warm times, wet times

an observation

The weather is staying above sixty (sometimes above seventy, too; it was eighty and ninety when I was gone on vacation I hear.). And wet pretty often, so far. I'm not used to warm ever mingling with wet. In Seattle, it's cold/cool and drizzly nine and a half months of the year. Then there is the glorious july and august where it's warm and dry, and we go back to our rainy seasons stunned by how lovely summer was for a good few months.

Not so much dryness here... quite humid already. And lots of thundershowers, with loud thunder and lightning, and much more aggressive rain. Today it was raining so hard, and so much, a few coworkers and I stopped our corporate drudgery for a few minutes to observe and mock the runners/crouchers on Broadway from the 12th floor above. Looked like Frogger. The size of the raindrops was incredible. Made being in the office kind of a relief for a few minutes.

The rain brings runoff (now I'm getting into technical jargon, I know, stick with me), and it makes a relatively gross combination here in New York. The sidewalks are the receptacles of every vile substance you can imagine -dogs, drunks, thousands of bags of garbage waiting for pickup everyday, innumerable things I'd like to not have to describe. When it rains, it cleanses, but it's also releasing and moving all that filth around, and the pedestrians are caught in the muck. Somehow the drains here are often set right at the crosswalk, which makes for torrential rivers of drainage rushing into pools forming where you step down into the street, or when it backs up, and oh it does, it's these deep ponds of god-knows-what's-floating-in-there, creeping up the wheelchair ramps to the sidewalk. It's no wonder Wellies are so characteristic on the feet of New York ladies. I've already wrecked a couple pairs of ballet flats. They back up the most dramatically in the snow, when the melt begins and slush clogs them up for yards. It seems like we'll be marooned on the sidewalk in all seasons, though, from what I've heard about the 100-degree humidity of summer.

Who thought of putting storm drains at crosswalk intersections? When did planners think that was the best alternative? Seriously, what 1905 engineer strategized this, I want to understand the rationale.

I was just thinking about how when a raindrop falls on your head, it has fallen thousands and thousands of feet. Shouldn't that hurt? Kind of blowing my mind.

cats are uninterested in reason

observations.

things my cat wants to do:

1. tell you about it right now
2. drink from bathtub faucet
3. knock pen off of table
4. eat feathered earring
5. eat feathered barrette
6. eat the plant
7. dance on chest while you try to sleep
8. eat through breadbag and crust of bread until realizing it's actually just bread inside (once a month)
9. individually remove books from shelf with paw to see if there's room behind to hide (no)
10. pose in the window for passers-by
11. sleep on couch
12. sleep on bed
13. sleep on chair
14. sleep in bathtub
15. race down hallway
16. drag and drop stick at feet for fetching (like a canine)
17. get stuck in pocket-door closet when presence inside undiscovered
18. push mouse under open door to other side. WHERE DID IT GO!?!! oh thank god- just over there.
19. escape into apartment building hallway to become freaked out and disoriented 3.5 seconds later, returning to apartment (once a week)
20. eat food. no, not that food.

things my cat does not want to do

1. wear collar
2. lie where you want it to
3. go in the pet carrier
4. travel by car
5. travel by plane
6. be touched by children
7. see children
8. meet new adults
9. meet new animals
10. be asked to leave the couch
11. be asked to leave the suitcase
12. be asked to leave the shower
13. be in the shower when it is turned on
14. have edward-scissor-nails trimmed
15. stop licking the other cat's butt
16. look at you for the photo
17. take the pill
18. take the pill crushed in food
19. take the pill while wrapped up in blanket like burrito, mouth pried open with both hands, growling and spitting
20. ever stop sprinkling beautiful hairs all over creation

un-shutterbug

I usually take an unhealthy amount of photos in my off-time. This time, I curiously took about six photos in my visit back to Seattle, of obscure content. Not sure if that's a good sign, but here I present four of them, all in poor focus.

Kate, Jeff, and Dave eat tacos.


Stewart Street, through the windows of Entre Nous.


Yann Tiersen at Neumo's.


Neumo's crowd.

re-entry

There's nothing like a 5-hour plane ride to catch up on the calmly-sitting-down activities one misses out on while busy with the daily distractions of life. I find that sometimes I don't find time to do these calmer activities I love as well; it is not until I have limited options that I return to the taking-in: periodicals, novels, reflections.

I'm headed back from a visit to my native Northwest. It's the first time I've been back since settling in in New York City. What an experience. I was badly in need of a break from a stressful work-heavy life. As soon as I set foot in Seattle, it was like resuming my life in a parallel universe- a glamorized one, where everyone is elated to see you every day, and you don't have to work for a living.

It has made me melancholy, however. I am having a blast with my current life in New York City, but visiting my old haunts and immersing myself back in my considerably heftier and deeper social circles that I developed over many years in Seattle makes me reflect upon my decision to leave. What if I had turned right instead of left at the fork in the road? It's not as if I left Seattle to return to it preserved the same- others' lives have evolved as well: relocation, newly single friends, changed careers, and babies are all things that I experience from afar by having chosen wings over roots.

The diversity and dynamism of New York City continues to delight me, but as a six-month resident I am by no means at home there. Returning to the place that formed me, the culture which gave me my values and sense of place in the world hit me more than I expected on this trip. In New York I learn to live and succeed among the A-types; I find myself proactively searching to find social and recreational opportunities in a sea broad with them, but which is not easy to penetrate in depth. The sheer magnitude is one thing; the added layer of the limited personal sphere (mine is about 215 square feet) within the grand urban circus also makes the contrast between a previously intimate social circle and the social experience in the dense mega-city- loud bars and restaurants full of slews of beautifully-adorned people who may be delightful and insightful but have no ties to you. It is only by passing thousands of these people on the way to the bar/bathroom/barista that you may meet someone you'll connect with in a way that's deeper than a bump, glance, or few lines of flirtation. There is no equal to having the joy and comfort of a deep social circle.

I also miss the culture of Seattle and the West Coast. Though I find myself fascinated by the directness and outgoing tendencies of New Yorkers, the richness of art and culture in the city, and delight in the depth of history and architectural richness that it offers in comparison to the west coast, there are plenty of differences I notice in terms of culture and values that make me miss Seattle. The idealism and cerebral nature of the northwest- there are a lot of people who genuinely aim to use their lives as tools for good in the world. There is more of an aim for personal success that fuels those in New York. It may be the circles I ran in in Seattle, but I miss the we're-in-this-together mentality of the (liberal and urban, yes) west coast.

And so I return to New York, with my rockin' East Village apartment location, 2.5 close friends, office full of corporate growing pains, transition, and layoffs, and increasingly scorching warm-season temperatures, and I wonder what my duration will be here. Will I feel like more of a local in another year, and not ponder the what-ifs I do now? Will I fall in love with a person / a group of people / my career/ a neighborhood that will make me feel rooted and calm and content, or will the bright lights and big city maintain my wonder for a while, but allow me to move on after a year or two?

On verra... But I shall continue to miss the air in the northwest with my every breath. If you have lived in another major city, you likely know what I'm talking about. Seattle air is incomparably clean and crisp and fresh, smelling like rain and healthy soil and feeling like therapy itself as it courses through your lungs on a cool evening. New York air isn't bad at all, compared to many European and American cities I've visited (sorry Rome, you were somewhat an atmospheric ashtray/stadium restroom)- but the Gotham air is a little stale and humid on a good day, and biting and blustery on a bad one.

Signing off in my re-entry to the bright lights, big city...