Saturday morning

This morning started around 630. I rolled out of bed without too much hesitation, knowing full well what I had in store for the next few hours. A walk to Inwood Hill park for some yoga, followed by a stroll through the Inwood Farmer's market - where I bought two ears of corn and one luscious peach - and finally with coffee and a light breakfast at the Park diner on Dyckman.

I even clipped coupons this morning.

Now, while the day is approaching 10am, I'm thinking of either going for a nice long bike ride or something else. The something else may entail going to Central Park to read and relax.

But for now, having just finished cleaning the toilet bowl, I'm quite satisfied with the morning's accomplishments. Now, only if Anne were here, I could wake her up and explore the city together! But, alas, she's still away.

Jackson Square

Jackson Square in the Village is the sort of place for firsts. In a like manner, I had my first taste of beer concealed by paper bag. Truly not a life-changing moment, but nevertheless entertaining. For no more than $4, I was able to scheme my way into the mainstream park drinking scene. Granted I was with some of the more straight-edged folk any city would be able to put forth. I'm still better for it.

This evening was full of margheritas, chips and salsa and, as above, drinking in a park. The buzz I had failed to keep me entertained during my A-train trek back up to the upper upper upper west side. However, I made it and there's a nice cross breeze going on in the apt.

I was supposed to meet Miguel for riding tomorrow morning, but, for some reason, my neck is bothering me a bit. Regardless, I don't think I'm ready for an 80/90 mile ride on the Palisades with a pack of serious cyclists. I've got to take it slow and warm up ruining other's spirits along the mini hills of Central Park. Todd relayed to me that many call one hill in particular, Cardiac Hill. This is somewhat amusing. It's a hill not worth 30 blocks at possibly an 5-8% grade. Call me young; call me naive; but don't call me on the verge of an arrested heart for climbing this hill. Granted I'm not 65 and crossing my second mid-life crisis when any hill may be one's last and final cardiac hill. I won't complain. And I will respect my elders and their $6,000 bicycles.

Hot, lonely and a tad bit bored . . .

It's 11:28pm on a Wednesday night here in NYC. I'm in my apartment, wet with sweat and too wired from a 2 hour mid evening nap to call it quits. I finally had enough of the still heat and ventured outside only to find the coffee shop closed. So I sat on the building's steps and read in the intermittent green glare of a stop light nearby. My mother invited me back to the Island for a few days - to eat for free and relax. Trouble is is that I never get to relax at home. It's always quite stressful - eating 8 times a day etc.

Did I forget to mention that I'm now in NYC? And does this make any sense whatsoever? To be lonely and a tad bit bored? Well, truth is is that I'm not bored, but just quite lonely. I've grown accostomed to spending time with Anne and and now she's not here. Just a couple more weeks of my pining to go . . ..

I am, however, blazing hot. It's so darn humid the sweat just pours out of me - in the strangest of places, like my ankles and wrists. Sure enough, tomorrow will be another day. Another day to sweat, walk around, run errands that really don't need to be run and eating pinneaple out of a can. I will be begging for this time off once I start up at the Board again, no doubt.

I could, and come to think of it I should, start studying again for the LSAT, which I'm scheduled to take during the very end of September. I've roughly 2 months. Okay, tomorrow it is - I'm on it. I'm also going to post the futon frame on CL.

Things to do:
Study for LSAT
Post futon frame
Put away/store stuff around the apartment
Shave

What a life . . .:)

So here I am

And here's a picture of Anne and I on our first day in the apartment.

So here I am, in Anne and I's apartment in NYC. Alone. I've done laundry. I've cycled. I've done yoga. I've gone for walks. I've gone food shopping. I've surfed the net. I've read. I've tried to organize the apartment. But I find myself wont for things to do and people, namely Anne, to do them with.

I miss her terribly, but know she'll be back in no time flat - roughly 2 weeks.

Today, Todd's coming by and we're to play tennis. I've not seen courtside in many years. Neither has my racquet. Here's to hoping the strings hold up!

I've found a radio station that serves me well - 96.3 - The New York Times Classical station. It isn't too obnoxious with talk and only slightly so with modern pieces.

I washed the outerside of our kitchen windows and did not get swarmed by wasps this time. Which was a relief. Now I just have to figure out how to wash the other windows - possibly a squeegie (sp?)?

Bike Maintence

Today was an exercise in bicycle maintenance. I forgot to post the other day, but my new bike had a slight problem . . .. The carbon fiber seat post broke off and half of it fell right on down into the seat tube. I tried dutifully for an hour or so – even Harry, the ever-missing landlord tried his hand on it.

I ended up riding yesterday down the west side’s parkway – beautiful ride – with my Bianchi’s seat post and old Bontrager seat. While this was a great set up, someone contacted me from Craigslist wanting to purchase my single speed. So I had to transfer the posts and seats etc. Anyway, I had trouble getting the specialized seat onto the Colnago post. After 20 mins I relented and went to the bike shop across the street from Anne and I’s new place in Inwood. Miguel worked on the befallen carbon post for roughly an HOUR!!! But there was eventually success – Miguel called it a hearty welcome to the neighborhood. He invited me to go riding on the Palisades with him sometime and gave me his card.

So, yes, a lot of bike maintenance. Phillip, my hopeful buyer, will be here in a few minutes. I’m currently waiting for him at the diner downstairs.

Well, the Phillip transaction turned out well. I lost $75, but it was worth it. Immensely worth it. Now we’ll just have to figure out the best place to hang my Zeus – and we’re golden.

I’m now sitting at a chessboard table in one of the parks across from our apartment – fountains are flowing with children running throughout, swings etc.

My last day in Boston

Well, here it is. It came quite slowly and surely. And it will go in just about 15 hours. In roughly that amount of time, I'll be on the Fung Wah bus, which, for all of its bad publicity, has served Anne and I extremely well. We've been taking the Fung Wah so often lately, I feel as if the 4+ hour ride down there is just a bit of a trip. I remember the first time I was to take the Fung Wah, I had visions of holding crates of chickens on my lap and catching SARS. Neither, however ignorant I was to think of them, occurred and I am a big big proponent of them and their service. So cheap too - merely $15.

I said goodbyes to all of those around today at the office. Got one too many hugs from older women who have professed crushes on me with cat calls over the past 3 years. These, thankfully, were balanced by a few jokes and firm handshakes from other colleagues. Many well wishes to go around. Boy did I accumulate a lot of junk in this office. I think I counted 87,000 paper clips.

I'm off to meet with Angela for a bite to eat in Central, then off to home. A little cleaning, a little packing, and a little resting before the 6am wake-up.

On a rather sad note, however, I heard from Anne last night and it seems as though she has caught Montezuma's Revenge. Talked with her today and she seemed to be feeling a bit better, though still extremely weak. Weak from lack of food, what I'm assuming is a bit of dehydration and what going through it all does to your systems in general. So here's to hoping Anne gets back on up down in Oaxaca!

On to NYC!

Well, we're all packed and on our way to NYC in a couple of minutes. We spent the evening on the futon in my bare room. Yesterday's packing of the UHaul was great, but it was incredibly tiring and sweaty. There's no way we could have managed later on today without hiring movers. I'm glad Anne really pressed the issue. Okay, we should get a move on moving on. I'll post pics as they come!

My new Baby

So this is my new baby. She's an Orbea-built Zeus with the following specs that I'm very excited about:

* 9spd chorus 2003 levers and rear der
* new cassette and chain (12-23)
* truvativ rouleur 175mm 52-39 crankset, isis drive
* chorus brakes, new pads, record carbon seatpost
* specialized avatar saddle (130mm)
* deda 215, shallow drop, 44cm ctc bars, deda solido 13cm 26.0 stem
* cateye computer
* cane creek 1 inch headset
* mavic cxp 33 laced 3x to daytona hubs (recently re-serviced)
* frame is columbus altec 2+ aluminum, size 57cm ctc, 56cm top tube

I purchased it used from a local racer here in Boston, Gustavo. I have been wont for ideas on how to keep physically active when we move to NYC. (By the way, we're moving tomorrow). So I thought, given that I love commuting to work by bike, why not get into cycling? There's a hefty biking commuity in NYC and I'm sure I can meet some at my level, whichever that level might be. TBD. I'll keep you posted on how I'm progressing. But for now, I'm just really excited about my new piece of art . . ., er, bike.

We Apartmented!

FINALLY!

Anne and I finally heard back from Patrick about our apartment down in Inwood. We were approved and now just have to sign the lease and move in! It's been a relatively stressful couple of weeks not knowing where and when we'd move. But it's almost over!!!

We found a great place. A 5th floor walk up overlooking the Cloisters in Northern Manhattan. It's relatively cheap for NYC and we'll have great legs and butts from the climb!

I'll post pictures as we get them later on. For now, we're just relieved and excited:)

Thoughts on Last Thoughts

We all have them. We all have the random thoughts. They're peppered throughout our days. I'll be walking and randomly think of laundry or a McDonalds menu or something or other. These are the random thoughts that occupy much of our time. Or my time, really.

What if this happens during our last moment or moments of life? What if, lying on our deathbeds or just before being slammed by a semi we're thinking the myriad somethings that we could be thinking of at the time. Not of family. Not of love. Not of snapshots at summercamp. Not of first kisses and dogs. Not of butterflies. But, rather, 'IT'S GARBAGE NIGHT!!!' OR 'I wonder if Sienfeld DVDs will come down in price soon' or 'the price of bread'.

Just thought I'd share this bit of disquieting worry.

Where do my loyalties lie?

Are they with the mom and pop shops or with efficienct behemoths? Are they with the terrorized or with the revolutionaries? Are they with the writers of history or the backs to which those writers quite invariably thrived upon? Are they with my today or with my tomorrow? Are they with my needs or my desires?

These are questions I'm in the midst of trying to answer. Just thought I'd share.

Shave this

No matter how hard I try to get a close shave, I invariably come stumbling stubbily away with strays and patches. I've been using a Norelco lately - a gift from my parents of roughly two years ago. I shave with an electric because my father shaves with an electric. Memories of him shaving whilst driving us to school, using the rear view mirror as a vanity are some of the clearest, most impressed, memories of my childhood. I remember him letting me 'shave' with the plastic protector in put. I felt manish. To think, with all of that practice, I'm still not quite good? I must be missing something. For the longest time, I'd blame my failures on the humidity or on the length of time, hence the length of hair, between shavings etc. Now, wise in years, I've reconciled with this fault of mine. I am a poor shaver. There, I've said it.

What I'm in the market for is a nice hot shave. Towel, straight razor, old barber with his barber pole twirling outside and all.

What makes a man?

Answer me this, Batman: Why is it that a man carrying flowers is seen as effiminate and the man planting them, masculine? Is it the dirt?

One Tene(n)t to be aware of . . .

Everyone lies.

That's advice from my supervisor, Bob. Of course, he's generally speaking of attorneys that we're dealing with, but the tenet bleeds into much of every day life as well. He's a cynic, but also very wise.

Anne and I went apartment hunting again this past weekend down in NYC. We must have seen 20 or so apartments in the span of a couple of days. A few of the apartments being 5th floor walk-ups and we were a bit spent and crabby by the end of it all. I finally relented after realizing how trying it is to find an apartment in NYC while living in Boston without a broker. Which means a broker's fee of 10-15%. Which means roughly $1-2,000. Which is a lot of moolah. But!!! Some brokers, namely one Abigal, will, not only charge 12% (down from her first offer of%15) tell you that the rents for a particular apartment is higher than it really is and pocket the difference over the course of the year. But how is one supposed to know that a broker is lying? Really, there is no way to be sure. However, when two brokers show the same apartment and one says it's 1075 and the other 1250, we know which one is lying. I'll give you a dime if you guess which one. Who knows . . ., both of them could be embellishing the rent from 950 for all I know.

Needless to say, Anne and I saw some dumps. But we also saw a few gems including a couple that we put in applications for. At $100 a pop. But we're getting a shelf unit from IKEA from my cousin Melissa, so that's nice.