The following is a collection, mostly of Facebook status updates, that I have made since moving to New York City in August of 2010.
Overheard the following in a Denver coffee shop: “Colorado is like REAL America. Not like New York or some place. New York is like…the world. Colorado is AMERICA.”
I would like to advise folks to not try texting and walking through Times Square at the same time. Life is hard enough as it is.
I couldn’t forget just any old box, oh no, I had to forget the one with dishes in it. I have lots of silverware, one plate, four bowls, and a lot of cups. I should be good for the next nine months, right?
I apologize for being such an asshole, but the truth is, you’re being kind of an idiot.
I just had lunch with a bunch of seriously hot Israeli boys. I think I like New York.
I am confused by the New York Post. Is this a legitimate enterprise in journalism? A tabloid? Good old fashioned gossip?
I can hear everything that the construction workers in the apartment across the way are saying. PleaseletthemsingGagaPleaseletthemsingGagapleasepleaseplease…
STOP TEXTING AND WALKING. JUST…STOPPIT.
I would like to talk to people who unload other peoples’ clothes out of washing machines and pile them up in random places so they can use the washers. Who are these people? And could you leave my stuff along for, I dunno, omgtenminutes?
I have gotten an NYPL card, and will never do anything productive ever again.
I have set off the smoke alarm. Don’t worry, everything’s fine.
So the construction crew in the apartment across the way (about twenty feet outside my window) arrives every morning at 8:00 am and fires up the table saw. For the past couple of weeks, this has included Saturday and Sunday. This stops soon, right?
Remember in middle school, when they taught us how to use the Reader’s Guide to Periodical Literature, and then by the time we graduated high school, the Reader’s Guides were all gone and we had to learn Lexis Nexis? So it turns out the Columbia library has shelves upon shelves of Reader’s Guides. And Alternative Press indexes. And a CARD CATALOG. A CARD CATALOG!!!!
I wonder if singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” loudly will get the construction crew to stop with the table saw, or if it’ll just make the rest of my neighbors kill themselves.
I’m watching the work crew across the way. They don’t seem to be using the table saw. It’s too good to be true.
I have a very strong urge to ask the man in front of my building, “Are you a good vampire…or an eeeeeevil vampire?”
I spotted the morally ambiguous vampire again, this time in the lobby of my building. And I was nearly run down by the Joker on a bicycle. New York sure is a wacky place.
9:00 class: cancelled. Doorman of my building: playing air guitar. Nice.
I kind of love that the deli on my block blatantly just goes to the little grocery store up the street, buys their candy, marks up the price by 30%, and sells it themselves. That gross smell in the gutters, that’s capitalism, right?
I can’t get over how cute Connecticut is. I just want to pinch its fat little cheeks!
I did not know that New York is apparently below the flood plain.
Why am I sitting in the MOMA lobby?
I take issue with the fact that you can’t even place holds with your NYPL card if you have fines. I understand them not letting me check shit out, but not even being able to request materials? That I need for school? And if I have to pay the fines before I can request materials, the library should a) be open on Sundays and/or b) allow me to pay my fine via the website. Not make me take a special fine-paying trip.
I will apparently fall for just about anyone trying to sell anything in Times Square as long as the conversation begins with a fist bump.
I think one of my favorite things about New York state is the water pressure. I can’t get enough of the showers out here.
I am really not a fan of this whole “freezing rain” thing the East Coast can do…
The weather outside my window is not the same as the weather down on the street.
I’m having a snowgasm.
Quote of the day, from one of my classmates: “…Boy George is a man?”
I would like more snow plz kthankxbai. If we’re going to break records, I want us to break em like we mean it.
I would like snow and not ice-rain-sleet (slain?), please.
I understand why the Con Ed meter reader comes around at 8:00 in the morning, but I still wish I wasn’t in my pajamas when it happened.
Melting snow means finding all the garbage and poo that was buried beneath it.
At the Hungarian Pastry Shop, sharing a table with strangers and trying to take up as little space as possible.
Customer: I gotta go, got toilets to unclog, or my boss’ll write me up or something.
Coffee shop worker: Your boss is the one that clogs up the toilets with all that crap that comes out of his mouth.
I walk faster than rush hour traffic drives.
I thought that at 8:00 AM, the Saturday morning fight for the washing machines would not yet have begun. This was incorrect.
I would very much like to steal that unattended scissor lift.
Dear NYC, It’s not yet 9:00pm. It’s far too early to be this drunk. Let’s tone it down a bit. Love, Becca.
Dear sir, You smell like pee. Love, Becca.
I just got in my very first fight with a subway crazy. I feel so New York.
I paid $2 and received a bucket of coffee. Holy caffeine nation, batman. Also, a random rock band in Tompkins Square Park is doing a funk cover of “Eleanor Rigby,” and The Strand bookstore is far too big for me.
Just got called out for her “Colorado accent” for the first time. Colorado accent? Really?
Blind man wearing Vibram 5 finger shows in NYC is very brave.
It’s decided. New York busses smell worse than Denver busses.
My confusion is several levels deeper than I thought it was.
Could everyone in New York City please check to make sure that the car alarm that’s been going off for the past five minutes isn’t theirs? Thanks.
Now there’s a smoke alarm going off as well. Awesome.
26 minutes later…car alarm has finally stopped.
The plan had a layover in MO. The kid next to me, who got on at MO, said (after I told him I was from New York) that his mom had told him NYC was full of terrorists.
Dear sir, You cannot stand here. I am already standing here. No really, this is physically impossible. Love, Becca.
Why are you taking pictures of yourselves inside a mall? It’s a mall. A MALL. Not a tourist attraction. Oh wait, it’s New York. Everything’s a tourist attraction.
I no longer mind bodychecking people who stand and block or drift slowly down the sidewalk. Pedestrian rage, I has it.
Dear sir, If you’re trying to tell me that you need 75 cents to feed your 7-year-old son, try not standing so close that I can smell the liquor on your breath.
Dude, I admit you’re heavy, but you’re not that big. You’re already taking up two seats on the train. There’s no reason to also be invading my space.
I’ve seen enough people drinking beer on the Metro North Railroad that I’m starting to think it’s allowed. Is this allowed?
Nobody on the train wants to hear you singing to yourself. NOBODY WANTS TO HEAR YOU.
I think I just got propositioned by Cee-lo on the M60 bus.
Dear Everyone in New York City, OH MY GOD FUCKING WALK ALREADY. Love, Becca.
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