I decided that my life this summer is going to be crazy and fun (I mean, I am not saying it really *will* be but whatever) so I am going to need to blog about it.
What You Missed
I graduated, stopped studying Japanese (not on purpose!), moved to New York, moved to DC, and am going to move to Chicago. It’s been a little crazy.
So I miss my friends at Wellesley a LOT. Like I am not going to post pictures of them, because that would be a breach of privacy, but I am friends with some of the smartest, kindest, most talented people on this planet. I have been steps away from the people who are going to change the world as soon as they figure where they put their backpack/wallet/flask/beer. I got used to being able to knock on MC’s door and just say hi, or run over to Pom and chill with people. Or saying “hey, let’s grab lunch!” and being able to make it happen in a week, not having to travel across the country for it.
On the other hand, I am super proud of my friends and all they are going to accomplish. Let’s be real – I will be using their couches for years to come.
New York smells like a dog or a homeless person pissed on hot garbage all the time.
I love it.
I have really disliked New York the first two times I visited. Its busy, its hot, there is trash ON THE STREETS (like animals, seriously), and the skyscrapers were too tall and it was so expensive. But this time, I don’t know if it was where I was (Lower Manhattan), or the fact that I am older, but I really liked it. I definitely wouldn’t want to live there forever, but I might summer there in law school.
I think the real thing is that I am in love with happy hour. There were happy hours in Tokyo, but they are illegal in Boston and Providence – two places I normally go to drink. So I was able to go out (in moderation – some people go HAAM and ain’t nobody got time, nor money, for that) and have fun and not break the bank. Or break the bank with some delicious cocktails.
Basically New York is the kind of place I would love to live if I was rich. Chicago is infinitely superior in terms of green space for children or eyeballs, but New York is… New York. I feel like I finally got the magic of the city.
Or maybe it was the taxi fumes.
Literally JFK is the worst airport EVER though. I almost missed my graduation because of rain delays which cancelled or delayed every flight to Boston from 12pm to 11:15pm for upwards of eight hours. My original flight was cancelled, I was placed on a 8pm flight, which then left at 3am. I wasn’t on it though – I took a train to New Haven.
Then coming BACK, skies were clear, we were clear but nope – JFK air traffic control is like “Yeah… call us back in an hour.” I went from landing at 2:30pm, with time to buy my airplane ticket at counter, get to the hotel, nap, and then go out, to landing at 5:45, getting back to the hotel at 6:45, and sprinting to the bar to meet people late AF. Ugh.
Me vs. Smoke Detector
So I finally get to DC a week after my last delay. I check out the apartment. It’s adorable. A studio, two closets, adorable kitchen, adorable bathroom. I go to Goodwill and pick up chairs and a crock pot (plot relevant), and then to Walmart to buy meat and food and everything else I needed for my semi-unfurnished space.
I sleep well, having watermelon and coffee for dinner.
Next morning I cook – nothing wrong. I go to target, grab some missing essentials, and then decide to cook chicken thighs.
This is where it goes wrong.
Maybe I had the heat too high, maybe I used too much oil, but it starts to smoke. No biggie – there’s no fire, its cooking, whatever. Not for my smoke detector which is three feet to the left and ten feet above the stove. At that closeness any little hint of smoke would set it off. So it goes off. I wave a towel and it stops. I open the windows, turn on the fan and the vent, it goes off again. I stand on a chair for TWO HOURS fanning the damn smoke detector. My chicken was resting in a pan in the bathroom so it wasn’t steaming near it. My potatoes did the same. I tried to take out the batteries; no batteries to take out. I try to silence it, it works once and then not again. I end up being so nervous its going to go off I fan it for probably half an hour longer then necessary. I look crazy with my hair a mess, standing on a chair, waving at the smoke detector.
Luckily the chicken was delicious.
TL;DR Come read about my adventures in adulting this summer!