No place like home
Jun. 25th, 2006 11:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwynOMG, I am at skip eleventymillion on my flist and I finally just had to give up. The hotel in NYC actually charged you to use the business center internet connection to check your mail (I guess that's NY for ya, but I've never stayed at a single hotel that does that), and when I was in the office I didn't have time to do much more than scan to see if there was anything urgent in the home mail. So, if there's anything you think I need to know (like, the southern hemisphere blew up, or kittycats were suddenly outlawed in Seattle), or would want to know (like, you got married or had a baby or bought a car or just had some new ice cream you really enjoyed), please let me know! I can't keep up! I also had way more email than I ever usually get in two weeks just in the three days I was gone.
One of the worst things about short trips to different time zones is that you never get the chance to get acclimated. I had to get up at 3:30 am to catch my plane (and Shuttle Express was late enough I had to actually call them and say, um, hello, plane to catch?), only to get there and find out it was cancelled (April Fool's!! After waiting in line and walking to the farthest end of the insanely long new A terminal, they told me that the flight was still on, though they didn't change the board for another half hour, and everyone was in a tizzy till they figured out maybe they should announce the problem because they were telling people all the Delta flights were cancelled), and then we finally got in and I had to rush off and do stuff. And it was OMG so hot, so humid. I was sweating like a pig by the time I got to the library and it was worse inside. And I was so, so tired, and we could not get a cab back to the hotel, so hot sweaty blister-feeted me and my coworkers, one of whom was in high heels and quite visibly pregnant, had to walk the mile back, trying to hail a cab the whole way (I am not averse to standing in the street with my arm out and bellowing, but it did me no good at all). Even the veteran NYers were baffled by why we could not get a fackin' cab. And I was so exhausted, but I had to get up again at the equivalent of 3 in the morning for me to go to a boring, annoying all-day meeting at the Newsweek building.
It was an interesting space but I never got much chance to explore it. Great view out the window when I wasn't falling asleep, though. Fortunately afterward, other people were blowing off the dinner, so after getting the work done that we needed to, a couple of my co-workers and I vanished to a great little loungey place on 54th and had drinks and snacks. I got the bad news that my fellow Seattle bureau copyeditor is leaving next month, which whittles us down to three nice people on the team and two bitches who make it miserable, and that pretty much crushed my spirit, but then my friend Keith rolled into town and we met up at the hotel and hung around for a while as I whined and complained about how fucking hot it was and how tired I was. Then we went off in search of a cash machine where i wouldn't get gouged on fees, and were caught in torrential rain. Yay. On the way, though, we saw a Thai/sushi restaurant that I wanted to go back to. Keith was all "let's walk to Grand Central, you have to see it now" and I was like, look, I'm wet, I'm sweaty, I'm exhausted, I just want to mosey slowly around till we get back toward the restaurant, and then we'll eat something, and see. By then it was 2 in my morning, so after dinner, we went back to the hotel. (And oh,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
killabeez, Keith was so grateful for the discs, you can't believe how happy he was. He said to thank you a million times.)
I wasn't impressed with the hotel at all, especially because they put me in a room that had the smallest, most godawful bathroom I've ever seen. The toilet was right under the tiny midget sink, and the walls were so tight and narrow that I couldn't fully raise my arms if I stood facing the door, so I had to contort myself into these ridiculous positions just to pee. The shower was this tiny slate-tile enclosed thing that was so small the water couldn't not go everywhere, and I couldn't get my arms up above my head to shampoo without scraping my elbows on the rough tile and grout or doing these contortions where I looked like Janice what's-her-name in Jim Kirk's body. I'll put up a pic of it for amusement's sake.
On Sat. morning we met my coworkers for lunchy brunchy stuff at a nice little place on 64th, and it was a lot cooler in the city after the rain, but still pretty hot for me. By then, I was just starting to get time shifted, only then it was time to go home a bit later. My Seattle colleague and I got a cab back to the airport, and the plane actually boarded sort of almost on time, and I had managed to finagle an aisle seat on the exit row again by some bizarre twist of fate (they wouldn't let me get a new seat no matter how hard I tried, but after all the people had disappeared from the line at the gate, I went up and asked about an upgrade, which they said I couldn't do, but he shifted a few things around and gave me the exit row, for which I thanked him profusely -- and made a huge mental fuck you again to United for stealing my seat from me last year and refusing to do anything for me). I have been on much longer plane trips, but it was the longest plane ride I feel like I've ever had. I kind of drifted in and out for a while, but when I was really awake, I couldn't believe that we had five hours still to go. It was freakishly long. It felt like 16 hours, not six. I think it hurt worse because my back was killing me by then.
When I don't get to NYC for a long time, I forget how unbelievably ghastly that city smells and how utterly filthy, noisy, and repugnant the ground level is. I seem to remember the good parts, and conveniently forget that it's Blade Runner incarnate, and as Keith and I picked our way through a cone-dotted and garbage-strewn detour around a perpetually dumping line of garbage-trucks in front of a building being gutted, the rainwater washing more garbage in our path, the lights flashing all around us, I really felt like I was living in that cityscape of the movie. Only with stench-o-rama for your olfactory pleasure. I really like it -- the getting dinner at ten instead of the restaurants closing then, the cool old buildings, the sheer volume of stuff to see and do, but the cost of the stink and the garbage, the smell of dog and human urine assaulting your nose everywhere, and the insane traffic and neverending noise overwhelm me and I realize that I can't handle that city for longer than short trip bursts. I'm a true westerner -- I need space, I need air, give me room lots of room...
I took some pics which I will try to put up later, not that many people will need to see them. I think half my flist is either people who live in NY, have lived there before, or go there all the time, so it's nothing special. My only regret is not having time to shop, what with the mother ship there right near me (Saks 5th Ave.), but oh well. Next time, next time, once I get my senses cleansed.
One of the worst things about short trips to different time zones is that you never get the chance to get acclimated. I had to get up at 3:30 am to catch my plane (and Shuttle Express was late enough I had to actually call them and say, um, hello, plane to catch?), only to get there and find out it was cancelled (April Fool's!! After waiting in line and walking to the farthest end of the insanely long new A terminal, they told me that the flight was still on, though they didn't change the board for another half hour, and everyone was in a tizzy till they figured out maybe they should announce the problem because they were telling people all the Delta flights were cancelled), and then we finally got in and I had to rush off and do stuff. And it was OMG so hot, so humid. I was sweating like a pig by the time I got to the library and it was worse inside. And I was so, so tired, and we could not get a cab back to the hotel, so hot sweaty blister-feeted me and my coworkers, one of whom was in high heels and quite visibly pregnant, had to walk the mile back, trying to hail a cab the whole way (I am not averse to standing in the street with my arm out and bellowing, but it did me no good at all). Even the veteran NYers were baffled by why we could not get a fackin' cab. And I was so exhausted, but I had to get up again at the equivalent of 3 in the morning for me to go to a boring, annoying all-day meeting at the Newsweek building.
It was an interesting space but I never got much chance to explore it. Great view out the window when I wasn't falling asleep, though. Fortunately afterward, other people were blowing off the dinner, so after getting the work done that we needed to, a couple of my co-workers and I vanished to a great little loungey place on 54th and had drinks and snacks. I got the bad news that my fellow Seattle bureau copyeditor is leaving next month, which whittles us down to three nice people on the team and two bitches who make it miserable, and that pretty much crushed my spirit, but then my friend Keith rolled into town and we met up at the hotel and hung around for a while as I whined and complained about how fucking hot it was and how tired I was. Then we went off in search of a cash machine where i wouldn't get gouged on fees, and were caught in torrential rain. Yay. On the way, though, we saw a Thai/sushi restaurant that I wanted to go back to. Keith was all "let's walk to Grand Central, you have to see it now" and I was like, look, I'm wet, I'm sweaty, I'm exhausted, I just want to mosey slowly around till we get back toward the restaurant, and then we'll eat something, and see. By then it was 2 in my morning, so after dinner, we went back to the hotel. (And oh,
killabeez, Keith was so grateful for the discs, you can't believe how happy he was. He said to thank you a million times.)I wasn't impressed with the hotel at all, especially because they put me in a room that had the smallest, most godawful bathroom I've ever seen. The toilet was right under the tiny midget sink, and the walls were so tight and narrow that I couldn't fully raise my arms if I stood facing the door, so I had to contort myself into these ridiculous positions just to pee. The shower was this tiny slate-tile enclosed thing that was so small the water couldn't not go everywhere, and I couldn't get my arms up above my head to shampoo without scraping my elbows on the rough tile and grout or doing these contortions where I looked like Janice what's-her-name in Jim Kirk's body. I'll put up a pic of it for amusement's sake.
On Sat. morning we met my coworkers for lunchy brunchy stuff at a nice little place on 64th, and it was a lot cooler in the city after the rain, but still pretty hot for me. By then, I was just starting to get time shifted, only then it was time to go home a bit later. My Seattle colleague and I got a cab back to the airport, and the plane actually boarded sort of almost on time, and I had managed to finagle an aisle seat on the exit row again by some bizarre twist of fate (they wouldn't let me get a new seat no matter how hard I tried, but after all the people had disappeared from the line at the gate, I went up and asked about an upgrade, which they said I couldn't do, but he shifted a few things around and gave me the exit row, for which I thanked him profusely -- and made a huge mental fuck you again to United for stealing my seat from me last year and refusing to do anything for me). I have been on much longer plane trips, but it was the longest plane ride I feel like I've ever had. I kind of drifted in and out for a while, but when I was really awake, I couldn't believe that we had five hours still to go. It was freakishly long. It felt like 16 hours, not six. I think it hurt worse because my back was killing me by then.
When I don't get to NYC for a long time, I forget how unbelievably ghastly that city smells and how utterly filthy, noisy, and repugnant the ground level is. I seem to remember the good parts, and conveniently forget that it's Blade Runner incarnate, and as Keith and I picked our way through a cone-dotted and garbage-strewn detour around a perpetually dumping line of garbage-trucks in front of a building being gutted, the rainwater washing more garbage in our path, the lights flashing all around us, I really felt like I was living in that cityscape of the movie. Only with stench-o-rama for your olfactory pleasure. I really like it -- the getting dinner at ten instead of the restaurants closing then, the cool old buildings, the sheer volume of stuff to see and do, but the cost of the stink and the garbage, the smell of dog and human urine assaulting your nose everywhere, and the insane traffic and neverending noise overwhelm me and I realize that I can't handle that city for longer than short trip bursts. I'm a true westerner -- I need space, I need air, give me room lots of room...
I took some pics which I will try to put up later, not that many people will need to see them. I think half my flist is either people who live in NY, have lived there before, or go there all the time, so it's nothing special. My only regret is not having time to shop, what with the mother ship there right near me (Saks 5th Ave.), but oh well. Next time, next time, once I get my senses cleansed.
