Archive for the 'city mouse' Category

July 1, 2006 | Filed under: NYC, city mouse

click either that ridiculous picture of me or here for Quicktime.

(No Quicktime? Click here for Flash.)

Going out to dinner in Chelsea for Brian’s Birthday brought us to the 23rd Street stop of the N/W subway line. Many of the city’s stations are decorated; murals, sculptures, poems, bas-reliefs, paintings and interactive pieces can be found all over town. Much of the artwork is crafted right into the tile walls, like it is at 23rd Street, and much of the artwork is directly related to the station it’s housed in. There’s a terrific photo collection of NYC Subway art here, or you can wait patiently until I take more footage of stations throughout the year.

I’m crazy about this station. I’m also crazy about my boyfriend, partly because he has no qualms about behaving like a total geek in public with me. Huge bonus.

May 9, 2006 | Filed under: NYC, city mouse

you can click here to watch the video, too, if you are so inclined!

I’ve been out of sorts, lately, and haven’t been able to post anything these last several days. After finishing up a long run of night shifts I took the train to DC Friday first thing in the morning to attend my honey’s art opening at the Arts Club of Washington (there’ll be video on that experience later), then he drove us back to New York that very same night. Saturday was spent preparing for his zillion mile non-stop drive to New Orleans in his 10 mi/gal pick-up with both the pets, and Sunday marked the start of the drive–a rage-inducing, hellishly frustrating experience due to a near-complete inability to escape from New York because of the 2006 Five Boro Bike Tour. To add to the fun, Maisie always throws up all over the car when they reach a certain part of Central Jersey. Poor man arrived pretty much just in time to pick me up from the airport. The house is in a state I can’t begin to describe** and we’re both freaked out, exhausted, cash poor and on the verge of twin nervous breakdowns. (there’ll be video on that experience, as well.) And it’s HOT! Like Africa Hot. And it’s only May 9th. This worries me greatly.

Excuses, excuses. Enough, already. This is the footage I took on my last shift at work. The view is lovely (although the windows could sure use a washing) and it’s a nice place to take in a New York sunrise. I think I’ll be watching this video on auto-repeat during my stay here in New Orleans. This place has already shoved me over the edge and I’ve only been here 10 hours.

**Not like an “As seen on CNN-hole cut through the roof for an escape hatch-eight feet of water-destroyed by flood-Category 5″ kind of state, but still, really, really f*#&ing difficult state. When complaining about the house in New Orleans I try and maintain some perspective. At least the house is still here.

You know when your haircut grows out and it’s in that in-between stage? This house is in an in-between stage. It’s like “house puberty” in here. This house is as disheveled, dirty, broken and confused as a twelve-year-old boy. But there is DSL. Thanks God for small miracles.

April 20, 2006 | Filed under: NYC, city mouse, misadventures

New York City, although it has been pissing me off lately, is still one fabulous town. Come share some distinctly NYC activities: A perfect Spring day in Central Park. Counting used condoms in The Lake. Meat-on-a-stick (my boyfriend calls them “steak tips” but really, any meat-on-a-stick that’s $2 probably doesn’t fit into the “steak” category. I won’t eat it). The view from the N train as it glides over the Manhattan Bridge. A night at the 2006 Brooklyn Underground Film Festival, which was super cool.

March 27, 2006 | Filed under: city mouse, misadventures

I work the overnight shift 7pm to 7am, which can wreak havoc on my days off. Specifically, it virtually destroys that very first day off after a string of shifts, because I need a whole day to re-adjust to a more “normal” schedule. I get home from work at 8:30am, go straight to bed, wake up at around 3pm and start my day. This leads to dinner at 10pm, and a whole night of…well…killing time at home. Few of my friends want to meet me for dinner at 10pm, so I keep busy with various in-house activities such as attempting to interact with the television as much as possible. But no matter how much I talk to it, it never listens…

…until last night, that is.

Featuring some of America’s favorites: Hummus, The Tick, The Punisher, James bond, The Girl Scouts and a couple of 1970’s monster movie icons.

March 21, 2006 | Filed under: un-vlogged, NYC, city mouse

Taxis used to be the ultimate New York City luxury. Raining? Take a cab. Cold? Take a cab. Tired? Take a cab. I used to take a taxi home from work any Saturday or Sunday morning. It’s about a 15 minute walk from the subway to the hospital, and the weekends invariably bring unannounced trackwork resulting in long waits and sometimes no trains at all. Spending $12 (including tip) to get home in 10 minutes vs. anywhere between one hour and this-side-of-never always seemed worth it. After the big fare hike in 2004, I’ve really needed to take my city driving habit down a few notches. Only the pouring rain or being frightfully late can get me into a taxi these days. That trip home from work is now around $16. That’s a pretty steep considering that for the same money you can treat yourself to the OTHER ultimate New York City luxury: the manicure/pedicure.

Now, I haven’t done a great deal of U.S. traveling, but other major cities don’t seem to offer the same wide range of extremities services that New York does. There are, quite literally, ten nail salons within ten blocks of my house. And I’m only counting those on my nearest stretch of avenue. If you throw in the avenues to my immediate north, you can triple or perhaps quadruple that figure. For those of you who don’t measure distance in “blocks”, ten blocks is about 1/3 mile. That’s a lot of local acetone.

The price of a manicure has barely changed in 15 years. I had my very first manicure with my boss at a salon around the corner from the TGI Friday’s where we worked. It cost $5…$7 with tip. These days, the same manicure (actually, a new and improved one) costs me $6…$8 with tip and sometimes $9 or $10, depending. The real bargain happens when you throw in a $13 pedicure and you get a discount for both: $16…$21-$25 with tip**. Why spend $16 on a taxi when you can spend it getting spiffed up, lacquered, softened and massaged? And if you really feel like treating yourself to something special, you can always upgrade to the mysterious “European” manicure or pedicure. I’m not sure what’s European about being coated with turquoise goo and then wrapped in Saran for 20 minutes, but it’s only an extra ten bucks. In more expensive neighborhoods you will find mani/pedis for more money, certainly. And I suppose you can go to a department store or any of the super fancy*** nail salons and spend upwards of $50 on just your toes…but why? I guess environment draws some women to the fancier places. I’m just not put off by fluorescent lighting, fake wood panels, plastic plants and Lite FM. As long as your salon sports big cushy vibrating pedicure chairs and a UV Quick Dry machine, I’m there!

With so many places to choose from, competition for your business is fierce. When one salon introduces a new add-on say, like hot lotion, quick-drying top coat, higher-grade polish, mineral soak or exfoliating scrubs, everyone else up the avenue has to do it, too. The latest innovation is the 5-minute head and neck massage which can range from sublime to abusive depending on whose hands you’ve been left in.

Nail salons in New York City are overwhelmingly Korean-owned, or, at least, Korean-staffed. My neighborhood is wildly diverse so even in these shops you’ll find the occasional Brazilian, Croatian, Central American or Estonian nail tech. The salons are often named after their owner (or, more frequently, the manager-who-is-the-owner’s-wife). There is Anna Nails, Suzie Nails, Hannah and Her Sister Nails, Christine Nails and my new favorite nail haunt: Pema Nails. Pema is from Tibet.

All the familiar budget-salon trappings can be found at Pema Nails. Wood paneling, harsh lighting, outdated magazines. But what makes Pema Nails special is the framed poster of The Dalai Lama draped with golden scarves with a mini-shrine complete with incense and flowers. There is a giant back-lit lightbox image of The Great Wall of China next to a smaller picture of The Himalayas. There is a small tv that is perpetually tuned in to The Game Show channel. The radio is blasting WKTU. There is a very out-of-place poster for “Footballers Wives” next to the autoclave. Pema herself is always smiling and chatty. As much as I loathe WKTU, I love it in there. All the manicurists are relatives of Pema’s with one exception: Erica.

Erica is a pint-sized, nose-ring-wearing, Love’s-Baby-Soft-smelling, gothy-dressing, softly-smiling, giggly, punk-rock slip of an Ecuadorian girl. She has a different primary colored streak in her hair every month, and she insists that she’s 20 but I don’t believe her. Her English is pretty darn good, she wants to go to college and she likes to make conversation, which I like. I find it difficult to sit through such an intimate activity without talking. How can you not converse with someone massaging cream halfway up your arm? She makes fun of me for making faces during the foot scrub and for giggling throughout her tweak-tweak shoulder massage (I’m ticklish–it’s sweet torture). She responds by switching to an as-yet-undocumented massage method I like to call “Toddler Temper Tantrum”. She just balls up her teeny fists and beats all over my back with them. It’s not exactly relaxing, but it’s not altogether unpleasant. It always ends in more laughter.

All of this should be written in past tense as I have not seen Erica for several weeks. I’m not sure where she’s gone to and when I asked after her, Pema looked wounded–as if her feelings were hurt thinking that I didn’t want her to do my nails. I’m hoping Erica has moved on to a better job with a better pay scale. These ladies make anywhere from $35 to $65 a shift, with tips on top of that. Those shifts are long, and most people tip only $2 per manicure, and each one can take an hour. Not a great rate. Tipping is a curious thing: even if you want to overdo it, you don’t want to look ostentatious. To tip $5 on a 6$ service just looks…show-offy, but for Erica, I always did it anyway.

My first and by far most petty concern about leaving New York is this: who is going to do my nails?

Coming Soon: Things I Will Miss About NYC #2 (because by 2007 I’m moving)–”Where can a girl get a decent borek around here?”

**You gotta up the tip when you start adding feet into the mix because…well…it’s feet.
***That salon is owned by a different old restaurant boss of mine…and she yelled at us a lot, too. I like to describe her as “hyperefficient”.