Buried in Brooklyn

I laughed at the people in New York because they were buddled up with hats, scarves, gloves and North Face coats and it was still in the 40s.  Even in the 30s, with the sun shining, it was still nice outside.  The weather in November and December, in New York was nothing compared to the frigid weather that my family faced in Chicago. 

Fast forward to Christmas weekend and a winter storm would fall upon the northeast, dropping plenty of the white stuff right over Brooklyn.  The cancellation of hundreds of flight would let me know just how bad the snow had disabled the New York, New Jersey and Philadephia areas.  Heading to the airport I was happy to know that American Airlines flight #1918 was scheduled to leave on time.  Check-in and security were a breeze.  In fact, I had just 1 hour before my flight was scheduled to board.  Max was settled in his carrier and just as I settled in to drink my apple juice, it happened.  One glance of the flight board and my flight was delayed for three hours, until 9:20pm. 

Fast forward another nine hours and I pulled my suitcase through the snow.  The snow that was piled so high that the cab driver couldn't drive down my street.  Snow that was so high, I had to pick up Max because it was too much for him to walk through.  Snow that covered the front porch of my building.  Finally at 2:00am (12 hours after leaving for the airport in Chicago), tired, hungry, sleepy and with a major headache, I walked into my apartment, left my luggage by the door, got in my pajamas and went to bed (ok so I watched an episode of Cold Case first). 

Here are pictures of what waited for me and Max, this mornng, as we went on our morning (well, afternoon ) walk.   Hopefully, we won't be buried in Brooklyn for too long.



a neighbor trying to dig his car out of the snow





looking for a place to do his business





I guess the saying is true "rain, sleet or snow" you will get your mail





my front porch



Central Park through my lens

So my move to New York hasn't been everything I'd hope it would be, but each week gets better.  On this particular day, I decided to combine my love of photography with my desire to get to know more of New York City.  Tired from a weekend of going out, I braved the cold air,  grabbed my sony DSLR, jumped on the A train and headed to the corner of  72nd Street & Central Park West to meet the rest of my advanced photography class for a 1 day shooting session of Central Park. 

Here are some of the photos (unedited) that were taken on my Central Park journey.

Close up of leaves on a tree.  Perfecting my aperture and shutter speed so that the background is blurry.



Ahhh!  Many are wondering how I made those leaves turn blue.  Well, me too because I can't      remember what feature I used on my camera.  Oh wait, I remember.  I changed the white balance to Tungsten. 

                                                    

I've seen this shot in many movies (can't remember which ones right now), but this is a good shot.  It shows some of the beauty of Central Park and gives a little glimpse of what's waiting outside of the park.

       This was the BEST pretzel I've ever had.  Maybe I was a little hungry, but it was still very tasty.  

I hope you've enjoyed a small peak into what was a good day for me, in Central Park.  I'm still in the process of exploring New York City and all it has to offer.  As I explore, I will share, the good and bad, and hope all ends well and I stay in New York because right now it's not looking real good for the city.  But hey, that's another entry for another day.

Homeless in New York City

"Where are you from?" the lady in the airport asks me.  Smiling, I say, "well I'm from Chicago, but I live in New York."  Deep down, I'm crying.

I am officially a New Yorker!  Okay well, not quite yet.  Yes, I did move to New York 3 weeks ago, but since I don't have a place to live and my things are still in Chicago, I don't consider myself an official resident.  This move has been a long time in the making and I am so thankful (and grateful) that it has finally happened.  I was beginning to think this was something I wanted that God just didn't want for me.  While I'm never one to go against or question God, this is one thing I was not willing to back down from.  For many years, I've wanted to move to New York and something (purchased a condo in Chicago, got a job promotion, etc) always happened so the move didn't happen. But a few months ago, I realize I was just not happy in Chicago and the only way for me to grow professionally and personally was to move to New York.  So in March 2010, I set a goal of being in New York by September 1, 2010.  After months and months of interviewing for jobs in New York, I finally got a job offer that I accepted and started on August 23rd.  Yes, I met my deadline. 

So why am I am in New York feeling like a homeless person.  So the temporary housing was okay for the 1st week, but has gotten old really quick.  I'm living out of a suitcase and I feel so scattered.  I want to feel like this is my new home, I really do, but until I navigate and get through this RIDICULOUS New York City housing market, it's hard for me to feel that way.  What the hell is up with this broker's fee?  Really.  There should be a law agains that mess.  Yes, you've guessed it.  I'm anti-broker, that is unless they can find me a no fee apartment.  I'll take getting lost on the subway (which I've seemed to have mastered) instead of paying a broker's fee for an apartment.  It makes no sense at all. 

So before Penn station becomes my new home, I have a few places on my list that I'm going to look at tomorrow then going back to Chicago to pick up Max.  I hope this will be my last weekend in Chicago so I can spend some time in New York.  I mean, it is my new home and yet I still feel like a visitor.

To Brooklyn, with love

As I stood there looking at it, I was thinking, "You must be crazy.  And it's raining too." I had always promised myself I'd do it.  But at this moment,I stood frozen. Frozen with fear, frozen with thoughts of the unknown, frozen because I didn't know how long it would take and frozen because I didn't know what would happen along the way.  Anyway, I took a deep breath, pullled the belt around my coat a little tighter, put on my gloves and began my journey.  This journey would take me across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Like many parts of my life, my journey across the Brooklyn Bridge was not without its challenges.  On this particular day, the day I had planned to walk across the bridge, it was raining and extremely cold.  But since I was only going to be in New York for three days, I figured it was now or never.  I try to visit New York at least twice a year.  And everytime I take that trip I promise myself that I will walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.  So how is it that seven years have passed and once again I was sitting in my hotel room, in Tribecca, blaming the weather as the reason why I would not walk to Brooklyn.  However, this time as I stared out of my hotel room window, I could here my mother's voice saying, "Cheney, life doesn't always happen the way you plan.  These setbacks should not stop you from accomplishing the things you want to accomplish.  Now get an umbrella and get your butt across that bridge."

 A few blocks from my hotel, was the entrance to the bridge.  The night before I made my journey, I had attempted to cross the bridge.  However, since it was dark and I couldn't see the path ahead of me, I decided it was not a good idea to make my journey when I wasn't sure what was ahead of me.  Life sometimes happens in the same way.  I've hesitated in making decisions because I didn't know what was waiting for me.  It's said, "the journey of a million miles begins with one step."  Well, in this case I don't know about a million miles, but I took that first step.  About 10 minutes into the walk, the winds and ran started to pick up and I wanted to turn around.  I figured this would be easier than continuing across because it was so cold.  But I could hear my mother's voice and my determination wouldn't let me quit, so I continued on.  Half way across, I got some extra shelter and was able to get a few photos of......the foggy sky.  It was so foggy outside, I couldn't see anything for miles.  So after catching my breath and arranging my umbrella and purse I continued on to Brooklyn. 

 

Twenty-seven minutes later, cold and wet with soaked trouser socks, (and the hem of my trouser pants) I walked 2 blocks to a restaurant where I would stand at the counter and joke with the Italian guys behind the counter about why Chicago's pizza is better than the pizza in New York.  Next, I would spend twenty-five minutes talking to a man, about 80 years old, who loved my hat because it reminded him of one he'd had for 50+ years.  He reminded me of my grandfather and I guess he noticed something, as he looked at my teary eyes because he asked, "What are you thinking about?"  "You remind me of my grandfather," I would tell him.  "Well I'm sure he's thinking and loving you wherever he is," the eldery man said to me.  I told him that my grandfather had been killed when I was five years old so just sitting and talking to him made me think about how I'd wish for moments like this with my grandfather.  "Well he can still love you from heaven, can't he."  Smiling, I sat thinking if I'd never taken that journey across the Brooklyn Bridge, I would've missing hearing my grandfather telling me he loves me.  And even though I already knew that, it felt really good to hear it anyway.