welcome to new york

Aaaah, nothing like missing your exit and being hopelessly lost when it's pouring rain in Jersey City, aka the Armpit of America, and forced to pullover on the side of the road to pee into your morning coffee cup and dump it out the window (two cupsfull, for the record) because you've been stuck in traffic for an hour and there are no gas stations or McDonaldses in sight, and even if there were you'd be too afraid to unlock the car doors and get out for fear of being attacked by one of the many toothless homeless people roaming the middle of the streets that are flanked by boarded up storefronts, pipes spewing brown smoke, and powerlines galore. I do not <3 NJ.

But it's all ok now. I managed to rent a car, pack up my shit, get directions, make it to the city in one piece, find parking half a block from my apartment, unload my shit (in the rain,) get gas on 46th and 11th (thanks, Friendly Gay Neighbor,) and return the rental car, all by myself! I have never felt so adult. To cap off the evening I bought myself a nice bottle of wine at enormous Beacon Wines (a white Bordeaux that the manager described as fullbodied and fruity with a surprisingly dry finish reminiscent of a good Sancerre...for $9.99...sold) and began putting my beloved little apartment back together. The welcoming committee also provided me with an immediate celebrity sighting (so tall and skinny!) and a nice clear view of the morbidly obese naked woman in the building nextdoor. Oh how I've missed New York. And it turns out most of my Ithaca friends will be either moving here soon or visiting frequently. I'm scared shitless about money and job stuff but so damn happy right now. And though they are largely responsible, I don't think my happiness is ENTIRELY a result of my Burritoville visit (they jacked the prices in my absence!) and consumption of 3/4 of the bottle of wine.