to see skyscrapers. Also, I like Rockefeller Center. I think it's because, at any given time, Tina Fey might be inside. And I just love that lady.
It took every ounce of willpower I had to walk out of American Girl Place empty-handed yesterday. Since I was 8 or 9 years old, I have held a strong devotion for Pleasant Company and their slew of overpriced 18 inch dolls. I actually have Felicity, "a spunky young girl growing up in colonial Williamsburg" and quite a few of her accessories. I also subscribed to American Girl magazine until I was at least 15, and spent many a summer evening punching out the paper dolls that came with each issue or making bubble wands out of household materials just like the "do it yourself" section instructed. So when I found the New York store, on the corner of 5th Avenue and 49th Street, I was almost afraid to go inside. I wanted to be a little girl again so that I wouldn't feel like such a goofball drooling over the tiny soccer cleats or doll-sized ukuleles. Yes, they make doll ukuleles. Somehow, I managed to keep the majority of saliva inside my mouth and all my money in my wallet. But all is not lost. I have applied for three open job positions at that store, and employees get a 30% discount! So don't worry, Felicity. I'm sure you'll have a closet-full of new outfits before long. One way or another.
I started my program at the New York Film Academy today. Registration was from 10 till 2, and overachiever that I am, I showed up at 10 to register, which took all of three minutes. So, I had to kill time till orientation at 3. I walked around Union Square, bought some apples, ate one, then found my way to the Strand bookstore, which, for bibliophiles like me, is a giant warehouse of ecstasy. They boast "18 miles of books," many of which are used and cheapish. I bought six, including the first book of my new favorite young adult series The Hunger Games. Seriously, those of you suffering from Harry Potter and Twilight withdrawal, this is your new crack. During orientation, in which all 150 or so of us 8-weekers (15 of which were actually not international students) had to pass around a microphone and introduce ourselves and tell which program we were in, I learned a bit about the academy and started getting real excited. Unfortunately, my classes don't start till Wednesday, and we only have classes three to four days a week, but the days we do go, we're in class from 9am till 5 or 6pm. And the director told us the other days would probably be filled up with working on student projects. I am really excited about this, and I'm gonna work harder than I ever have worked so I will be successful in the film industry. I've never really worked that hard at anything before. Things have always just come naturally to me. And if they didn't come naturally, I didn't do them. I have a feeling this is not going to come as naturally as I'm accustomed to, and I am glad. Things are more valuable if you work really hard for them, you know. I am expecting a full-on bottom kicking, and I can't wait.
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