escaping new york

Born here. Raised here. College here. Married here. Lost my job here. And now it's time to go ...

[escapingnyc]

Vrrrrrrooooom!!!

I’m dealing with a lot these days.  My unemployment.  My husband’s unemployment.  My emotional homelessness.  I mean ... yeah, sure ... I have this great apartment but I can’t live in it till it’s officially sold.  At the moment we’re waiting for the guy to submit his packet to the board for approval so ...

So what CAN I think about?

The cross country road trip of course!  Initially when S and I were going to move from NYC to Portland, OR we had thought we’d take the road trip of a lifetime and just drive drive drive with no destinations (really) in mind ... just big pins in the map all across America and little stops anywhere and everywhere in between.  

Then S got the job at Nike and that poked a hole in the plan.  We still planned to drive cross country, but pretty much in a week ... with maybe 2 stops just to see some neat things (other than sleeping and rests of course).

So when S got unceremoniously dumped by Nike you have to look for the gift in the problem and say “hey - road trip here we come!!!!”

These days I’m doing research on every state/city we intend to hit: Philly, PA - West Virginia - Kentucky - Tennessee - Mississippi - New Orleans - Glendale TX (to see some of S’s relatives) - Austin - San Antonio - Marfa - El Paso - Juarez, Mexico - Tucson AZ - Phoenix, AZ, Grand Canyon - Las Vegas -  Death Valley - Yosemite,  then finally hit Cali and drive from, say, LA to San Francisco along PCH then just make our way to Portland.  

Sounds great, huh?  We have places like Graceland, Dollywood, Branson and other such tourist attractions staked out ... but also I’m doing a great deal of research of little small towns. Especially in Texas where you don’t want to just drive for miles when you could be hitting some great small town and kicking back with a cold one, right?

So, now that my dear departed Volkswagen Beetle has moved on to another state of being we’re in the market for a car.

It’s astonishing how cars look different in person versus a website.

I am sick of how all cars look alike -- and wanted something fun and unique.  Hell, I’d have bought another Beetle if the NEW new ones were no longer cute - 

you see how that’s not really a beetle - right?

I found a video explaining why all cars look alike - 

And that made me even more determined to get something snazzy and fun.

I did the general sweep of exactly what you’d expect: 

the FIAT 500

Adorable!  

the  2015 MINI Coupe

SO great!!!

the  2015 Dodge Challenger

HELL YEAH!!!! NOW THAT’S A CAR!!!

the Nissan Juke

and the 2015 Honda CRZ

When we saw the JUKE in person ... it was actually pretty lousy.  And that was a vehicle that I COMPLETELY wanted to love.  But I’m a rotund little 5′2 person and my husband is a largish 6′2 person and we both need to be comfy in a driver’s seat ... and the Juke -- at least according to us -- was made for skinny little short people.  And neither of us is that.

The Honda CRZ which I was SO effin’ excited about seeing in person wound up being a total bust.  I mean, it looks soOOOooo good in that picture!!!  but it turns out that it’s like  ... um ... NOT.

Surprisingly, this little beauty caught my eye completely unexpectedly at the Honda dealership (the 3rd we went to after Nissan and Toyota).

Ready?  Here she is.  The heretofore boring Honda Civic has gotten a makeover and I am SHOCKED at how cute she looks!!!

DAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAA-MN!!!  Are you looking at that car?  We saw this orange one in person and I have NEVER liked orange as a color at all and this one - this orange one - was BEAUTIFUL.  

Here it is from the back, in red:

What I really like is that this car has this amazing wonderful thing where you can fold the back seats down and open the trunk and get a hatch-back like thing happening with out having an actual hatchback.  So - you know - after having a beetle with all that going on back there this is very nice.

Anyway, this is the neat little car I’m thinking of getting to replace my beetle.  S. took it for a test drive and said it handled really well.  I will drive it once we’re closer to actually being able to purchase it but all I have to say is I DID NOT expect this to be a car I liked so much!!!!  Huh!!!!  So, I’ll see what happens.   

[escapingnyc]

[escapingnyc]

Weebles Wobble ... But My Parents Fall Down

A whole lot has changed in the last month or so.  

My husband lost the Nike job and came back to live with me at my parent’s house in Brooklyn.  This was a mixed blessing - not what we intended at all but now at least I don’t have to do the last leg of the move with out him.  Plus I missed him so, so, so much.

Also, we put our house up for sale - beautifully staged - and it sold in four days. So, yeah.  All that racing around, working hard, tearing my hair out -- that was worth it. 

We’re both just living here now with my parents waiting for all the dotting of the “i”s and crossing of the “t”s and that will take some time.  As we live here we’re helping out as much as we can by doing housework for my 80 year old mom and helping her with my 81 year old dad who had the beginnings of dementia and Parkinson’s disease.  He’s like a big toddler with OCD.  In between that we’ve been looking for cars to buy, planning a cross country trip, and moving some things over to this house in preparation for the 2-part move of our stuff.  All in all, things are fine.

Then, poof, my mom fell down a few days ago.  See, she’s a toughie but she’s just not the 40 year old she believes herself to be in her head.  She was literally FEET away from being safely home and BAM - down she went.  Well, it wasn’t that simple.

This is my childhood home and for as long as I can remember kids have been climbing on that fence around our airy.  It’s different than the other fences and lends itself well to climbing.  “Get off the fence!” I’ve heard, oh ... probably four million times in the last 4 decades.  So ... my mom had gone to the beauty parlor and was coming up the street and saw a little kid climbing on the fence and thought he was going to topple over - head first - into the airy and split his head open on the concrete.  (He’s the 3 year old next door neighbor kid).  So she ran over, pulled him off, set him on the ground, lost her balance, toppled over and landed badly.  

After calling 911 and having her checked out at the emergency all the X rays and CAT Scans (or MRIs - whatever) confirmed no break of hip, leg  ... nothing.  But she can’t walk at all.  Hmmmm.  So she’s in the hospital and will get physical therapy.

Meanwhile my dad who is doddering at best is now in need of constant watching so he doesn’t get into trouble.  Only a few nights without my mom and he’s already managed to knock over his bedside lamp and break the bulb ... and this morning we (a floor away) awoke to the sound of my dad calling out for my husband.

S went downstairs to find daddy “laying on his back like a little turtle” or - according to my dad “I was laying there like a chubby little baby”.  Both endearing descriptions of a rather frightening situation ... basically my dad on the floor after a fall.  With my mother in the hospital due to a fall.  So -- you know.  Can y’all stop falling?

Bigger picture of course leaves me quite concerned about what happens when we leave.  I feel like my parents would love for us to live here with them till their end of days now ... I know it’s made my dad happier to have me and S here together (despite one rageful outburst with dad screaming “get the hell out!!!” which is a byproduct more of his dementia than any real sentiment of wanting us out).

But I’m determined to move to Portland despite all this chaos, because dammit that’s the plan.

So start learning to wobble, mom and dad.  Meanwhile ... I’m starting to research Nannies for Grannies.  And yeah, it’s a thing. 

[escapingnyc]

Video of collapse as it happens - 123 2 AVE NYC

It’s ironic that the one day I decide to go into Manhattan after weeks and weeks I make plans to be BLOCKS away from this event.  I was on avenue A and 11th Street which is like five blocks away.    Typical for Manhattan ... we didn't even know this was going on even though we were so close.  Just another day in the big big city.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not saying “oh, ho hum ... I’m a jaded new yorker, this does not faze me” -- It certainly does.  Nor am I saying “oh, big deal ... I’m a survivor of 9/11 ... this is a drop in the bucket compared to that day” ... because - um, no.  I’m not saying that either.  Nor am I saying “See!  It’s stuff like this that’s making me RACE for Portland!! I don’t want to live in a city where this type of thing happens!!!!”  I’m not saying that either.  

I think, basically, I’m saying that in a city as densely packed as NYC there is a higher percentage of accidents per square foot, and you’re just as likely to run into a famous person on any given day, a mugger on any given day, a tragedy on any given day.  A New Yorker needs to learn how to pack away the reactions or else you’d be spending your day reacting to every single thing rather than living through the circus that is this city.  

The irony is that my friend, Emily, and I were catching up after months of not seeing each other and actually touched on the fact that our family STILL sometimes worry about us in Manhattan.  I told her “yeah, my (80 year old) mom said to me today ‘be careful when you go into Manhattan today - I heard there’s a crazy man running around’ and I said ‘really mom?  Just the one?’ ”  And we had a good laugh.  But we had an extensive anecdotal exchange of how our parents will tell us - seasoned New Yorkers - to “be careful” to “watch out” to “always be on guard”.  And while we were laughing about how paranoid our good ole parents could be, the streets were exploding and the buildings were collapsing just BLOCKS away.  And THAT, Alanis, is ironic.

[escapingnyc]

19 Injured In Apparent Gas Explosion, Collapse At East Village Buildings

A gas explosion ripped through four buildings and ended up leveling three of them, leaving a total of 19 people injured in a bustling section of the East Village Thursday afternoon.

[escapingnyc]

Normalizing

Life is slowly getting steady and normal.

I've been living at my mom and dad's house for five days now, and it's been five days of company, 3 meals a day on a set schedule, trips to do errands, and a great night's sleep each night.  Meaning: the isolation, desperation and misery I felt a week ago has vaporized and I can get back to feeling like myself and looking toward the future.

S is doing great in Portland.  He has a good relationship with his landlord who has allowed him to be late with the rent this upcoming month.  We're just hitting the last of our huge expenses and it's been tough to pay for everything.  But she's known him long enough now to know that he's good for it, so that's nice.

I've cancelled my phone number ... the one I had since I was 24.  In a way it's a little sad - in a way, who cares?  I get very attached to things I shouldn't be attached to.  Being here at my parents' in this transitional state makes me feel better than I have in weeks - proving even more that I don't need the things that I thought I did to feel good.  I need stability and happiness.  An old phone number won't give me that.  Moving forward will.

[escapingnyc]

Moving Out

Hmmm.  I often wondered about divorce.  Divorce after 20 years.  Like, how could you marry someone, love them so much, create a WHOLE life together, and then just walk away?

I'm not saying that leaving this apartment is EXACTLY like divorcing someone.  Not at all - for goodness sakes I'm not callous enough to equate a thing with a person.

HOWEVER ...

When I moved into this apartment 20 years ago I remember walking through the door of the entry way downstairs.  It literally (and I mean LITERALLY) took my breath away.  I remember the gasp as I looked up at the grand staircase that winded up 3 flights ... the majestic skylight up at the top ... I remember feeling under-dressed for the hallway.  I remember saying "If I ever live here I'll have to wear a ball gown every time I walk down these stairs!"  It just all was so beautiful.

Then I got to this sweet little apartment at the top, and again, had to stop for a moment, I was so overcome by how charming it was.  Love at first sight.  Absolutely love at first sight.  And, in the way that you fall hard and fast for someone (or something) I overlooked a lot of faults and went for the charming, gorgeous nuances that made this place unique and unlike any other place that anyone else lived in.

Little by little, as I lived here the apartment grew normal ... as I would think being married to, say, Johnny Depp becomes normal.  Take away the stunning glittery things of this place and it's just an apartment - just like Johnny Depp is just a man.

By the time I got married I was ready to "amicably" separate from this apartment.  I still liked it,but it was too small ... hard to navigate with 2 grown people.  Not to mention we were often unemployed together and, as I'd mentioned, never more than a room's distance apart.  But said unemployment, and sickness kept us here ... the way - I guess - some people stay in a marriage because of the children.  It's just too hard to upbraid when there's already a taxing situation.

But now I'm in the acrimonious part of the relationship with this apartment.  None of my stuff is here anymore, and what's more - the staging furniture makes it look like a whole other place.  It's like looking at the one you love who is now in a mid-life crisis and saying "I don't even recognize you anymore!" because lord know I don't.  I absolutely don't recognize not one corner here in this place.

Today I'm moving out.  For good, essentially.  I'm waiting for the electrician, and then my firiend's husband is coming to help bring down the last of the clutter.  Then he'll help me get to my mom's house and that's it.  I'm officially no longer living here.

Sure, I'll still own it - but ... Um ... I'm moving out today.  And a year ago I still had mixed feeling about that. But today ... instead of being sentimental, instead of saying "oh this is the last time I'll wake up in this bed, looking out that skylight, bla-di-blah" I kinda just said "I can't fucking wait to get the fuck out of this place".

So -- again, not EXACTLY comparing this whole process to a divorce.  Just making note of the simliarities.  And just saying I think I understand how something can actually grow hateful after 20 years no matter how beautifully it started.

[surfacenvy-deactivated20220104]

[haleyincarnate]

(via imgTumble)

[kushandwizdom]

[kushandwizdom]

ThisLoveQuote

[escapingnyc]

this is absolutely true.  because every now and then someone comes along and says "I've thought of you a million times" or "I've always wanted to be with you" ... it happened a few times in my life from unexpected and out-of-the-blue sources and when it did it was always surprising ("Me?  But I'm no one special!")  

It's magical.  Don't think no one's thinking of you.  They are.  THEY ARE.

[escapingnyc]

Today was a very bad day.    A day filled with screaming on the phone (to S) not  AT him - although yes, AT him ... but TO him ABOUT all this other stuff.

Thing is, I have a severe anxiety disorder.  I'm very close to agoraphobic at times.  I'm Hypersensitive.   Now, leave me alone have me go through all this crap with selling this house all by my god damn fucking self and you see how I am slowly unravelling.  Add to that the fact that we really, I mean REALLY are out of money and you start - maybe? to see what this is doing to me emotionally.

I am a wreck.  So much so that I cut my wrist with a box cutter today.  Unfortunately - well, fortunately - the blade was so dull from all the ACTUAL boxcutting that it didn't so much draw blood as much as just give me red, raw deep scratches.  Painful and awful, but not like when I was younger and I was a hardcore cutter.

I also drank to get drunk - alone.  Another thing I never do.  And I smoked a cigarette which - um, cancer.    I gave up smoking long before I was diagnosed but I still have a half smoked pack I keep in the freezer for emotional emergencies.  Seems like I've turned to them 3 times in the last 2 months after not touching this emergency pack I bought 4 years ago (which was 2 years after I quit).  I'm really good about quitting cold turkey - and it's almost like I wasn't a smoker for 30 years.  Which I was  (because yes, my kiddies, I started at TEN and was full time by the age of 13. RIDICULOUS). 

Anyway, my point is, today was full of crappy self harm and self hate and wanting to have protection and comfort and finding neither.  And only knowing I have fucking MONTHS before I get to portland. MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP...

[escapingnyc]

Wave My Magic Wand (sorta)

Friday was so great.  I had this big pile of stuff in the middle of my small apartment that had to get down 3 flights of stairs:

That's not the part that's great.  That's the part that sucks.  The part that's great is how fast it all got downstairs and out thanks to my fabulous friend and her amazing husband and son.  Every single item is now either in the basement ready for the movers to take, or in the bulk garbage area ready to be taken away.    Also, my friend's son had some use for a few things that were still good and I was happy that not everything was getting junked just because I couldn't take it (best of all was a lava lamp that I loved for years -- the thought of that cracking or exploding on the way to portland made it more trouble than it was worth, but M was thrilled to get it and I was so happy to pass the lava lamp torch.  Everyone should have  one to stare into and feel romantic next to.  I may not have a lot of friends left, but the ones I have are great.

[newyorker]

One week ago, the magazine relocated to 1 World Trade Center. Photo editor Jackson Krule documented the move on our photo department’s Instagram feed.

[escapingnyc]

THE NEW YORKER relocated.  I, *a* New Yorker ... I am relocating too.  Something about that photo of the sign being taken off the wall ... wow.  That just got to me.  Little by little I am taking my own New Yorker-ness off the wall as my mind, soul, heart is blown in little pieces to my new Portland home.  I'm packing up too ... I'm staring out the window too ... I understand.  This New Yorker understands.

[escapingnyc]

Last week was really productive.  The Mr. Fix-It guy came to assemble my couch and table.  

Ooooh - pretty!  He also helped me hang the curtain -

it "puddles" a bit at the bottom but that's fine for now.  So now my all-white apartment is starting to look pulled together.  Mr. Fix-It also fixed the dishwasher and he tried to fix the light in the bedroom but after an hour he just had to throw in the towel and say "um --- possibly you need a full on electrician for this".  So - got a number from my dad for that.

After that guy left my really good friend from high-school came over.  We'd been so close back in the day ... then life gets in the way but not like "oh now we're no longer friends" more like "hmmm - I wonder how she's doing?"  When Facebook came around I reluctantly joined (and now NEVER check in on b/c - um - FACEBOOK.  I fucking hate all that incessant yammering.

BUT it did bring a few great friends back into my life, and she's one of them.  We've known each other - um ... wow ... 32 years ????  Jesus.  Fuck.  That's a fucking long time.  Well, whatever.

Point is she's like both exactly the same as she'd been but amazingly different because she just got better with age.  Same amazing wit and clear wisdom.  Just so fucking smart and knows me so well, even tho we didn't have a lot of major events happen around each other.  I'd say we lost touch in our early 20s and just got back maybe 3 years ago?  Regardless - she came over and helped me throw out crap ... like expired cans of food and just basically thin out the heard of items that no longer need to be here.  (like - I'm REALLY moving out now, so I don't need to keep all this mustard.   But, not like the mustard, cuz I DO need the mustard).

While she was here the window repair guy came - sweet as anything.  He was adorable, replaced 3 panes of glass and bam - all beautiful again.   It's like I'm doing everything to this apartment that I should have done when I actually lived here except - cancer.  And, except - crippling depression due to 2 amazing adults being underemployed for most of marriage.  (I've mentioned my husband has a masters degree?  And, at one point, was driving 2 hours away to make SEVEN DOLLARS AN HOUR because that's how desperate he was?   And when people say "suck it up and apply to Starbucks" do you understand that STARBUCKS WILL TAKE ONE LOOK AT YOU, AND YOUR OVERQUALIFIED ASS AND GIVE YOUR JOB TO A KID.  Just saying.  Hence the move.  And the immense joy that S is working now.  And SCREW people who say "Fuck Corporate America" because IT HAS ITS PLACE.  Just like little green apples and phone sex workers.  All of which I approve of.

After glass guy was done my friend and I went to a diner and had such fun ... like a tremendous amount of fun.  She's coming back this Friday with her husband and son to help me get my crap 3 floors down -- some stuff to be thrown out (we're at the "do I need this 17 year old Dustbuster that's kinda sucky?  Or in this case not sucky? No?  Throw it out!" phase) and some stuff to be put into the basement because I want to keep it but it's making the apartment look cluttered (see STAGING  - seriously can't have crap in your apartment or it won't sell).  So I have a big pile of crap in the middle of my small apartment waiting to be hauled down and out or down and further down. 

I tried hauling some of it out myself and nearly gave myself a hernia.  I don't think the real estate pp in Portland understand how excited I get when I see ONE FLOOR and GARBAGE CANS RIGHT OUT SIDE THE HOUSE (not 3 floors plus one 16 step stoop).  

Tomorrow my mom's coming here to work on the laundry/clothing situation. S's stuff can go into a big suitcase and go right into the basement till the moving men take all our stuff.  My laundry can go home with her --- to wear while I'm still living in Brooklyn (but not in this apartment).  And useless stuff can get thrown away.   Like unmatched socks.  

Meanwhile today I'm hiding out in my apt (with no more shutters - see picture above) because for like the 50th damn time in the last 12 months they're filming right the fuck across the street from me.  And not just on the sidewalk and crap, but there's a huge cherrypicker where pp can see right into my apartment.  Fuck New York. I am so done with living in a fucking film studio.  I mean, it seriously NEVER ENDS on this block.  SO DONE with this crap.

[delta-breezes]

[writerswritecompany]

Source for Comic

[escapingnyc]

Happy Valentine's Day!  This Inkygirl.com comic is so bittersweet on a day like today.  S and I spent YEARS of our marriage unemployed (and by that I mean temping with long stretches of no assignments, or him waiting for assignments and me battling the beginnings of cancer) and we were NEVER more than arm's length away from each other.  Our apartment is small to begin with, and available seating was ... the couch (comfiest) the bed (also comfy but not as comfy for being on the computer) and later on, the kitchen island with 2 stools that seemed most conducive to computer work but DANG those chairs were not meant to be occupied for more than 3 hours!

Even if S. and I were on different furniture (like - one on bed, one on table) we were never more than, maybe, 24 feet away from each other.  Most often tho were were side by side on the couch and always at arm's length.

Which is why being 3K miles away for this long is a bit of a flip / flop for us ... but surprisingly easy.

What I'm saddest about this Valentine's day is not that I'm alone -- god knows  I spent more 2/14's un-partnered than partnered.  Nah.  I'm fine being on my own.  But what makes it sorta sad is that this is the day S proposed to me in 2008 ... and it was magical and wonderful and so, so, so sweet and this is the first Valentine's that I've been without him, the first time I can't look at his little face and kiss him and say "awww - remember?"

On the phone last night we said that this experience has made us feel closer than ever, though.  Long late night phone calls, a few shaky skpes where we mainly blow kisses at each other, calls of despair, calls of triumph ... each of us doing so much with out the other, but knowing it's FOR the other ... for US.

Well, my love - all the way across the USA today -- happy Valentine's day.  

xoxoxo

[escapingnyc]

mr. fixit

Strangely much of my internet is down ... except some of tumlr (like, I can get my dash but can't go on people's pages), Pinterest, gmail, facebook (which I NEVER go on, but which I plowed through in desperation yesterday) and  .. goodreads. A  strange mix.  Netflix is down, and there's no radio or tv here in the apartment so I spent a lot of yesterday night scrolling  the above mentioned sites ... then read some kindle and went to sleep.

Today most of the internet is still down ... but not the above sites.  S. was trying to explain why some sites would weather a Verizon outtage while some wouldn't (in very technical terms) but frankly - bored.  

But bottom line is- I wasn't able to google anyone to come help me put my furniture together.  Luckily S had no such internet problems.  He found a guy in my area who specializes in furniture assembly -- who will also take a look at this light that isn't working ... who may also help put my track lighting in and also fix the dishwasher thingy that broke and we got the replacement part but just need it snapped in.

He was nice and sounded like he knew his stuff.  He'll be here on Thursday provided that the couch is here by then.

Mom is coming today just to help me with ... dunno.  Wrapping my head around stuff.    And my friend (like - my ONE FRIEND) is coming Wednesday to help with more stuff.

I'm definitely kicking a lot of stuff to the curb today - literally.  I'm in total throw away mode.  Like ... I'm not keeping broken crap.  Out, out out.  I can't stop to mourn the passage of a breakfast barstool now.  (snicker).  Come on. 

[escapingnyc]

empty

I came home today and my apartment is both empty and full.

Empty of most of my most important possessions ... but full of mess and chaos (though I will say the painters did an amazing job and left the place pretty clean).

Still, it's just not home anymore.  Fairly unrecognizable.  And I have so much to do.  So, so, so much.  I'm thinking of looking for one of those handy-men for a day to help me get stuff done.  I seriously can not do this shit on my own.  Things like take down a bunch of lights from the track lighting and putting up other lights (I'm too short, even with a ladder.  S. was 1 foot taller than me).  

Things like bringing oodles of boxes either up here into this closet in the bedroom or way way way down a million flights (well - five ... but the last flight is scary) ... into the basement.

Things like assembling all the furniture that has come un-assembled.

I don't need a man - I just need another person.  So, handyman ... handygal.  Whatevs.  I just need someone here with me.  Now would be the time to have looked into having a cousin or a sibling.  Hmmmm.