More Than This Provincial Life

My trips to the city were fewer in second semester, the whole travelling the country for 6 weeks (starting on Tuesday!) kind of got in the way of my being able to spend money. At least after spring break.

Before, though, the trips to the city happened in the concentrated block of February: a mid-week Mumford and Sons gig in Brooklyn, a 4 day visit from my older brother letting me stay in a hotel for once and then a weekend in Chelsea walking and eating with a friend before high-tailing it back to Albany to see the ever amazing Frank Turner the first weekend in March. It was a pretty fantastic few weeks.

When my brother came to visit, I was back to seeing the city through its tourist attractions. It’s true, no matter how close by I might live and how many times I visit I always will be a tourist in New York (though the guy who worked at the Rockefeller Centre did call me a New Yorker) but it had been a while since I climbed something high and went to the museums. That’s what’s so fantastic about New York: the tourist traps are as amazing as the rest of the city. It’s a good time whatever you’re doing and wherever you are. Even In freezing February.

I also ticked off a few New York firsts with my brother, most notably Broadway. It was everything I’d always wanted from the city and the Christmas present I’d asked my parents for. We went to see Newsies to see something we wouldn’t get back home or on the West End and it was fantastic. A real American musical, so much fun to watch and so catchy! We made it even more American by eating burgers and sweet potato fries across the street before the show. In fact, the entire weekend was a mash up of classic America foods with breakfast in IHOP, hot dogs in Central Park and pizza in Little Italy.

The next weekend I was back for 2 nights with Marie to walk around the city and, again, to eat. From dinner in Greenwich village to Cake, the Best Cookies In New York at Levine Bakery and the supposedly best but a little disappointing pizza in Brooklyn. Our first day we walked all through Chelsea market and all over Bleeker Street and Greenwich Village and the next day hit Central Park and Prospect Park and all over Brooklyn. How easily you can walk all over the city is what I love about New York, even if you realise once you sit down that walking for four hours non stop is really tiring. The great thing was we didn’t have to make this realisation until we were happily ensconced in a small, quirky Brooklyn bar chatting to the waitress and drinking Magners. Perfection.

I’ll only go back to the city one more time now before I leave and I know I’ll miss having it on my doorstep. I have 3 days left to explore and discover new areas (staying in Queens this time) and to be a tourist who sort-of knows the way around now. Or at least consults the map less often. But if I’m honest in that I chose my exchange university for its proximity to NYC then I definitely chose right. It’ll be a nice round 10 trips after June and that should be enough to keep me going until I have money to travel again, and maybe one day I’ll work or study and stay a little longer.

See you in June, New York. It’s been fun. We deserve these last few days together.

I want to complain that my homework to ‘write nothing’ was really hard but everyone will think I’m being smug. 

No.

My actual homework was to write nothing: 200 word minimum. This is worse than creating something with no meaning. This is worse than making a poem out of photo cut-outs. 

Being this unemployable and skill-less is really hard, yo. 

It was three months ago now that I cut short my Christmas break at home in Scotland and came back to my American life. And they do feel, or did feel, like two very different lives, especially taking almost a whole day to travel from one to the other. 

I came back early not out of a desire to be in one place over another or to resume normal business of classes but to go on probably a once in a lifetime trip for me to a presidential inauguration. 

I’m a fan of Obama at the best of times, but this was something else. All over the city was a spirit of celebration and of unity. Everyone was talking to everyone on the street, everyone was there for the same reason whether they’d lived in that city all their lives, worked there or had travelled across country or- as we got to claim a very little bit- across oceans and countries to be there. 

Washington D.C was a lovely city, which yes I know I always say about the places I visit but they are all lovely in their own ways. Regardless of how busy everywhere was the weekend of our visit, it still seemed really peaceful. And regardless of the fact it was the middle of January, it was pretty ‘warm’. At the very least, the sun was shining on us, which is what you need when you’re spending whole days wandering from monument to monument. 

It’s not all perfect travel stories of idyllic cities and important historical political moments. I can honestly say that the hostel we absentmindedly picked in Washington was the worst place I have stayed in my entire life. It was over-priced by a way for inauguration weekend (and priced differently for almost everybody that stayed there apparently), the rooms for 6 people were tiny tiny tiny (comfortably they could only just manage three) and they didn’t lock. Our roommates were nice enough but loud snorers and the guy in charge went by ‘Flame’. It does not bode well the owner of a hostel isn’t giving out a real name to guests. Although we didn’t encounter any direct problems with him ourselves (except for the one time we locked ourselves out of our room because they hadn’t given us a key to get back in) a lot of people were getting into disputes and getting thrown out or being allowed to stay when there was no where near enough beds. Fun times maybe not, but it’s only a bed for a few nights and it’s a definite travel ‘experience’. 

The actual day of the inauguration was cold, and long. An early start, a long walk all over the city to get into the un-ticketed areas and then lots of standing. But it was worth it. I can’t imagine anything like it ever happening in the UK, especially not with our current government. It’s pretty cool to see a country celebrate like that. As much as I might tease or joke about American patriotism, good things do come from it. Scotland can be pretty patriotic, but mostly in England it’s seen as a bad thing. God forbid you celebrate St George’s day and hang a flag for anything other than football. If you do, everyone’s pretty much settled that you’re at least a little racist thanks to the BNP. Maybe if I hadn’t grown up in a culture like this I would appreciate the patriotism much more. I’d like to think there’s some sort of happy medium between too much and too little, and that’s what the inauguration felt like to me. 

So that was a pretty cool experience. One I’ll never get again, although I will return to D.C this summer on my travel extravaganza. Things are looking up. Maybe come Christmas next year I’ll finally have finished writing about it all, if we’re being optimistic. 

I’m so behind, it’s a mystery what post will make it up next and when. ‘Til then. 

Sometimes, you hear something or read something that describes you so perfectly, so succinctly, that you have to stop

-to take pause- 

and ask yourself: was that me? 

It can be a song- in this case it was- a lyrical poem, or a poetic lyric perhaps, set to an acoustic strumming or a piano; an orchestra or a gentle drumbeat that freezes- just for

one second-

your heartbeat.  

It happens to all of us. When suddenly somewhere- out of nowhere- a stranger encapsulates everything you’ve ever felt or thought or been in just a few words. Beats. 

It throws you off. The question in the back of your mind bubbling forth. 

Unleashed. Unstoppable. Uncontrollable. Making you doubt everything.

Was that me?

Is that really me? 

It was someone else. Is that who I want to be? Someone Else?

Someone different.

Someone new.

Someone better.

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In the next couple of days I’ll hear about my dissertation, which is terrifying. So before I hear whatever I hear, good or bad, I’m posting my submission. It’s far too late to go back and to doubt and not time enough to be confident, so I’m putting my writing out into the world before I know and before I hold too much stead in what it says about me and my goal to actually do this professionally one day. So, here goes…

… and by much you probably think I mean at all, which isn’t exactly true. I’ve been working on-and-off on my post about Washington D.C since January (the document is open on computer constantly) and I have ideas for what to post about New Orleans and of course there’s going to be an OHMYGODTHESEMESTER’SNEARLYOVER post when I try and deal with the scary concept of the future and how important it’s going to get after this summer. 

I think that’s why I haven’t got anything down enough to actually post it and update the world: I’m figuring things out and I’m using the time I do have to enjoy myself to do just that. It doesn’t mean going out to bars  or disappearing to exotic locations every weekend- though there is always the possibility of that- sometimes it just means chilling watching the Lizzie Bennett Diaries en masse or having a nice dinner with friends. I have to make the most of these people while we’re all here in the same position. 

Plus, I got a little busier with my other writing, the creative writing, and maybe in the next few weeks I’ll post a little of that here. I just sent off my application piece for my dissertation and (scary future stuff) should hear back in the next 10 days whether I got in or not. And I’ve been taking a class this semester that makes me write every week and I think has really really helped me, so that’s good

So even if I’m not posting so much, I am writing. And I will post. Even if it’s all in retrospect, I’m going to document this year to the best of my ability because I’m not going to forget it or take any of it lightly. It’s all cool. Cool cool cool. 

heartkeepingopenhouse:

oh okay, i want to do a thing!

if you reblog this post, i will write a poem/short story about you as a fictional character, or how i perceive you based on your blog. (i might need to have a short conversation with you as well, to get a general idea of who you are.) 

i promise i’ll do everyone!

(via wherethebookwormlives)

Oh No That Was Probably A Really Weird Thing To Say Wasnt It: A Memoir

(via a-tardis-in-blue)

A couple of years ago my slightly crazy, fun English Language tutor announced to the class that whenever anybody says the phrase ‘Back in the Day’ he immediately assumes they mean ‘Back in ’Nam’. Considering he’s a Scottish, 20-something PHD student, it’s unlikely that he or anyone he talks to is want to reminisce about the Vietnam war, but thanks to this I am now also bound to conflate ‘Back in the Day’ to those long, hard days in  ’Nam. 

This anecdote has little to do with my time in Brooklyn, but kept coming to mind while I was trying to come up with a title for this long-overdue post.

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