Adventures in Subway Life

Sometimes I forget New York isn't the center of the world. For example, sometimes when I Google things, I forget to add the "New York" part to my search. I'll type "movie theaters" and then get angry when the first hit is for a cinema in Minneapolis.

I had this experience last night. I left a friends birthday party around 2 and managed to arrive at my apartment at 4:30... TWO and a HALF hours later. Somewhere between Roosevelt and 75th Ave, someone jumped in front of an F train. For an hour and a half, re-reading an old issue of New York magazine and listening to the same Rhett Miller album on my iPod, I stood, teeter tottering on my high-heels. I finally decided I had enough and teeter tottered out of the subway and onto the streets of Jackson Heights.

This is where it gets annoying.

First, there were no cabs. Not only were there no cabs, there were no PEOPLE. And not only were there no people, there were no BODEGAS. Or STREET SIGNS! This isn't supposed to happen. I'm supposed to live in a city where I can do anything at anytime. You can do the flying trapeze over the Hudson River and then scale the New York Times building before getting cocktails at 1Oak (is 1Oak still cool?)

Eventually, I found a cab after teetering tottering around and frantically refreshing the GPS locator button on my phone. Ironically while driving home, I passed Wiggles again.

The nice thing about getting stranded on the subway until 4:30 AM is that when you get home, Post Secret is up! I've been reading Post Secret for years and it is a huge part of my weekend life. My Sunday's are spent reading Post Secret and the paper.

This was written on a postcard from a restaurant whose branding I worked on and was designed by my good friend Minou. I thought it was really special:

new york i love you, but you're bringing me down

A few weeks ago, I joined Zipcar. Since then, I have used it twice including today to go to Target to buy a cupcake baking tin.

In order to get to Target, I have to drive down Queens Boulevard, also known as the Boulevard of Death. With SIXTEEN LANES OF TRAFFIC at some points, people are apt to simply close their eyes and run across when they need to be from one side to another. It averages 10 deaths a year. In order to curb it's reputation for being a human carnival game, NYC has installed cameras AT EVERY SINGLE CORNER of Queens Blvd and sometimes randomly in the middle. So needless to say it's a long, arduous journey from my apartment to Target.

But not today. No, not today.

Today while stopped at a light I looked over and saw a sign for a strip club called "Wiggles."

yes, we did.

This day is electric.

Since 10 AM this morning I have scoured queens looking for a copy of the New York times. In my little hamlet of Briarwood, in between Forest Hills and Kew Gardens and Jamaica, there must be no less than 40 bodegas, gas stations and stationery stores. ALL of them had sold out of newspapers long before I got there. I ventured into the Hasidic area, hoping there was a lone copy hidden underneath the Jewish Daily (a real newspaper, thank you). There was not. I strolled down Union Turnpike to the Hispanic area and was met with giggles when I inquired if the Shell station had any copies hidden in the back. The attendant said "We were sold out hours ago." He then added: "It's an important day!" Yeah, I think I heard something about that.

I re-read some of my blogs from 4 years ago. The devastation I felt that day was palpable. I was sad for days. I felt like I had worked and worked and hadn't been heard.

But not today.

Today is electric. And as I walk through all of these different areas and different streets passing by people who look different from me I realized: things are going to be different. We are breaking away from our station as the world's police, a beacon of over-consumption and lack of culture and reminding everyone else: we are a great nation... dare I say the greatest. A place where the answer to any dream is "yes, you can!"

I was continually impressed and humbled by my friends who worked tirelessly campaigning and talking and fighting for this day. I was even more impressed that some of them could not even vote and yet dedicated their time and energy and were right next to me drying tears from their eyes when the winner was declared.

I do believe that one of the greatest moments of my life was when I looked up at the television screen and saw the projection of who would be our next President. I will treasure that for as long as I live.

Now, if only I could find a New York Times...