Berlin has been wonderful, relaxed and fun. To really hear the rhythm of the place and understand the beauty of the word, you must stress the second syllable when you say it out loud, like my Mum's name. It has been unlike anywhere else I've ever been; the layers of history make it everything and anything you decide it is. There's so much here, and whatever you want to draw out of it, you can.
I had half-fancied that I would get my hair cut here, Sally Bowles styles, into a helmety sleek black bob, just so I could 'do' the town from underneath a thick fringe - surely the best way to see things here, you have to agree. And as it turned out I did spend some time at the hairdresser - but it was my darling friend who was in the chair instead.
Andrea, who I have officially now known for 20 years since we went to primary school together in Buderim, had taken a train from Dresden (where she works) to meet me in Berlin for the weekend. She had maximised her time by also booking a hair appointment first thing Saturday morning - these things are unthinkable in Dresden and it seems that hair can really only be entrusted to a Berlin hairdresser.
After her train finally arrived on Friday night/Saturday morning, six hours late (she got in at 3.30am, exhausted, Scnappsed-out, and laughing despite having endured the agony that is the Die Bahn), I updated her on what I'd been doing - I had spent the evening in a Kreuzberg bar where I met a lovely new friend, watched one of the best, most danceable and entertaining Swiss one-man bands on earth, ate some beloved Turkish food, and experimented with speaking a broken brand of German and Turkish which actually seemed to make some kind of sense here as everyone else in Kreuzberg seems to speak it as well. We then fell heavily asleep in our amazingly cheap and comfortable sublet.
On Saturday, after Andrea finished with an extremely pleasing hair appointment which I had also benefited from - they fed me fruit and tea and biscuits while I waited and caught up on some reading - we went to an amazing vintage clothes shop we had both heard about. Dresses galore - magnificent ones - and a particularly breathtaking ruffled, long, satin dress that loved me with all its heart. It was the last one I tried on out of three splendid pieces of art; the first dress was too small, the second dress too big, but this one was just right, so is henceforth known as Goldilocks, although it is actually more in the style of Rita Hayworth. I can't explain to you how much I loved being in this shop. The staggering high I felt from obtaining this dress was immeasurable, and I am still feeling the dopamine effect days later. Andrea and I both vowed to buy our wedding dresses here one day, and headed off to Prenzlauer Berg for dinner.
We had gotten a recommendation for a good Italian restaurant from Andrea's Turkish hairdresser, and when we finally got there, we were starving and almost dead. Not really, but we were really relieved to be eating. The food was amazing - proper, good Italian. And after a lifetime of hating the taste of coffee, it seems I have developed a sudden liking for tiramisu, which I naturally indulged. As I also did my interest in cognac, and random conversation.
By this time, we had met up with some other friends back over in Kreuzberg, and the night slipped effortlesly into morning. I found an accidental shard of glass on the slice of lemon in my martini rosso, which encouraged a quick reflection on what would have happened IF I HAD DIED there and then, which then of course led to the realisation that I hadn't died and I wasn't dead (and was unlikely to have died because, as Andrea sensibly observed, it probably just would have felt like a bit of ice going down and I wouldn't even have noticed as it was so small) and the fact that this is the punchline to practically every story you can think of - that you are still alive - made us all feel quite good and glad to be in Berlin on a beautiful night where the cold outside makes the warmth inside all the more acute and wondrous.
On Sundays, everything is closed in Germany except for restaurants and cafes, so the only thing you can really do is eat. Andrea and I loved it. We found a delicious place in Friedrichshain that served breakfast - which was like a buffet, but with so many different foods on offer that were so good and of such a high quality that you couldn't really call it a buffet. We stayed for about three hours and ate so many courses - cheeses and salads, bread, rice, curry, waffles, jelly, custard, cake, croissants, tea. Berliners around us smoked throughout the meal. To my New York/Melbourne nostrils, it was pretty weird to have cigarette smoke wafting around as we ate, and I felt anxious for everyone at first as my law-abiding gut was worried everyone would get 'into trouble'. But it's still perfectly acceptable here, until January at least.
Anyway, I have come to believe it's a lovely and great thing to not have any shops open on Sundays (although ask me again when I am back in New York and am loving my god-given right to buy whatever I want on any day of the week). But you can really see how families and friends just get together and enjoy each other's company on this day, which is set aside especially for that.
After a stroll along the old Berlin War and East Side Gallery, we ran back to grab our things and hoped to not miss the Sunday night train from Berlin to Dresden, and then realised that because daylight saving ended that very day, we had gained a whole extra hour. We got back to Dresden around 7pm, and here I am Monday morning, about to take a look around this town, and enjoying my life more than I have in a long time.
Monday, 29 October 2007
Friday, 26 October 2007
Two or Three Things I Know About Her*
(*Berlin.)
LORELEI'S DECISIVE TRAVEL GUIDE TAKEN FROM ONE DAY'S OBSERVATIONS
1. Boots bring out the best acoustics in cobblestones here. Everyone seems to know this and are more than happy to oblige . The result is wonderful street music, and also a useful safety device, as a woman walking around on her own can wisely keep track of who is in her immediate surrounds, just by listening.
(WARNING: Defying unwritten law like the rebels they are, there are still some 'kids' who wear quiet-as-mice Converse. And indie kids may be the most dangerous reprobates of all, so it's still important to stay alert at all times.)
2. You can be gay here. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE GAY HERE. I know you can be quite contentedly gay in other cities too, but you're ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO BE GAY HERE. I mean, their MAYOR is openly gay. I like being in a place where people are allowed to be gay. Do you understand what I'm saying - GAYNESS is allowed. There is something in that, I think.
3. If you try to line up for a classical music concert at the Philharmonie, a place you've navigated to with great trouble on a crowded bus, and they have completely sold out of tickets, but you wait in line good-naturedly thinking that, well, maybe they will have a spare ticket at ten to eight if someone cancels, but they refuse to even consider this option and you are waving money around but now it's five to eight and so you are turned out into the cold - if all this happens, it would be okay because you would just think in your signature happy-go-lucky way - better luck next time.
But if all that happened, and then the smarmy German - I know it's illegal here to joke about this, but there is no other word for it in my lexicon - if then the smarmy German line nazi says to you after all this happens, 'Vell, vy don't you go somevere else instead and enjoy some niiice German bier?' - if you hear this after you've spent two hours trying to get over to some beautiful, venerable building to hear classical music because the hostel where you're staying has nothing more culturally enlightening then football and yes - niiice German BIER - as well as so many bogans of all different nationalities and INXS over the loudspeaker non-stop - then you'd be totally and rightfully pissed off. And you'd probably then go back to your room, put on your headphones and play the haunting Massenet song which is the only classical piece you have on an iPod full of Kate Bush and Prince, and - fuming that you still don't know anything about classical music and will never get to learn anything ever because people are so goddamed unhelpful - pack for the concentration camp tour tomorrow.
LORELEI'S DECISIVE TRAVEL GUIDE TAKEN FROM ONE DAY'S OBSERVATIONS
1. Boots bring out the best acoustics in cobblestones here. Everyone seems to know this and are more than happy to oblige . The result is wonderful street music, and also a useful safety device, as a woman walking around on her own can wisely keep track of who is in her immediate surrounds, just by listening.
(WARNING: Defying unwritten law like the rebels they are, there are still some 'kids' who wear quiet-as-mice Converse. And indie kids may be the most dangerous reprobates of all, so it's still important to stay alert at all times.)
2. You can be gay here. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE GAY HERE. I know you can be quite contentedly gay in other cities too, but you're ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO BE GAY HERE. I mean, their MAYOR is openly gay. I like being in a place where people are allowed to be gay. Do you understand what I'm saying - GAYNESS is allowed. There is something in that, I think.
3. If you try to line up for a classical music concert at the Philharmonie, a place you've navigated to with great trouble on a crowded bus, and they have completely sold out of tickets, but you wait in line good-naturedly thinking that, well, maybe they will have a spare ticket at ten to eight if someone cancels, but they refuse to even consider this option and you are waving money around but now it's five to eight and so you are turned out into the cold - if all this happens, it would be okay because you would just think in your signature happy-go-lucky way - better luck next time.
But if all that happened, and then the smarmy German - I know it's illegal here to joke about this, but there is no other word for it in my lexicon - if then the smarmy German line nazi says to you after all this happens, 'Vell, vy don't you go somevere else instead and enjoy some niiice German bier?' - if you hear this after you've spent two hours trying to get over to some beautiful, venerable building to hear classical music because the hostel where you're staying has nothing more culturally enlightening then football and yes - niiice German BIER - as well as so many bogans of all different nationalities and INXS over the loudspeaker non-stop - then you'd be totally and rightfully pissed off. And you'd probably then go back to your room, put on your headphones and play the haunting Massenet song which is the only classical piece you have on an iPod full of Kate Bush and Prince, and - fuming that you still don't know anything about classical music and will never get to learn anything ever because people are so goddamed unhelpful - pack for the concentration camp tour tomorrow.
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Things I Did This Weekend
1. Drove to Boston on a beautiful sunny day, in a Chevrolet, surrounded by pink and yellow autumn leaves falling across the windshield.
2. Drove away from Boston in the dead of night, in a Chevrolet, surrounded by torrential rain, and sleet and fog so thick I could barely see anything out of the windshield.
3. Drove straight from Washington DC to midtown Manhattan, timing it perfectly badly to clash with every other weekender coming back into town at 5pm on a Sunday night.
4. Refueled in Manhattan - this took almost an hour due to me timing it perfectly once more with what I think must have also been 'official' cab refueling time.
5. Dropped hire car back, and even when the GPS lost satellite reception in the Park Avenue tunnel, never to return, I could still somehow find my way to the hire car place. Which is weird because on foot I can never navigate like that.
6. Cried strained tears of joy that I was home, that I wasn't dead, that I hadn't killed anybody, and that it was actually probably easier than I had built it up to be.
7. Went to the Australian Consulate and found out the deal with doing an absentee vote for the federal election.
8. Got an extension on my Australian tax return lodgment date, after a 17 minute international call to the AEC.
9. Ate jambalaya (vegetarian style) for the first time.
10. Read more than just the Book Review section of the New York Times for once. Even flicked vaguely through the sports section. (Was on the Boston Red Sox bandwagon for about two seconds there when 'the big game' was on.)
11. Entered the green card lottery and prayed, prayed, prayed.
12. Bought some black mittens and a red skivvy in preparation for the winter that never seems to come.
That's just about it. I think I deserve a holiday in Eastern Europe now with one of my best friends in the entire world joining me in Berlin on the weekend. What a lucky and wonderful life I seem to have. See you intermittently. In fact, see you interMITTEntly (ha ha) as I will be staying in Mitte first. After that, I have no plans. If you have any ideas of what I should do between Berlin and Prague, please do let me know.
I was thinking of staring out of train windows at beautiful rolling countryside, re-reading some Kafka, buying vintage dresses, and starting work on my debut novel (originally titled, 'A Young Girl's Search for Her Identity in a World Gone Mad', but now tentatively changed to, 'Meg Ryan, Katz's, and Me: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the RomCom') but I'm open to other suggestions too.
2. Drove away from Boston in the dead of night, in a Chevrolet, surrounded by torrential rain, and sleet and fog so thick I could barely see anything out of the windshield.
3. Drove straight from Washington DC to midtown Manhattan, timing it perfectly badly to clash with every other weekender coming back into town at 5pm on a Sunday night.
4. Refueled in Manhattan - this took almost an hour due to me timing it perfectly once more with what I think must have also been 'official' cab refueling time.
5. Dropped hire car back, and even when the GPS lost satellite reception in the Park Avenue tunnel, never to return, I could still somehow find my way to the hire car place. Which is weird because on foot I can never navigate like that.
6. Cried strained tears of joy that I was home, that I wasn't dead, that I hadn't killed anybody, and that it was actually probably easier than I had built it up to be.
7. Went to the Australian Consulate and found out the deal with doing an absentee vote for the federal election.
8. Got an extension on my Australian tax return lodgment date, after a 17 minute international call to the AEC.
9. Ate jambalaya (vegetarian style) for the first time.
10. Read more than just the Book Review section of the New York Times for once. Even flicked vaguely through the sports section. (Was on the Boston Red Sox bandwagon for about two seconds there when 'the big game' was on.)
11. Entered the green card lottery and prayed, prayed, prayed.
12. Bought some black mittens and a red skivvy in preparation for the winter that never seems to come.
That's just about it. I think I deserve a holiday in Eastern Europe now with one of my best friends in the entire world joining me in Berlin on the weekend. What a lucky and wonderful life I seem to have. See you intermittently. In fact, see you interMITTEntly (ha ha) as I will be staying in Mitte first. After that, I have no plans. If you have any ideas of what I should do between Berlin and Prague, please do let me know.
I was thinking of staring out of train windows at beautiful rolling countryside, re-reading some Kafka, buying vintage dresses, and starting work on my debut novel (originally titled, 'A Young Girl's Search for Her Identity in a World Gone Mad', but now tentatively changed to, 'Meg Ryan, Katz's, and Me: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the RomCom') but I'm open to other suggestions too.
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
Scenes from a New York Driving Lesson
My lesson is at 9am on a Monday morning. Peak hour. My teacher is Sean. He is parked opposite Walgreen's on 23rd St in his car, a 15 year-old, beat-up, beige I-don't-even-know-what, maybe a Honda, with a yellow and black sticker slapped on the rear bumper - 'STUDENT DRIVER'. He is leaning up against it and doesn't say a word when I appear - he just gets into the passenger seat. I take this as a sign that I should get into the driver's seat. I throw my stuff into the back, feeling like I'm going on some weird American date - where I have to drive. I introduce myself and give a brief bio.
LORELEI: Hi! I have been driving for ten years in Australia but I am just extremely cautious out about driving in New York and Boston and Washington DC this weekend and so just need a 'crash' course (ha ha! let's hope not!) in driving on the righthand side of the road and reverse parking backwards. I know that doesn't make sense, but you know, parking the wrong way round, you know.
SEAN: Ok, well why don't you just pull out then.
LORELEI: Ok, so I mean, I don't even know where the indicators are. I kind of need to start right at the beginning here.
SEAN: They're on your left.
LORELEI: Ok, so I'll indicate left to pull out. Why isn't it working?
SEAN: Oh yeah, ok so sometimes the left indicator in this car doesn't work. That's fine, just pull out.
LORELEI: What, in front of this truck?
SEAN: Just go - now! Now! Now!
We pull out and suddenly I am driving in New York City.
LORELEI: So, I can't even work out how many lanes we are in right now.
SEAN: Well, it's one, or two, and then you have those cars sitting in what might be a third lane. It should actually just be one lane here, but that van has just turned it into two.
LORELEI: How is any of this allowed? Why is that cab honking at me?
SEAN: Just go with the flow.
We are now driving around Chinatown.
SEAN: So, you don't need to put on your indicator every time you turn.
LORELEI: I thought that was what an indicator was for.
SEAN: Well, if you were going for your test I'd make you use it, but in real life, you don't really have to.
LORELEI: But how will people know what I'm planning to do? How will I know what they're planning to do?
SEAN: Just go with the flow. Ok, take this right down 9th St. Don't indicate!
We are suddenly on FDR Drive, cruising - if you can cruise nervously - up the east side of Manhattan.
LORELEI: So, what's the speed limit here anyway?
SEAN: Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: Ok, but I mean, it would be good to know the limit because I don't want to get a ticket or anything.
SEAN: There's no limit in New York City.
LORELEI: I just saw a sign that said 30!
SEAN: Well, no one follows it. I don't even know why it's there.
LORELEI: Ok, well then what's the general speed limit on highways?
SEAN: Well, the slowest you should go is the limit.
LORELEI: I don't understand.
SEAN: If the limit is 5o, you should never go below it.
LORELEI: Isn't that only in the movies? Isn't that only if there's a bomb on the bus? Doesn't the speed limit mean it's the highest limit you should go?
SEAN: Everyone drives faster than the limit. So you have to drive at least at that limit.
LORELEI: What about speed cameras?
SEAN: We don't have them in the US.
LORELEI: I just saw a sign that said ...
SEAN: That sign talked about speed radar cameras. That means a policeman standing on the side of the road. I know for a fact there are none here. You don't ever get them on the FDR because it's too narrow. You don't need to worry about cameras.
LORELEI: But I WANT to worry about cameras!
SEAN: Let's take this exit.
Back on the Lower East Side, reviewing the hour-long lesson.
LORELEI: Ok, so this is all I need to know then - to turn right, you stay near the curb. To turn left, you go up and cross traffic and just make sure you turn onto the right side of the road.
SEAN: That's it. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: And on highways, you have the right lane for exiting, the middle lane is the slow lane, and the left lane is the fast lane.
SEAN: Right. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: And now I understand what a Yield sign means, which is really helpful.
SEAN: Right. And don't forget to put on your left indicator on when you are merging onto a highway when you see that Yield sign.
LORELEI: You told me I don't need to use my indicator!
SEAN: I was just talking about driving in the city. You definitely have to use it when you're merging lanes on a highway.
LORELEI: Well, what about Boston then? Any tips? I've heard it's crazy driving around there.
SEAN: You've just driven around New York, lady. You'll be fine in Boston. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: Ok, I got it. Go with the flow.
SEAN: Drive safe now! Good luck!
LORELEI: Hi! I have been driving for ten years in Australia but I am just extremely cautious out about driving in New York and Boston and Washington DC this weekend and so just need a 'crash' course (ha ha! let's hope not!) in driving on the righthand side of the road and reverse parking backwards. I know that doesn't make sense, but you know, parking the wrong way round, you know.
SEAN: Ok, well why don't you just pull out then.
LORELEI: Ok, so I mean, I don't even know where the indicators are. I kind of need to start right at the beginning here.
SEAN: They're on your left.
LORELEI: Ok, so I'll indicate left to pull out. Why isn't it working?
SEAN: Oh yeah, ok so sometimes the left indicator in this car doesn't work. That's fine, just pull out.
LORELEI: What, in front of this truck?
SEAN: Just go - now! Now! Now!
We pull out and suddenly I am driving in New York City.
LORELEI: So, I can't even work out how many lanes we are in right now.
SEAN: Well, it's one, or two, and then you have those cars sitting in what might be a third lane. It should actually just be one lane here, but that van has just turned it into two.
LORELEI: How is any of this allowed? Why is that cab honking at me?
SEAN: Just go with the flow.
We are now driving around Chinatown.
SEAN: So, you don't need to put on your indicator every time you turn.
LORELEI: I thought that was what an indicator was for.
SEAN: Well, if you were going for your test I'd make you use it, but in real life, you don't really have to.
LORELEI: But how will people know what I'm planning to do? How will I know what they're planning to do?
SEAN: Just go with the flow. Ok, take this right down 9th St. Don't indicate!
We are suddenly on FDR Drive, cruising - if you can cruise nervously - up the east side of Manhattan.
LORELEI: So, what's the speed limit here anyway?
SEAN: Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: Ok, but I mean, it would be good to know the limit because I don't want to get a ticket or anything.
SEAN: There's no limit in New York City.
LORELEI: I just saw a sign that said 30!
SEAN: Well, no one follows it. I don't even know why it's there.
LORELEI: Ok, well then what's the general speed limit on highways?
SEAN: Well, the slowest you should go is the limit.
LORELEI: I don't understand.
SEAN: If the limit is 5o, you should never go below it.
LORELEI: Isn't that only in the movies? Isn't that only if there's a bomb on the bus? Doesn't the speed limit mean it's the highest limit you should go?
SEAN: Everyone drives faster than the limit. So you have to drive at least at that limit.
LORELEI: What about speed cameras?
SEAN: We don't have them in the US.
LORELEI: I just saw a sign that said ...
SEAN: That sign talked about speed radar cameras. That means a policeman standing on the side of the road. I know for a fact there are none here. You don't ever get them on the FDR because it's too narrow. You don't need to worry about cameras.
LORELEI: But I WANT to worry about cameras!
SEAN: Let's take this exit.
Back on the Lower East Side, reviewing the hour-long lesson.
LORELEI: Ok, so this is all I need to know then - to turn right, you stay near the curb. To turn left, you go up and cross traffic and just make sure you turn onto the right side of the road.
SEAN: That's it. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: And on highways, you have the right lane for exiting, the middle lane is the slow lane, and the left lane is the fast lane.
SEAN: Right. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: And now I understand what a Yield sign means, which is really helpful.
SEAN: Right. And don't forget to put on your left indicator on when you are merging onto a highway when you see that Yield sign.
LORELEI: You told me I don't need to use my indicator!
SEAN: I was just talking about driving in the city. You definitely have to use it when you're merging lanes on a highway.
LORELEI: Well, what about Boston then? Any tips? I've heard it's crazy driving around there.
SEAN: You've just driven around New York, lady. You'll be fine in Boston. Just go with the flow.
LORELEI: Ok, I got it. Go with the flow.
SEAN: Drive safe now! Good luck!
Saturday, 13 October 2007
Enough complaining!
I am in NEW YORK, and I got to witness THIS:
No, not just a partially-obscured neon sign ...
Not even just a dazzlingly stark stage setting ...
But ...
the lady ...
Herself.
Wonderful as ever. Cracking something new and incredible that is beyond description, really.
Makes me feel like a fool for ever getting tired of this place.
No, not just a partially-obscured neon sign ...
Not even just a dazzlingly stark stage setting ...
But ...
the lady ...
Herself.Wonderful as ever. Cracking something new and incredible that is beyond description, really.
Makes me feel like a fool for ever getting tired of this place.
Still here ...
Just really, really busy.
The one thing about living in a metropolis that is also a highly-desirable tourist destination is the amount of visitors one receives weekly and whom one feels obligated to see and entertain and show around. Each visitor, each guest, as an individual and by themselves is not only warmly regarded by me and a genuine sight for sore eyes and relief in this crazy place, but is also very welcome and wanted. I can't tell you the number of people who I have seen for two short hours in New York, but whose visit has reminded me of everything good about everything, and inspired me to keep going.
But altogether, in a long string, one person after the other, all summer long and now well into the fall, seemingly neverending, filling up the slips of time between work and sleep - their presence only conspires to turn me into a lifelong New York tour guide. Which is ironic really, as I never even know where to take anyone anyway. We always end up eating the oily but cheap Indian on 2nd avenue, and then walking around the East Village with me pointing out, 'And that's the drugstore where I had to buy a new packet of Band-aids back in June because I had really bad blisters. Oh, and this is where I once saw a girl wearing an amazing dress that I really loved.'
Can you please, if you will, imagine that your own town of residence - perhaps Melbourne, or Brisbane, or Buderim, or Dresden - was swarmed with - not just friends, but friends of friends, or Facebook friends, every week someone new, but always bringing with them that same intoxicating HOME-ness that pulls you back into old worlds and lives you don't care to ever really think too much about again. And they - while not exactly demanding to see you in any sort of threatening way, still innocently EXPECT that you would be able to see them at some point during their 3 day visit - if this happened every single week, what would your life be like? I ask you!
You, like me, are probably just quietly trying to quietly hold down your 50 hour-a-week paid job, and 10 hours of unpaid charity work a week, and eat two meals a day, and finish reading a book every month or so, and read the paper on Sundays to stay afloat and informed, while keeping your main goal of getting a job as a book editor, or exploring spiritual enlightenment, or starting a band, or writing a book always in your sights at the same time and inching slowly in those directions too. I ask you, wouldn't this type of regular intrusion be unacceptable and disallowed? It's just NOT NORMAL!! Not every week, at any rate. And not for months on end, with no visible end in sight, because there will always be someone new coming into town.
Meanwhile, the number of deep and longlasting friendships I am able to cultivate is nil, as the one-off hurricanes that storm through town somehow get all the attention instead. And look, I know it says more about me than it does about anything else at all really- it's got a lot to do with me being unable to say no (although I am trying to get better at this).
Still, it's something that I know I didn't sign up for when I agreed to all the other ridiculous and rocky stuff that living in New York was going to present me with. I thought this town itself would unbalance me more than the people who were moving in and out like kelp through the teeth of a whale and who were certainly not deliberately in New York to use up all my precious time.
Having said all this, I'm about to head off to Berlin for a couple of weeks and do exactly to other people what I've been saying exhausts ME so much. I can only hope they can be more generous than I sound right now.
Sorry everyone, but I have work to do or I won't even still be here next summer. And THEN who will you get to be your hostess, huh?
The one thing about living in a metropolis that is also a highly-desirable tourist destination is the amount of visitors one receives weekly and whom one feels obligated to see and entertain and show around. Each visitor, each guest, as an individual and by themselves is not only warmly regarded by me and a genuine sight for sore eyes and relief in this crazy place, but is also very welcome and wanted. I can't tell you the number of people who I have seen for two short hours in New York, but whose visit has reminded me of everything good about everything, and inspired me to keep going.
But altogether, in a long string, one person after the other, all summer long and now well into the fall, seemingly neverending, filling up the slips of time between work and sleep - their presence only conspires to turn me into a lifelong New York tour guide. Which is ironic really, as I never even know where to take anyone anyway. We always end up eating the oily but cheap Indian on 2nd avenue, and then walking around the East Village with me pointing out, 'And that's the drugstore where I had to buy a new packet of Band-aids back in June because I had really bad blisters. Oh, and this is where I once saw a girl wearing an amazing dress that I really loved.'
Can you please, if you will, imagine that your own town of residence - perhaps Melbourne, or Brisbane, or Buderim, or Dresden - was swarmed with - not just friends, but friends of friends, or Facebook friends, every week someone new, but always bringing with them that same intoxicating HOME-ness that pulls you back into old worlds and lives you don't care to ever really think too much about again. And they - while not exactly demanding to see you in any sort of threatening way, still innocently EXPECT that you would be able to see them at some point during their 3 day visit - if this happened every single week, what would your life be like? I ask you!
You, like me, are probably just quietly trying to quietly hold down your 50 hour-a-week paid job, and 10 hours of unpaid charity work a week, and eat two meals a day, and finish reading a book every month or so, and read the paper on Sundays to stay afloat and informed, while keeping your main goal of getting a job as a book editor, or exploring spiritual enlightenment, or starting a band, or writing a book always in your sights at the same time and inching slowly in those directions too. I ask you, wouldn't this type of regular intrusion be unacceptable and disallowed? It's just NOT NORMAL!! Not every week, at any rate. And not for months on end, with no visible end in sight, because there will always be someone new coming into town.
Meanwhile, the number of deep and longlasting friendships I am able to cultivate is nil, as the one-off hurricanes that storm through town somehow get all the attention instead. And look, I know it says more about me than it does about anything else at all really- it's got a lot to do with me being unable to say no (although I am trying to get better at this).
Still, it's something that I know I didn't sign up for when I agreed to all the other ridiculous and rocky stuff that living in New York was going to present me with. I thought this town itself would unbalance me more than the people who were moving in and out like kelp through the teeth of a whale and who were certainly not deliberately in New York to use up all my precious time.
Having said all this, I'm about to head off to Berlin for a couple of weeks and do exactly to other people what I've been saying exhausts ME so much. I can only hope they can be more generous than I sound right now.
Sorry everyone, but I have work to do or I won't even still be here next summer. And THEN who will you get to be your hostess, huh?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
