MAKING SENSE OF IT ALL
Have I mentioned yet how wonderful it is to be finally living with my husband (aka the tactile helpdesk) after all this too-ing and fro-ing for months on end. He’s settled in well. Perhaps too well. This morning he left at 5.30am to JOG to the GYM…...and I keep finding teeth-whitening solutions all over the bathroom. But of course, that’ll be me soon (ROTFL).
So here I sit with no idea as to which of my two watch-faces I am in synch with, trying to make a PLAN.
The size of this flat (apartment) is nothing short of remarkable. In this heat you damn near need to take a cab from the living room to the kitchen. Nobody in Manhattan has this much room. I know that because I've read lots of NYC novels. We are very lucky. The downside of this is that nearly all our money is taken up in paying the rent and unfortunately we have no furniture. This ultimately means I can’t unpack, as there’s nothing as yet to unpack into. I also have to carefully pick the time of day when I can have my first drink (cocktail) in order to avoid being labelled as the local juice-aholic, because, as we have no curtains yet, approximately 500 other apartments can witness me drinking it.
Need to locate an Ikea and a means of getting there, need to visit Crate and Barrel to spend the many generous vouchers we received from our lovely friends as wedding presents, need to get phones, need to get a bank account, need to get food (but right now it's 92 degrees out there so hunger seems preferable.)
It’s the small everyday things which take time to adjust to in a new country, even one without a language barrier (although that’s debatable – some American phrases are intelligible only after lengthy consideration).
Take recycling. This is a serious and compulsory business in New York, and mis-filed items can land you with a fine. This is clearly a good, if initially confusing thing. (Come on London – catch up!) So this morning saw me sitting on the kitchen floor with piles of glass, paper, metal, plastic, normal rubbish (trash) and ‘miscellaneous’ (sciences never having been my strong point). What, for instance is string? Cotton buds? Or the inside foil-bit of a cigarette packet? Have now found a fantastic recycling site which reveals (nearly) all. This is just as well because nobody has been particularly helpful.
‘Where do I put plastic takeaway (takeout) cartons?’
The tactile not-so-helpdesk - ‘On another floor so as the neighbours (neighbors) don’t find out that we live on takeaways’.
I instant-message recycling guru friend
‘What does the inside bit of a cigarette packet get filed as?’
‘It gets filed as ‘I thought you were giving up’.
Actually it’s not like you can smoke anywhere here. And talking of cigarettes - I was buying a pack in Walgreen’s yesterday (yes, you buy cigarettes in chemists (drugstores) here), and was asked for ID! WTF is that about? Couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off (pissed) because the assistant was surely deliberately winding me up, or feel complimented (chuffed) as I clearly don’t look a day older than 18 now that I no longer work for a living.
‘Why d’you need my ID?’ (‘Get out of my face!’) .
‘D’you want them or not?’ came the withering reply.
Executive summary: Recycling and planning
Live music: Nouvelle Vague - Joe's Pub NY
So here I sit with no idea as to which of my two watch-faces I am in synch with, trying to make a PLAN.
The size of this flat (apartment) is nothing short of remarkable. In this heat you damn near need to take a cab from the living room to the kitchen. Nobody in Manhattan has this much room. I know that because I've read lots of NYC novels. We are very lucky. The downside of this is that nearly all our money is taken up in paying the rent and unfortunately we have no furniture. This ultimately means I can’t unpack, as there’s nothing as yet to unpack into. I also have to carefully pick the time of day when I can have my first drink (cocktail) in order to avoid being labelled as the local juice-aholic, because, as we have no curtains yet, approximately 500 other apartments can witness me drinking it.
Need to locate an Ikea and a means of getting there, need to visit Crate and Barrel to spend the many generous vouchers we received from our lovely friends as wedding presents, need to get phones, need to get a bank account, need to get food (but right now it's 92 degrees out there so hunger seems preferable.)
It’s the small everyday things which take time to adjust to in a new country, even one without a language barrier (although that’s debatable – some American phrases are intelligible only after lengthy consideration).
Take recycling. This is a serious and compulsory business in New York, and mis-filed items can land you with a fine. This is clearly a good, if initially confusing thing. (Come on London – catch up!) So this morning saw me sitting on the kitchen floor with piles of glass, paper, metal, plastic, normal rubbish (trash) and ‘miscellaneous’ (sciences never having been my strong point). What, for instance is string? Cotton buds? Or the inside foil-bit of a cigarette packet? Have now found a fantastic recycling site which reveals (nearly) all. This is just as well because nobody has been particularly helpful.
‘Where do I put plastic takeaway (takeout) cartons?’
The tactile not-so-helpdesk - ‘On another floor so as the neighbours (neighbors) don’t find out that we live on takeaways’.
I instant-message recycling guru friend
‘What does the inside bit of a cigarette packet get filed as?’
‘It gets filed as ‘I thought you were giving up’.
Actually it’s not like you can smoke anywhere here. And talking of cigarettes - I was buying a pack in Walgreen’s yesterday (yes, you buy cigarettes in chemists (drugstores) here), and was asked for ID! WTF is that about? Couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off (pissed) because the assistant was surely deliberately winding me up, or feel complimented (chuffed) as I clearly don’t look a day older than 18 now that I no longer work for a living.
‘Why d’you need my ID?’ (‘Get out of my face!’) .
‘D’you want them or not?’ came the withering reply.
Executive summary: Recycling and planning
Live music: Nouvelle Vague - Joe's Pub NY
posted by jazzshark at 12:53 PM
1 Comments:
‘What does the inside bit of a cigarette packet get filed as?’
‘It gets filed as ‘I thought you were giving up’.
Go recycling Guru friend!!!
But more importantly thank god for imposed recycling! (As long as there is a proper mechanism for it) Wish we had it here - Croydon BC are nowhere near that forward thinking. To properly recycle in the London Borough of Croydon, you either have to carry your recyling to the borough recycling facility - via 2 trains a bus and a 15 minute walk on a 3 or 4 daily basis (unless you're the incredible hulk and can carry it all in one go ... and bear in mind I buy as little pre-packaged stuff as possible too) or you have to have a car to cram it into and doesn't that kind of go against the whole eco friendly ideal of recyling ..? either way I do it! It even features on my timetable of stuff to do ....
BJ xx
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