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I made sure to pack my day full, so I wouldnt have time to be sad that I was alone. I spent the afternoon with Sara and her friend Laura, watching a DVD and eating lots of home-baked goods. Laura is an intern at the Martha Stewart Show, so she has really gotten into the domestic housewife routine. She went all out with cookies, brownies, cupcakes, eclairs, raspberry tortes, zucchini bread, puppy chow, etc. It was nice to have a feast like that before lent hit. Though I didnt eat a single real meal all day. It was all just sugar and alcohol.
Sara and I, being the only two people from Environmental Health, don't really hang out enough with global health people or maybe have trouble socializing with them, so we decided it was time to try before we all separate for our 6 month practicums. So that night, Sara and I met up with like 15 other Global Health girls, who were all single. Maybe its because they travel a lot or something, but there is not a single girl in my cohort that is in a relationship. (Meanwhile the 3 guys in global health are married, boyfriended, or gay.) We had a game night at someones studio apartment in the Upper West Side. Hey, how come we never went to camp as kids? And how come none of my friends in LA went to camp? Is that some sort of middle class white girl or Public Health Grad student thing to do because out of that group I am the only one that never went to camp for the summer. Some of them had even been camp counselors. I bring it up because basically we played a lot of camp games, which everyone had to explain to me because I was the only one that didn't know the rules. I kicked ass in all of them though. I guess I didnt miss any important life skills in camp that I couldnt pick up in the wilds of Los Angeles. In the middle of a game called Mafia, we were 15 girls sitting in a circle on the floor, surrounded by chocolate, wine and the left over baked goods that I had brought over, trying to forget that its Valentines Day, when someone's cell phone rings. Another girl in the Public Health program just called to announce that her boyfriend proposed. She texted a picture of a huge rock on her finger. I saw 14 faces literally collapse for a quarter of a second before everyone belatedly cheered. There was a catty comment in the back about it being trite to get engaged on Valentines Day.
Maybe its my age or the fact that my peers are even older but Id never felt Valentines was such a big deal until this year. These girls wanted to get married, they were feeling that clock tick. They are all intimidatingly smart, and generally attractive (much more than Berkeley grad students), and some of them have done really amazing things and all of them were going to be very successful, but they all just wanted a burp babies and change diapers. It was like a predictable romantic movie. I didnt know that girls really got that depressed, and ate that much chocolate, and had their parents send them flowers. I went to an all-girls high school and they all were pretty set on being independent. We never cried into our cups because we were afraid of being alone all our lives. True, we sat in circles but it was all about how strong and self-actualized we were. and I try to picture what it would be like if we assembled a class of my high school classmates, 10 years later, single on Valentines Day. I think that there would still be a huge difference between the two groups. I'd like to blame it on the fact that the global health girls are white and raised in small families, and also, because they will have grander careers, are less likely to be married and more afraid of dying alone. I wonder where I am among these two groups.
By the end of the night, we were being too loud in the apartment and decided to move to a pub around the corner. When 15 girls walk single-file into a bar at 11:30pm on Valentines Day, everyone will look up. Its New York and bars are smaller, so while we all managed to pack in the back, I had the misfortune of sitting next to an old man who was seated in the large booth that we were all trying to crowd into. I say misfortune because this guy really ruined my night. I was being polite, asked him how it felt to be surrounded by so many young and single girls on Valentines Day. He turned to me and said, "my wife just died, I couldnt be alone today. We were married almost 50 years." Awkward. We talked for awhile, enough to really kill my buzz. His wife didn't want children, he's completely alone now, he's been retired so he has nothing to fill up his time, every single word was like an epitaph, being slowly chiseled unto a tombstone.
My day was schizophrenic. There was a frenzy of domesticated baking, a gaggle of depressed single women who would never think about performing housewife chores, but are scared they they will never find love and an old man who had love for 50 years and just lost it.
At least the roses I got from tor were pretty.
This past week has been chock full of events. It started out normally, going the way Mondays normally go. In fact I didn't get any hint that it was a special week until late Tuesday night, when I got a text from my friend offering me a ticket to the Daily Show for the very next day, since HER friend suddenly had to go back to Philadelphia for some sort of family emergency. Not to be mean, but thank God for family emergencies. It takes MONTHS, if not years, to get a ticket to that show and I was going in the very next day!
I immediately started thinking up excuses to skip my Wednesday classes. It had to be a good one because our classes are very small and it would look suspicious if both me and Sara were going to miss one. However, when Wednesday rolled around, all the excuses that Sara and I bandied back and forth were found to be unnecessary because for the first time in 3 years, New York City called a Snow Day. The forecast said something like 2 inches of snow every hour would fall that day, and all the public schools were shut down. Of course, Columbia stubbornly refused to accept it, and we were repeatedly getting email updates saying that classes would still go on as planned. Now, my first class was supposed to start at 2, I had to be at the Daily Show by 4 and it would take an hour to get there. At 1:30, we got an email finally allowing us a Snow Day that would begin at 3pm. At 1:55, my hard-hearted professor emailed saying, she would still hold class and stop at 3 because of the blizzard. Of course, I told her, Unfortunately Professor Northridge, I can't make it because of the weather.
When we finally got to the studios, we had to wait outside for like an hour in a blizzard before they finally had mercy and let us in, and I didn't want to wear anything too thick for fear of looking fat on tv, and I didnt want to wear a beanie for fear of flattening my hair, so I was frozen, but it was worth it. It was amazing. Stewart is actually very witty, and without the help of his writers. Before the show, he let the audience ask him questions, and he kept zinging back with clever repartee. Willy Mays was an adorable guest. How old is that guy anyway? They didn't film him walking onto the stage but I got to see it. He walked so slow, and so painfully, that it made me glad that I never had the option of becoming a professional athlete. What was the best was that Stewart had an actual conversation with Colbert, that isn't at all filmed, where they talked about their shows and their guests. Stewart was annoyed with himself for the Newt Gingrich interview, Colbert was gearing up for Vancouver and talking like a real person, not the character he is on tv.
That night, I picked up dinner on the way back home and the lady gave me the lunch special price for a full dinner. And she packed in enough food for two people. And she even threw in two hot chocolates. All for 6 dollars! I guess no one went into her restaurant all day, due to the terrible snow. Remember, this is amazing to broke and starving college students, especially in Manhattan, and thus blog-worthy as adding to the excitement of week 4. It was so much food, I was able to stretch it out to 3 meals (it sucked without a microwave though and with my oven not working because the pilot light is off--how do you turn that on anyway?) As a reference point, earlier in the week, I spent 16 dollars on coffee and a pastrami sandwich, with a side of fruit and I was still hungry.
So Thursday night, I go to a social down at the main campus. It was the business school inviting the public health school to come and mix with them. I know, why would the business school care to mingle with public health? Public health is like 80% female, and all the girls I know are single and looking, so we actually get invited to go down to the main campus a lot and socialize. I get the impression that at the main campus, Mailman is like a mythical little school, way up in the north full of beautiful and lonely amazons. A pass to be able to enter the halls, is like the Golden Ticket (or a ticket to the Daily Show).
The social was pretty lame, but soo packed. Does it make me old to be complaining that there were too many people and it was too loud? Its weird not being around any males all day, to suddenly be confronted by large packs of them. But it was funny to see how disappointed the girls were that out of the whole lot, not a single guy was attractive. They still acted like fools though, trying to nab a man before Valentines Day. For some of those girls, it was the first time I saw them wearing make-up or dresses. It was like a gross meat market.
This week was also cool only a nerdy way. I got to use real DNA samples in lab to do LUMA assays. It took me like 2 days, but I ran 240 samples. Before then, I was only doing practice runs. Now I am officially part of research for Breast Cancer!
I'm taking 4 less units this semester than last, but right now there seems to be a lot more demands on my time. I have a lot of stuff due and soon, but while there's some worry in the back of my mind, I'm mostly indifferent and unenthusiastic about it all. I'm sure my classes are great--one of my profs is actually the editor in chief of the American Journal of Public Health--but right now I just want to get through these 15 weeks. I sat in on a three hour lecture last Thursday, doodling in my notebook, looking out into the distance and feeling like I was really wasting my time. I didn't hear a single thing that was said, but I feel like I've already heard it all before. It's a little early to be so disillusioned isnt it?
But at the same time that I stopped caring, I have been an industrious little ant piling away for the future. I've been in contact with a couple people for possible practicum opportunities--I have a meeting for the Ghana one I'd mentioned next week and some possibilities in Latin America that sound promising. I've also lined up two jobs for the semester--one at a DNA research lab and another as a Biostats tutor. On paper, at least, you wouldn't be able to tell that I'm not excited about any of it.
Meanwhile this week has been busy at the personal end of things. When I came back, I noticed that Judith's brother had moved into the living room. He had come to visit a few weekends last year (he lives in Pennsylvania) but this time things seem a lot more permanent. Apparently he lost his job a few months back and now his girlfriend kicked him out, so he moved back here "temporarily." The thing is, he's always around. And because I have less classes this semester and my jobs haven't started yet, I'm always around too. Unlike Judith and Amanda who have jobs and go to school, Alex just sits there. Or he always has friends over, shady looking friends. Last weekend, at 5 am, he comes stumbling in with some guys, all clearly under the influence of something. They're being loud and drunk, and one of them starts knocking on my door. I refuse to answer. I'm just lying there in bed, waiting for them to leave. Then they knock on Judith's door and she comes out, all het up, like "Are you serious? Are you SERIOUS??"
The next morning, I talk to Judith. I told her I was very uncomfortable with the situation last night. That these were strange men I knew nothing about coming into my home in the middle of the night and I did not feel secure. I asked her how long Alex was staying--I was hoping to get a reduction on rent since there are now 4 people living in the apartment. She promised me it wouldn't happen again, that she told Alex he couldn't do that, because "there are females sleeping". And she also said that the situation was "temporary" while Alex gets back on his feet. No timeline.
This morning, at 11 am the buzzer for the door downstairs is ringing and ringing. I'm expecting a book any day now, so I wake up and check who it is. He said "Alex." I buzz him in, thinking he forget his key, and then I'm thinking, that wasn't Alex's voice. Maybe he meant he was a friend of Alex. Now there's knocking on the front door and I'm knocking on Alex's living room door, and walking up and down the hallway, not sure what to do. I go to the door and ask who it is, then I knock on Alex's door, not sure if he's even home. Then I do it again. Eventually, Alex wakes up, and I just run back to my room while he answers the door. I hear the stranger being all confused, like who buzzed him in, why wouldn't she answer the door? I must have seemed strange.
Later on, Alex apologizes to me. Saying it was his uncle, but he wasn't expecting anyone so he didn't answer the buzzer. I guess Judith really let him have it, and made me sound like a big scaredy-cat.
The other morning, as I was walking down the hallway in my building, heading toward the stairs (I live on the 5th floor, but I ALWAYS take the stairs--I'm sure you guys know why), a young man and an older guy in like his late 40s were discussing something. The older guy was in his bathrobe, looking a bit disturbed. Anyway, I was walking past, and the old man said something to me in rapid-fire Spanish.
I've been pretty frustrated with my language skills in New York. I used to think that I had a good grasp on Spanish, but the way these Domincans speak goes way over my head. I think they drop their "s"s, not even lisp it or slur it, but just leave it out completely--They peak epanol.
Anyway, I was like umm, "I don't know..." He looked taken aback--I may be the only non-Spanish speaking person in the building. When I first moved in, everyone in the streets called me Chinita, but within the last few weeks people have started speaking Spanish to me, thinking that I'm one of them. I think its because I changed my eye makeup, or maybe I've just been acclimating to my surroundings--Like a chameleon or something.
So the younger guy translated, He said What's the name of the man in that apartment. And I was like, umm, what apartment? And he was like, your apartment, the one you just came out of. And i was like, there is no man that lives in my apartment. The older guy, looking a little calmer--I think maybe because everything was being said in English---he backed down and was like, Ok there is no man that lives in your apartment. And walked back down the stairs. I could see then, that he lives in the apartment directly below mine, on the 4th floor corner.
When I came back later that night, I went to Judith and I told her what happened. I think her brother or someone was visiting for a few days, so I wanted to warn her in case he was being too loud or something and annoying people downstairs. Judith was like "Oh that's Arnold. He's crazy, I've had to call the cops on him before." Apparently this has been going on for months now, where he says that theres a man yelling down at him from our apartment, telling him to kill himself.
It kind of reminded me of that voice I heard at 4am a few months ago. That scary raspy voice that was speaking in Spanish. I couldnt pick up what he said, but maybe Arnold isn't so crazy after all and there is some specter in the building that tries to get people to commit suicide. Eerie...Or maybe I'm just blending in more with the building and its people than I thought.
3: broadway plays watched (Phantom of the opera, Chicago, and Hair)
1: Radio City Hall Christmas Spectacular (the one with the Rockettes)
2: nights we stood in line for standby tickets to the Late Show with David Letterman
0: times we got to watch a live taping of the Late Show with David Letterman
1: walk in central park
3: movies watched (Law Abiding Citizen--DO NOT WATCH, Paranormal Activity, and Zombieland)
1: comedic improv show (Upright Citizens Brigade)
1: celebrity sighting (that bald guy from 30 Rock)
1: possible celebrity sighting (natalie portman in a big rain jacket, covering her face,entering letterman's studios)
5.5: number of classes skipped (1.5 blamed on letterman)
6: most amount of trains taken in one day
3: number of boxes of Papa Johns Garlic and Parmesan breadsticks consumed
27: price in USD of a 7-day unlimited metro card pass, which I lost the day after buying
6.5: number of Subway footlongs tor consumed
0: number of museums visited
7: number of taxis taken to Washington Heights
2: times we stopped at chicken and rice stand after a night of going out
11: times Lady Gaga came on the stereo in a bar/club/restaurant
99: times 'Empire state of mind' came on the stereo in a club
21: number of quarters we managed to compile for one load of laundry
40: amount of credits (USD) tor used up on an AT&T prepayment plan
8 and counting: number of items tor left behind
The usual tourist attractions: Empire State Building, Times Square, Madison Square Garden, Central Park, Morris Jumel Mansion, Rockefeller Center, Statue of Liberty
Odd New York Experiences: Watching an old lady get nearly run over at Penn Station, a rat running wild in the Middle of Times Square before getting squished by a bus, a Midget Bouncer at a club, the A train being closed off and boarded by NYPD as they searched for a suspect
Tor's worst meal: late night last hurrah at McDonalds consisting of a Big Mac, 10 pc Chicken McNuggets, 2 large fries, a large Sweet Tea and large Sprite (after we had come back from a steak dinner at a fancy French Restaurant)
Favorite Bar: Lit
Best Burger: Ruby's
Best Dessert: Le Monde
Best Ribs: Blue Smoke
to be continued if i remember anything more...