9 months to becoming a New Yorker
Things that happen in New York:
A friend suggests you go to the 'Earth Room' because, "It is a white room full of wet dirt and no one is ever there so you can just stop and stare at the dirt and relax."
True story.
When walking down the New York streets at 2am, tired from a night of dancing in a super-girl costume, distracted, thinking about the awkward goodbye you just had after telling the boy you had been kissing that 'No' you would not go home with him (despite his southern charm and good looks), the homeless woman you walk by on your way home looks up and says in a sing-song voice, knowing nothing of what just happened, "honey, don't worry about it, at least you are beautiful."
I must admit, it made my night so much better
As I ride my Citibike through the city I can't help but hum the tune which plays as the Wicked Witch of the West appears in the Wizard of Oz.
I've used my oven once (literally, one time). It now serves as storage.
I think I have ghosts in my apartment. As it turns out, its probably just the radiator. (probably)
You meet people who know people, who know people that can get you $300 tickets to the Tony Award winner for best Broadway musical, for free. #Win.
You are often uncertain if the homeless men, or women, in the subway are sleeping or dead. Which is sad and scary and true.
And then there was the time I saw a man, probably homeless, hurting in the subway and I did nothing. Nothing. The man was sitting, slouched over on the subway platform, his face hidden in his hands with vomit at his feet, rocking back and forth in pain. And all I did was stare. All I did was stare while thinking I should do something... but all the while hoping someone else would. A million excuses ran through my head as to why it would be inappropriate or dangerous for me to approach. He's a man, I'm a woman, I have luggage with me, I don't have time...
But it all comes down to the fact that I did nothing. Where is the humanity in that?
There is often very little humanity in excuses.
I still don't know what I would have done or could have done. But nothing is not the answer.
A friend suggests you go to the 'Earth Room' because, "It is a white room full of wet dirt and no one is ever there so you can just stop and stare at the dirt and relax."
True story.
When walking down the New York streets at 2am, tired from a night of dancing in a super-girl costume, distracted, thinking about the awkward goodbye you just had after telling the boy you had been kissing that 'No' you would not go home with him (despite his southern charm and good looks), the homeless woman you walk by on your way home looks up and says in a sing-song voice, knowing nothing of what just happened, "honey, don't worry about it, at least you are beautiful."
I must admit, it made my night so much better
As I ride my Citibike through the city I can't help but hum the tune which plays as the Wicked Witch of the West appears in the Wizard of Oz.
I've used my oven once (literally, one time). It now serves as storage.
I think I have ghosts in my apartment. As it turns out, its probably just the radiator. (probably)
You meet people who know people, who know people that can get you $300 tickets to the Tony Award winner for best Broadway musical, for free. #Win.
You are often uncertain if the homeless men, or women, in the subway are sleeping or dead. Which is sad and scary and true.
And then there was the time I saw a man, probably homeless, hurting in the subway and I did nothing. Nothing. The man was sitting, slouched over on the subway platform, his face hidden in his hands with vomit at his feet, rocking back and forth in pain. And all I did was stare. All I did was stare while thinking I should do something... but all the while hoping someone else would. A million excuses ran through my head as to why it would be inappropriate or dangerous for me to approach. He's a man, I'm a woman, I have luggage with me, I don't have time...
But it all comes down to the fact that I did nothing. Where is the humanity in that?
There is often very little humanity in excuses.
I still don't know what I would have done or could have done. But nothing is not the answer.