Loving the breeze whilst studying in bed.

My new room is so peaceful. These are going to be 3 very short months.

Finally. I am sitting in my new bed, eating an actual meal-- not standing and scarfing a sandwich-- I am relaxing and watching a show after a very very long day of moving. And my new room has blinds so I can sleep in tomorrow. Finally.

And, I am so wonderfully pleased by the goodness in people. Thank you friends. For the move, and for the pup. I am so so so so so so so glad that people came through for him.

Miyazaki goodness

wowza

I wasn't a huge fan of any of the dances this week-- but I liked the group dance. That Tabitha and Napoleon.

Whoa

Damn MTA

How many times must the MTA make me late for work? Today I was sitting still down there for 20 minutes. This was my view. I am an extremely dissatisfied customer. Who resents hiked prices for not-improved services.

The down side

Today I returned a dress that I loved. Because, if all goes according to plan, it will just be too big for me in a couple of months. I bought it about a month ago, and spent too much money on it-- I LOVED it. And it looked great on me. But for that investment, it had better be a dress to last me years, not months. So goodbye pounds, goodbye dress, hello South America. I should have been saving that money anyway.

While packing, I've come across some clothing I haven't worn since I left home. My work pants from W-S that were border-line tight when I left Pittsford? Quite loose! In the trash, my friends. That green corduroy jacket I have been wearing for years? Too big! Follow the pants! I feel great. Thank you NYC for being a walking city, a stairs city, and for the free gym memberships I have been provided.

Bed.Bugs.

Hey Poppy!

I have a love/hate relationship with Washington Heights.

Love: the community, neighborhood atmosphere. Once it's warm out, no one stays inside. Their living rooms are communal, on the sidewalk, in the streets, in the parks. Countless lawn chairs are unfolded on the sidewalk, radios and stereos accompany your walk home, children run chaotically around between countless groups of bingo-players, all the men are grouped around their tables of dominoes. They are serious about their dominoes. Soon the fire hydrants will be broken open to blast cool water into the street, but it's not quite hot enough for that yet (I finally saw the first one yesterday, so it's getting there). The sidewalks, streets, and parks are strewn with collective chicken bones. My dog has a hey-day. Everywhere I walk, any time of day or night, whether I have no makeup and my gym clothes on, or if I'm all done up for a night out, I unfailingly get hit on. "Hey Mommy!" "Hey white girl!" *lip-smack-kissy-sound* From guys around my age all the way up through the old men with no teeth, everyone checks you out. Does this get old? Yes. Did it make me uncomfortable at first? Absolutely. Is it nevertheless flattering? Yes. I don't quite understand the reasoning behind this incessant hitting-on; do they ever think it will get them anywhere? But it will never change. No matter how many times I pretend I can't hear them through my iPod. Dominican men will, however, help a girl out. If they see me struggling, carrying a heavy load of laundry up my stairs, it is out of my hands into theirs. I don't often give them the opportunity, but once in a while it is very appreciated. I can walk the streets by myself here at 4 in the morning and not feel at all in danger. Am I going to make a habit of it, or make myself conspicuous? Of course not. And is the reason for it generally a favorable one? Not really. But it is still useful. (I live in a two-block span of the highest drug trafficking in upper Manhattan. Because of this, drug lords keep a very tight rein on what goes on in these two blocks. There isn't a lot of trouble around here because that would attract police attention-- obviously not desirable from a drug lord's perspective.) There is a bodega in a two block radius open at all times in case you get the sudden urge for oreos, plantains, candy, or anything else unhealthy. There is generally a great deal of friendliness around here, especially if you speak Spanish. There is no way you can't feel a part of the neighborhood here, and I really appreciate that.

In my new place, I will still be in the Heights, but it's a more diversified Heights. Here, on 172nd and Amsterdam, Sarah, myself, and the two girls across the hall are the ONLY non-Dominicans. Once you get west of Broadway, this isn't quite the case. So the cultural identity is manifest to the extreme here. And that includes the aspects of the neighborhood that I am not so in love with.

Hate: THE EXCESSIVE NOISE ALL NIGHT LONG. The Dominican culture very much appreciates music, dancing, and having a good time. No matter how many people you live around or how late at night it is. In fact, I find it much easier to sleep during the day than at night. I have already expressed, in a previous post, how much I appreciate a love of music and dance in a culture. AND, I would prefer not to hear music blasting through my earplugs at 3 in the morning when I have to get up at 5:30 to go to work. I don't even have a typical 8-5 job like many New Yorkers do, which would make the situation all the more inconsiderate. This is what I am most excited to leave behind. My new street is ever so much quieter, and it will be such a relief. Currently, I lay down in bed on the weekends with quite a bit of stress, nervous that I won't be able to sleep that night. And dealing with possibly irritating clients for 8 hours the next day on three hours of sleep is pretty daunting. The typical Dominican practice is to open all the doors of a car parked on the street, and crank the music as loud as it will go. Which is EXTREMELY LOUD. Which is loud enough to rattle things on my desk. On the fourth floor. There are typically 2 cars on each block set up in this way. So I lay down, close my eyes, and I feel that bass BUM. bum bum. BUM. bum bum. Like a constant, off-kilter tapping on my heart. A police car rolls by, and they turn it down. And then they turn it up again. Obviously, not everywhere in the Heights is like this. I just happen to live in a pocket of 100% Dominicans. Who are living their culture loud and proud. And I would prefer to sleep at night, so I'm saying so long. I am also saying so long to the pungent smell of weed that constantly pervades the western half of my block. To the old men (every man) who will not leave me alone, whether it be with their mouths, gestures, or eyes. To the streets and park that are trashed every single night.

Some of these things may happen in other parts of Manhattan. And I am hoping (and expecting) that not all of them do simultaneously. Or that at least my ear plugs will keep enough of the noise out. Because I'm not asking for perfect silence, I am only asking for enough quiet that none of the noise will leak through my ear plugs, which I am perfectly willing to wear every night in exchange for enough sleep.

So it is, with a bittersweet goodbye, that I bid adieu to 172nd and Amsterdam. Despite everything, I am grateful for my 9 months here. It has been truly different from any other living situation I have ever experienced. I welcome that. I am really glad to have gotten to know some Dominican culture, and history, while living here. I have been happy in my very first own apartment. It was a nest perched up above a park, however infested it may have been. It was mine, and I loved it.

Hello 163rd and the annoyances I don't know exist yet.

hi Mia

Well damn, there goes Ashley. I do not agree.

this is big

I do NOT like Brandon. He rubs me the wrong way. And I DO NOT LIKE DISCO. And damn, this number was pretty fantastic.

And P.S. Ashley and Kupono are up there for me as a couple. Just an FYI. Even if they didn't quite rock their number this week, I think I can tell that they are fantastic dancers nevertheless.

new choreographer

I don't like Jonathan, and I think this dance would have been much better in someone else's hands. And I like this new choreographer. Yes, I am a sucker for contemporary, and yes, I am a sucker for this song. AND the dance was beautiful.

(when we train, we say AND instead of BUT, and it is somewhat difficult to get out of that habit. Pardon me please.)

rolling over and going back to sleep

OMG blog. What a week. I know there were other things I wanted to post about, and then I went into SOS, and I have no memory prior to it. What is SOS? It is the basic training program all Seph0ra employees attend (ideally), that teaches the basics of skincare, complexion, makeup, and client service. It is what I went to T the T in March to be able to teach. And boy did I teach. I worked 53 hours in 4 days, and that does not include the 4 hours a night that I prepared for my following day's presentations. Hello sleep deprivation.

And it was a success. I had a great time, the participants had a great time, and we all learned a lot. I always come away from a week of education refreshed in an exhausted-to-the-bones way. The education program is by far the best thing about this company. That is where the best people are, the best practices are, the best spirit is. And I get to go back and do another in about a week. Because I am good at this.

And before that, I am moving! That's right, I'm moving down to 163rd. We hate our landlords, and we are ditching them. I'll be saving some money and living in a nicer place because Sarah and I are sharing a room. And I feel great about it. I do not feel great about the actual packing and moving. AND it will be a vast improvement. Hello west side of Broadway. Hello white people. Hello nights without my cosmetic table reverberating with the bass. Hello less cockroaches and a Super in the building. Hello to quiet, book-filled existence.

Hello 5th floor walk-up. Yikes. (Why is this apartment so expensive?!) AND, no worries, I am still saving money by sharing a room. This place is cute guys. Who wants to help me walk boxes from 172nd to 163rd? I have a week to do it.

I want to go to there

Exploring the relationship between art and nature? I must go there!

Wade Robson, how I have missed YOU!

my other favorite.

one of my favorites this week

OH SYTYCD! How I have missed you. And here comes the deluge of SYTYCD posts.

I miss watching this show with someone else and talking about it throughout (I definitely thought the judges could have been a litlte more harsh in a couple of cases...)

Loved this.