Day 15: I strike out alone again, only this time to somewhere fun!

Hayou les ami(e)s,

Today was another work day, but comme quand le patron est parti, les souris prendront vacances aussi, and because I had been so tired the day before, I worked from home. It was very nice to sleep in and to work leisurely from a reclining position - something that it's advisable to do as I can't seem to raise the seat of the desk chair AND the floor is at a considerable slope. So to sit at the desk I need to reach up like a child for a cookie jar, and clench numerous muscle groups in order to not go sliding right into the closet. Good exercise perhaps, but not exactly correct in the matter of ergonomics.

Anyhow, I benefitted from the working from home thing to go for a stroll and meet the Atomic Squid on a peaceful courtyard for a bit, but once the workday was done I determined to do something a bit more ambitious, to use up that energy that the commute hadn't devoured. So I headed out into that good evening.

In the end I decanted myself in Greenwich Village and ambled about pleasantly without really knowing where I was going, but eventually more or less orienting myself. It was rather nice I must say to be wandering around somewhere where everyone was gay - doesn't happen too often. At first it made me quite happy and then later sad, thinking how rare it is to feel safe being out and unselfconscious. But better a few places than none. And hey, not getting hit on while walking in a public place wearing summer clothes! What a treat!

My undirected ramblings ended up taking me to the hitherto unknown to me Hudson River Park, a series of little jetties protruding into the well, Hudson River. There was a beautiful sunset sinking into the less-than-beautiful Jersey skyline, it was a pleasant temperature with a cool breeze, there was some informal acoustic guitar show going on singing at that point, Mrs. Robinson. Life was good.

Back into the urbanity, I got turned around a few times (all these triangulated streets!) but ended up successfully heading into the Lower East Side and the small triangle of Japantown: destination Sunrise Market, where I could marvel at all the fancy little food packets, and buy myself a cup I would actually enjoy drinking my morning coffee from. Success: a little lime-green handleless one. Then, even though I had been going to be good and actually cook at home, I had been rambling for hours and was rather hungry, so I stopped at Otafuku for some okonomiyaki. Ah, the wonder that is Japanese street food. Mm. And so home, to the computer, and to bed. The weekend!

Day 14: Oh, you live here too?

(Pictured: a night view from the roof of my building.)

Wherein my roommates and I not only all meet in the hallway at once, but actually go to dinner together! A pleasant time is had by all.

Well perhaps I could elaborate on this. For the first few days that I lived here, I never even saw my second roommate. In the first week, we were only all home and awake at the same time once, for about ten minutes. So you see, to manage to gather all in one place to properly meet each other was an achievement.

We dithered for a bit, but eventually went to a nice Thai place a few blocks down. It was crowded, noisy, in a posh big city glam kind of way, but we sat at the bar with a bottle of Australian shiraz and the wait was not unpleasant. And lo and behold, the recommendation of roommate1 to wait for a table at the back was well, well worth it. We were ushered into a lovely, quiet courtyard with tall trees and glimpses of dark blue sky between the buildings. The food was delicious and we're no longer quite strangers together - a good accomplishment for an evening.

Today was the day that the full exhaustion of the workweek hit me. The commute can vary between 1h20 and 2 hours, depending on connection timing, but add that on each way to a full workday and well...I was very, very tired. Somehow I didn't manage to get to sleep early though. I'm just good like that.

Day 13: Once more into the picnic dear friends once more.

The brave picnic tradition continues with a misplaced.com migration to the park. There is even a babbling brook. And trees! Trees! Trees! (Pictured: Noodle Soup, not on the picnic.)

The Japanese contingent got up an hour early to roll rice balls. Hey, I spent SEVERAL MINUTES chatting with the nice guy who runs the Lebanese bakery, while I bought pita. That's very nearly the same thing.

Much later, the denizens of the Figtree are to be found with me, slurping ramen at a ramen bar in the Lower East Side. There is an unfortunate incident with a total prick who needs to justify his queue-jumping activities with instant attitude. Martial action is debated but eventually tabled with regret. The ramen must always take priority.

Noodle soup, where have you been all my life?!?

Day 12: More adventures in the Outer Limits.

Work. We go to the AFC and return to Target. Which, as all good shoppers now, is properly pronounced tar-ZHAY. Now I have a laundry rack!

Pictured: the feral rabbits that guard the secrecy of our office. Beware! Beware the bunnies!

Note: Yes, that is an actual plastic fork. Bunny to scale. Beware!

Day 11: I strike out alone...

Pictured: My daily uniform.

My first solo commute. Just another day in the office.

Also, I move cubicles. Again. Hey, why not?

Wherein I learn that having a cube with a view of a cube with a windowview is prestigious -- now that I don't have one anymore ;-)

Day 10: We make a fig tart! And other domestic adventures.

We pick many figs, resulting in the above-pictured Mandorlata con fichi.

Later: It is a good day for food. Well generally it's just a good day. There is much lazing about at Figtree, with many exciting to-dos in the kitchen. These are very necessary for in the great storminess of earlier this week, a small waterfall decided to open in the wall of the Figtree's basement. And create a small indoor lake. A small, foul-smelling, stored-stuff-invading lake. And when the waters finally receded, it was depressing. Therefore there was much need of pretty little foodstuffs to keep up morale. Hence, pikelets (left), parks (right), pikelets shaped like marsupials (below).

Also of course chao, figtarts, a stroll through Prospect Park, a trip to the Fairway (like no other market!), and a beautifully assembled meal in front of some fine British comedy (grilled fish and vegetables, Spanish rice, salad). A fine relaxing day under the Brooklyn sun, in preparation for...

Day 9: Dim sum & A Shrubbery.

(Pictured: It's Dr. Toothy's Dental World! It's enough to give a susceptible child nightmares. For years! Notice how the toothbrush extends off the wall.)

A day spent in Chinatown & Union Square.

Vegetarian dimsum!

Union Square farmers' market! 3 kinds of basil! A rosemary bush to satisfy even the Knights Who Formerly Said Ni!

Plus, The Philadelphia Story! Ah, Katharine Hepburn.

I might fill in the blanks later.

Day 8: No, you need Form A77609...

(Pictured: Lower Manhattan with Staten Island Ferry. Note: this has nothing to do with the events of the day, which are far too important, national, and secret, to be pictured. This has been an Official Blogular Non Sequitur Warning.)

A day at the Social Security Office. Bureaucracia!!

There's also a workday, some Brooklyn rambling, a lovely dinner, and my first viewing of the excellent piece of cinema, The Court Jester. Recommended to all and sundry.

Day 5-Day 7: A week in the office.

(Pictured: kanji, okayu, chao, juk, zhuo, lugaw...tasty.)

Where a week is Tuesday to Thursday. Which it is for many of my office mates ;-)

I begin to get settled in. Meetings are held. There is much running around between cubicles, many cups of tea taken. We go out for lunch. We stay in for lunch. On Wednesday, there is the first in what seems to be a tradition of potluck picnics, with a select 20 people. We sit on the patch of grass between the building and its neighbouring parking lots; we have picnic mats and insects and even ice cream bars. Life is good.

Well, we do some work too. But it doesn't make such good copy.

At night there are activities. We go to Target to buy house supplies, and to an Indian grocery for staples like spices, dal, and a big sack of atta flour. Oddly, many of the items are Canadian - maple leaves everywhere! We have yummy South Indian food - rasam, dosa, idli, sambhar, coconut chutney, payasam. Mmmmm. (Pictured: Onion rava(wheat) dosa, Kanchipuram idli, sambhar, coconut chutney.)

Another night we go to (Manhattan) Chinatown. Because it is us and it is Chinatown, we get lost. And then the place we want to try is closing. Eventually we end up at Congee Village, which is a good place to end up. We have to wait for a table and end up getting seated with a number of others, two of whom turn out to be rude, nasty people. We pity the waitstaff. We leave a big tip, which is easy since we eat two congees (crab; fish and preserved egg, especially delicious), a steamed yam cake, an eggplant dish, rice, all for less than $8 each. Mm, Congee Village.

The next day in the office we are having a teabreak and end up in a discussion of the etymology of congee. We have Tamil kanji eaters and Vietnamese chao eaters, Chinese juk/zhuo eaters, Japanese kayu eaters, Tagalog lugaw eaters. I am the only one in the room whose ancestors didn't eat rice porridge (buckwheat porridge doesn't count, I guess) so we decide I am the adopted cousin in the family. Since we are now a family, we all begin to bicker. Mo-om, clearly the Tagalog word is some kind of compound with the word rice (gaw) in it, make her believe me!

Being in the office is good for work. I can run around and ask people questions right away instead of waiting and waiting for an email. It's easier to explain things and understand explanations. I learn that people can also run around and ask me things. I learn that I know useful things. I also learn that it is nearly impossible to finish writing a report when there is always someone wanting to know something. Clearly I will have to adopt camouflage gear and hide out in my cubicle in order to get things done.

Days are long. I get home late. I am very tired. But it's good to be here.

Day 4: First day of school!!

Today was the first day of school. Well, work. But somehow it would have felt right to have the nice shiny box of crayons to carry.

The Atomic Squid accompanied me and we discovered that I had to pay my New York City transit dues, i.e. that it took me inexplicably longer to go everywhere than it should have. This has lasted a week, alas, though it may be fixed now *hopefully*. Anyhow, walk, subway, walk, light rail, walk, train, walk, office.

Work.

And reverse it all...

It makes a long day, but is still slightly surreal. I've been here before, on business trips, enough times that it all feels strangely normal. Is this a dream? Am I really here? Where do I belong?

We go to lunch with the old gang. I have a cubicle. The cubicle has my name on it. I have my own set of whiteboard markers! Phew, the crayon equivalent at last. I wish there were chartreuse whiteboard markers.

Day 3: A sad farewell.

(Sunset Park soccer game. A well-timed shot. That's Manhattan in the background.)

This was a quiet day of getting a little more settled in the new place, of roaming around Brooklyn, but mostly of saying goodbye to Pseudonyme, who had come down with me to help with the move but who, alas, needed to return home.

We joined our Brooklyn hosts for a Cuban brunch (artichokes and scrambled eggs, how could you go wrong?) and then wandered down to the famous (among Brooklyn food bloggers at least) Red Hook soccer fields, where many Latin American food stalls have been set up. We were too full to taste the huaraches, quesadillas, pupusas, etc, but I did have a very tasty watermelon juice. We'll have to return with appetites next time.

Since there's never enough rambling or food, we went next to Sunset Park (in the eponymous neighbourhood), which has the highest point in Brooklyn, and thus lovely views of the borough, the City (Manhattan), Staten Island, and Jersey. It was quite the neighbourhood scene. From there to Brooklyn Chinatown, also in Sunset Park, smaller than the Manhattan version but still quite spread out and enticing.

The parting was hard. As they tend to be. But six months is not so long, and there are many adventures to have in that time. The Atomic Squid took me back to the Figtree and plied me with soothing tofu soup and inspired tv comedy before sending me off to bed.

Next up, the first day at work!

Day 2: The Piquenique.

(Faux Jazz Agers on Governors' Island.)

Well, one might think that we'd have spent our first day in Brooklyn moving things in and generally getting settled. However, one would be wrong, as we had bigger fish to fry: the long-awaited, anxiously anticipated, &tc &tc, Governors' Island picnic!

Governors' Island is a strange anomaly in the New York City area: it doesn't have that many people on it. Indeed it is possible to find yourself, on a sunny weekend afternoon, ENTIRELY ALONE IN A PUBLIC PLACE. Believe you me, this is noteworthy. The island is also notable for being a former army garrison/fort/stronghold type place, for looking rather like it's somewhere in South Carolina, and best of all, for being only a free ferry ride away from Lower Manhattan. (You board the ferry from a green building beside the Staten Island ferry on the bottom tip of Manhattan.)

The day of our picnic was also, unbeknownst to us, a "Jazz Age" Day. This meant not only that there was a jazz band serenading us for the length of our picnic, and that there were free Charleston lessons, but also that we were inexplicably surrounded by large clumps of people dressed in period costume. Frocks. Striped suits. And oh, the hats. See above.

As for the picnic, we ate, we chattered, we frisbeed and strolled and giggled and snoozed. It was a lovely time. Then we went back to Brooklyn and packed things into cars and carried heavy things up narrow flights of stairs. But, picnic!

Day 1: The Move.

(Pictured: Lower Manhattan & Brooklyn. The two bridges you can see are Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. The two big green Brooklyn blobs are Prospect Park and Greenwood Cemetary. The small tip of an island is Governors' Island of which more later. As the flight circled Manhattan to come in for its landing we had many lovely views of the City.)

After many frantic weeks of preparation, self-doubt, and repeated checking off of lists, we set off from fair Montréal en vers New York City. We expected some kind of last minute hitch at Customs, yet all went according to plan and we were met at the airport by The Atomic Squid,* our kind host and fixer-of-all-problems in Brooklyn. She kindly ferried us to her home, The Figtree, where she plied us with noodle soup and fixed us up a cozy nook. We trotted up to fetch the keys, cast a brief glance over the new place, and wearily wended our way back to Figtree, where we greeted our second host, The Grand Pademelon, and tumbled into a sleepy heap in the cozy nook. There endeth the First Day.

*Disclaimer: Pseudonyms subject to change over time as I get better ideas or merely get tired of typing the long ones.

Day 0: What's past is prologue...

...so I may as well write about it, even though it's not likely to be news to any of my hypothetical Dear Readers.

This blog has as its purpose the recording of my temporary sojourn in New York City, mainly as a mnemonic device but perhaps also for the edification and entertainment of any who might stop and read. And look at the pretty pictures. So, enjoy! A word of warning: most names have been changed to protect identities, yatta, yatta. Please to preserve this light fictionalisation when commenting.

The Backstory: I am a Canadian relocating to New York City to work in the glittering, glamourous world of the Internet. Ok, the arduous, t-shirt-clad, and sometimes pungent world of the Internet, at the imaginary company misplaced.com. Work takes place in the distant realm of Outer Limits, but I newly call home the lovely neighbourhood of Cobble Hill, Brooklyn.

This blog will mostly concern itself with repetitious expressions of wonder and homesickness in the face of The City, living in a foreign country, and there'll be lots about food. The pseudonymous cast of characters will be introduced all in good time. If need be, there might eventually evolve an FAQ and possibly a Cast of Characters. In the mean time, I foresee one question that will need to be answered:

Q: Why wombats, cousin?
A: It's a long story; wombats are the new hippo; why not wombats? Why not?

I'm sure that clears everything up.

The Rules: So far, not many. The idea is that every day of my sojourn gets an entry of its own, no matter how terse or after-the-fact-posted. In addition, noteworthy events will probably get their own special sections, and I may evolve thematic series as time goes on, because who doesn't like thematic series? No, don't answer that.

The main rule is, please preserve pseudonymity. The blog will display in reverse chronological order but can be skimmed, grazed, tasted and discarded at will. One of the fun things about blogs is how people can comment, so please go ahead.

Onward Ho!

Welcome to the Wombats' World Tour!

...of course, there's no blog yet. We can't have everything.