18 posts tagged “new york”

I just bought a round trip, non-stop flight from Paris to New York for 334€, or less than $498. That is an unbelievably good deal. In September I flew through Reykjavik, on a really nice flight with Iceland Air, and thought that $515 was fantastic, but this is ten times better since I don't have to stop.

I am very, very excited. The assistant headmaster at my school, who is awesome, gave me the green light to take an extra week of work off before winter vacation in February so that I can extend my time in New York. I really wanted to go for longer than just 13 days or so, and now I'll be there for a full 18.5 days! I'll have to make up the hours, of course, but I have plenty of time to do so.

Mark your calendars, 'cause I arrive February 15th and leave on March 5th. There will be a BIG party for my 30th birthday. My birthday itself is the 19th, which is a Friday this year, but it's Presidents' weekend. At least, I assume it is cause it normally is. That means that it's more likely my New York friends will be out of town, but also more likely my non-New York friends could make it in.

Regardless of if I have the party the day of or the week later, I am super-excited that I'll be able to celebrate my birthday with my family this year. I haven't done so since I turned 26, and it's been a bit sad and difficult each year. And it's especially nice since this is such a big landmark year. I still can't believe I'm going to be 30.

I realize that my grammar is not quite up to snuff in this email, which is hopefully permissible given that it's almost 2 am. I just wanted to get it out there that I'm heading back to New York in 3 months and 1 week. Or exactly 100 days. Let the countdown begin!

In other news, I just got back from 10 days in Krakow (liked it) and Budapest (LOVED it), am heading to London (whee!) on Friday, and oh, I think I might have a boyfriend.  

Yesterday my friend Grant emailed me, saying, "I already read the ice cream thing weeks ago so get off your ass and write something cool." Simmer down, Grant.

But he's right, of course. I haven't written anything in over a month, mostly because I was in the States for over three week. Mostly in New York, with a quick three-day visit to my maternal grandparents in Los Angeles. Even though this trip was significantly longer than most of my trips home, I still didn't get to see everyone or do everything I wanted to. I was particularly looking forward to catching up with one of my childhood friends, Jade. She's one of the friends I mentioned back in this post, and we haven't seen each other in way too many years. Hopefully next time . . .

While I was in New York, I reached the three-year anniversary of my arrival in France. It was hard to celebrate while not in the country, but it is amazing to me that I'm still here. And entering my fourth year of teaching! So, happy third anniversary to me.

I don't think I've actually written here about what I'll be doing this year. Back in January, when my job with the cool educational non-profit fell through, I had less than a week before the last deadline for the assistantship. This program is what brought me to Paris back in 2006. Technically, you're only allowed to do it twice.  Which I have already done. In 2006 I was accepted through the US embassy in Washington, DC, and then my contract was renewed for the 2007-2008 school year through the rectorat in Paris. The program is so insanely disorganized, however, that I thought there was a pretty good chance that there is no master database, and so I figured I’d take a shot at applying again. I had to rush to get my recommendations and fill out the paperwork, but managed to get it done in time. It’s funny, ‘cause when I applied in the winter of 2005 I spent SO LONG on getting the application just right, and this time around I just threw it together. I didn’t think it would work, especially because the supposed overnight express envelope that I sent ended up taking two nights, and so my application got in a day late.

The stars were shining on me, however, because I was accepted. Once I moved apartments, I called up the lovely new lady at the rectorat (I’m still sad that Madame Dionis is gone, but the new Madame Couetdic seems to be more on the ball) and asked if it was possible to assign me a school near my new apartment, rather than the one they had on file. She said she’d see what she could do, but no promises. And then, score! The high school I’ll be working at is a 12-minute walk from my place!

I went by to meet the headmistress back in July, and we really hit it off. Then yesterday I met the English teacher in charge of me, Solange. We had already spoken on the phone and emailed a few times, mostly to discuss my scheduling preferences. I have been nothing but impressed with the school’s organization, so far. I already have my finalized schedule for the year, and received all my paperwork from the intendance and secretariat. I’ve been given a tour of the school, my own whiteboard markers and attendance book (ooh, the power I wield!), and met three of the six English teachers I’ll be working with. All of this makes me think that I’ll probably hate the students, as in my experience it’s impossible to like both the staff AND the students in one school.

I’m really happy with my schedule, too. Every other week I have to work one hour on Fridays, from 11 am to noon, but other than that I have four-day weekends and never work before 9 am or past 4 pm. And eight of my 12 classes are in the same room, which is really nice. Of course, the other four classes are in the amphitheater, which will be interesting, to say the least, but you can’t have it all.

Tomorrow is orientation, which I’m not looking forward to that much since I have a feeling I’ll know most of the information. But I can just play Scramble on my awesome new iTouch.

I’ve already had two hours of tutoring since being back: one with Lucas, and one with the hot pilot. Both went really well, and I had a huge smile on my face when I rang the doorbell at Lucas’ house and heard him squeal “it’s SOPHIE!” His reading has advanced so much; I have a feeling that soon I won’t have much more work to do!

I’m still in the process of scheduling all of my private lessons. I have to turn down quite a few people, since I won’t have the time or energy to take on all the clients that contact me. I’m having trouble figuring out how many hours I should do in addition to the twelve hours of classroom time. It’s a bit frustrating, because if you break down the pay by hour, I get paid literally twice as much to tutor as to be an assistant, but I need the assistantship for the working papers and the paid vacation. It’s really a pretty good deal.

And I am SO relieved that my 15 months of being a sans papiers are over.  I think the only reason I don’t feel guilty is that I earned this! Living illegally takes dedication.

I remember a joke from maybe first grade, that I used to think was hilarious. A mommy tomato and a baby tomato are walking down the street. The baby tomato has fallen behind, and is dawdling. The mommy tomato gets angry, stomps on the baby tomato and yells, "Catch up!"

Catch up, ketchup . . . get it?

Every so often I just stop writing, for no particular reason, and then find it really hard to start up again. But right now, on my fourth day of insane jet lag, the snow is coming down exactly like powdered sugar, and it's really beautiful. So even though I'm so sick of sleeping in WAY too late, I'm pretty happy.

I spent two weeks in New York, and spent a lot of time with my mom, which was great. But for some reason I'm having a REALLY hard time getting back on Paris-time. I've been sleeping in ridiculously late every day, even if I set my alarm(s) and/or have people to meet. I seem to be simply unable to wake up before noon. Maybe this is just my body making up for the sleep I lost in New York? I was finally able to sleep in my old bedroom again, since the live-in aide is gone. But good lord! I have no idea how I slept when I was younger! This was my childhood bedroom from the age of 8 or 9, and it is LOUD. Buses, garbage trucks, shoveling, construction, dogs, horns . . . I barely slept at all. And my room in Paris is so lovely and calm. Right now I'm sitting in bed, watching the snow drift over the trees in the garden I look onto. No noise at all.

I start tutoring again tomorrow, and I have mixed feelings about it. I'm sure once I start up I'll be fine, but right now the thought of another six months of trekking back and forth to kids' houses, preparing lessons, and all the rest of it just feels exhausting. This is only a partial week, though, with a total of six hours. Easing my way back in . . . 

Some of you may remember my very unsuccessful reader poll, where I (jokingly) asked for helping choosing which of seven 2008 weddings to attend. I really wish I could have gone to all of them, but my au pair job and finances forced me to pick only one.

Adriana and I have been close friends for ten years now (!!!) and I am so happy I was there for her big day. This is the same group of friends from Meg and Will's wedding in 2007, and I hadn't seen many of them since. The wedding was absolutely beautiful, set in a Japanese garden. Adriana was glowing, and there's nothing quite like seeing your friends commit to a life of sex with just one person to make you tear up.

Here's the happy couple, during their first dance:

The following photo reminds me of this one, except the brides are switched! I wish it were in color, since all of our dresses were such fun colors, but anyway: At the post-wedding "party" in the lobby of an anonymous hotel, with takeout pizza and too much booze: I'm surprised the hotel didn't shush us, since we took that photo roughly a billion times, trying to get everyone in the air as the shutter clicked. It doesn't look like it, but my little pink shoes are actually off the ground, albeit nowhere as high as Will's.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, and I was so happy to see my friends again. And Meg and Will, when are you coming to visit? I think we need to introduce Paris to Will's dance moves:

In Manhattan, summer normally means doing anything you can to get out of the city. Of my nine days in New York, four were spent out of town, in the Hamptons. Or Amagansett, to be more precise. Tessa and her boyfriend, Paul, rented a house there and the whole family spent the long weekend watching tennis, grilling, and reading an astonish ing amount of trashy magazines.

It was really nice and relaxing, despite the crappy weather and broken hot tub. Fortunately there is no documentation of the 4th of July family tradition, which involves my wearing an American flag bikini and marching around while singing "God Bless America" at the top of my lungs.

Here, instead, are a few more presentable moments:

For the past three weeks I've been in Oia, a small town on the Greek island of Santorini. More specifically, I've been living and working at Atlantis Books. I've had a fantastic time, and have tons of pictures of the fun: fires on the terrace, jumping off cliffs at night, boat trips around the island, and much more. I can't quite believe that the three weeks are up already, but I don't feel sad. I have a feeling I'll be back here . . .

In about an hour, Pauline and I are leaving for Crete. We'll spend four days there, and then I'm off for a day in Athens, before catching a flight back to Paris. Then I have about 30 hours in Paris, before flying to New York for nine days.

That's right, I'm taking three flights in three days, and will be in five very distinct places within the space of one week. I truly hope my body can handle the constant change and grossness of airplanes . . . Although I guess if I've managed to not get sick while living in the (beautiful but rather) dirty conditions here, I'll be fine.

So, there you have it. Sorry this isn't more interesting, and sorry I haven't been writing for the few months. I just haven't quite felt like it. I'm trying to shake that feeling though. Check back to see if I managed. ;)

Happy June!

I'm now back in Paris, having arrived Sunday morning. And it's so hard.

My mom had a major stroke, with no warning. Five weeks beforehand we were hiking over waterfalls in Morocco, and now . . . I don't want to be too specific, as my mom is a very private person, so I'll just say that she's making progress, but it's slow, as apparently most strokes are. My mom is young and healthy, so we're hoping she'll make a full recovery, and she's in one of the best rehab clinics in the country. The problem is she's been there almost a month now, and she desperately wants to go home.

My trip to New York was originally going to be just over two weeks, and I extended it to four. Most of that time was spent at the hospital, from 3 to 8 hours a day. I was able to see most of my friends (Jeff and Josh, you're up first next time!), which was fantastic. I really felt supported and loved by all my friends who made time to see me, planned special events near the hospital so I could attend, and sent their love and prayers to room 110A. Every bit helped, so thank you all.

My trip was obviously not the vacation I was expecting it to be. Passover, instead of the elaborate, hours-long meal it normally is, was different but no less meaningful this year. We read the prayers and sang the songs and drank grape juice next to my mom's hospital bed. As the youngest, I sang the Four Questions and made everyone listen to me sing Chad Gadya in Aramaic. I really love that song. I got my hair cut, and went shopping at Old Navy, and attended my 10-year high school reunion (pics to come!), but my mind was always with my mom.

Making the decision to come back was really hard. And leaving her that day to go to the airport was one of the hardest things I've ever done, if not the hardest. My mom is my best friend, and I love her so much. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful relationship with her, and to know that we love and respect each other both as mother and daughter, and as two women who can make each other laugh.

I talked to a lot of people about what to do: my therapist, my mom's friends, her doctors, my friends . . . and everyone told me that I have to continue my life. And my life is in Paris, as crazy and random as that may be. My dad actually flat out told me that I couldn't stay by saying, "I won't have your life turn into a Victorian novel, with you as the spinster who gives up her life to take care of her ailing mother!" To which I replied, "I'm only 28! I'm hardly a spinster."

Living at home with my dad, just the two of us, was really good. We had just spent a lot of time together in January, obviously, but I think it was important for both of us to have someone to say goodnight to. And to share dog-walking responsibilities! I swear, Teddy is the cutest thing in the world, and kept us both laughing every day. Look at my little muffinhead!

My sister and I worked very well together, sharing the jobs that come with a sick family member, while dad took care of insurance, doctors, and paperwork. Mom was never alone, due to our constantly emailing schedules back and forth. We alternated nights, so that each of us could get some time with our friends, and dad filled in when we both had plans. And now I left it all to them, and I feel so incredibly guilty.

I call a few times a day, but mom has up to six hours of rehab therapy every day, and in between she tries to grab naps. So even when I'm able to get hold of her, we can only talk for a few minutes. And I miss her terribly.

How do I do this? How do I just continue on with my life here, knowing that dad and Tessa are still at the hospital daily? How do I leave my mom to battle this without me? If anyone has advice, I could really use it right about now.

In exactly six days, I will begin my descent into the New York City area. I can't wait. The past month has been a crazy rollercoaster of highs and lows. I've gained hope that I might be able to stay, and gained frustration at the way things work. I am still positive I want to be here long-term, but I am ready for a break.

Here, in no particular order, are the things I most want to eat when I get home:

• a medium-rare cheeseburger, with cheddar and sautéed onions, from JG Melon's
• sushi from Roppongi
• shredded beef Schezuan and Moo Shu chicken from First Wok
• sesame noodles from Tang Tang
• curry seafood flat noodle soup from Bo Ky
• mom's lasagna
• mom's sweet-and-sour brisket with orzo
• mom's spaghetti with meat sauce
• mom's curried lima bean soup
• mom's Chinese noodles
• mom's gunky chicken
• a grilled cheese sandwich, made with white bread, Kraft singles, and served with Campbell's tomato soup
• Diet Dr Pepper
• a tuna melt, again with Kraft singles, and way too much (Hellman's) mayo
  
• the house salad at Cosí
• a mild chicken banh mi at Nicky's Vietnamese
• dates wrapped with bacon and baked brie in puff pastry at Salt Bar
  
• whatever it was that I ordered when Jeff and I had lunch at that random place in Chinatown

I think you can all see where my priorities lie. Screw my family and friends, and bring on the food!

Of course, all of my friends are brilliant and do amazing things with their time. But a few of them have exciting projects, new or otherwise, that I want to share. In no particular order . . .

Jon: The Lone Ranger and Tonto comic

My dear friend Jon Abrams has just published his first comic book. Jon wrote a very funny strip for our college paper, where I once made a very small cameo. But that has nothing to do with The Lone Ranger and Tonto! Jon wrote it with his college roommate, Brett, and considering I was dating their housemate for a year, I spent a lot of time eating their food and watching their TV. So now it's payback time! I've already bought my copy, and I live in France. Now it's your turn! Rumor has it that if you buy before the 19th, it's even more enjoyable. Seriously.

Click here to order online or visit your local comic book store.

Pauline: Santorini Super-8 Film Festival

Some of you know that I will be spending the month of June on a Greek island. More to come on that later, but the basic details are that I will be working and living at Atlantis Books, on the island of Santorini. My friend Pauline got me involved, and she is hosting a HUGE Super-8 film festival from June 20th-23rd that is going to kick ass. In my head it's going to be like Cinema Paradiso come to life.  Without the fire and blinding, hopefully. 

To submit your film, email Pauline here. It's going to be amazing, and you're all jealous.

Matt and Josh: American Madness

Matt and Josh have been writing American Madness for a while now. Because it seems to be important, I would like to point out that Matt has written more than twice as many posts as Josh has. They write about any and everything, from food to pop culture to politics and memes. The most impressive thing about the blog, in my greedy opinion, is all the free stuff they get. I need to get involved in the swag market . . . . Bonus points to anyone who can find my sole contribution, made sometime last summer, I believe.

Lin-Manuel: In the Heights

Okay, Lin hardly needs any more press. I mean, he's had a whole lot of articles in the New York Times already. But it's just so damn cool that one of my friends is on Broadway. I saw In the Heights off-Broadway last year, and cannot wait to go see it again. The music and dancing are incredible, and Lin has such a powerful stage presence that you can't help but smile the whole time.

Buy your tickets here!


Fun fact: Jon, Lin, and I all met when we were in a student production of a Maria Irene Fornes play back in 1998. See how far we've come!

I just voted on for the Democratic primary online. A few weeks ago I had registered with Democrats Abroad, a fantastic organization. I'm actually considering donating a bit of money to them, which is saying a lot as I'm really cheap. But they made it so extremely easy and pleasant to vote, and I think that's really important.

For obvious reasons, this vote is the most important one I've ever participated in. I've voted in every primary and presidential election since I was 18 (I think . . . it's possible that I missed a primary when I was living in Bologna, as that was February 2000) but this time I really felt some sort of power.

Normally, seeing as I'm a Democrat registered in New York, I don't really think my vote counts THAT much. I know, I know, "every vote counts." But honestly, New York is always going to be a blue state, so often I feel like mine may not count quite as much as a vote in a swing state. Still, this time around I really had to think long and hard about who I wanted to vote for, as the outcome this fall will probably change the world. And that's a lot of responsibility.

I've been talking a lot about politics in Paris, more so that I normally do. The French are big supporters of Obama, and are really into the fact that we have both a black and a woman candidate. I've had to do a lot of explaining about how Hillary and Barack are actually in the same party, and what a primary is, and what a caucus is . . . And it's interesting, because I've always thought of myself as rather apolitical. But, and I noticed this last year with my Terminales, I'm able to answer most of the questions about American politics that my students throw at me. I think a lot of that has to do with my excellent American History teachers in high school.

The past two weeks I've held debates in my favorite class of 4ème (the equivalent of 8th grade in the States). They've argued Obama versus Clinton, and got really into it. One kid showed up wearing an Obama t-shirt! That was pretty cool. And they actually taught me a lot. I loved how when someone asked me a question I didn't know the answer to, I could just redirect it at the class and one of the students would know. They researched everything: their schools, degrees, voting history . . . it was really great to see how involved they were.

So here's a thank you to the women who made it possible for me to vote. Corny, I know, but I'm feeling grateful.