The Cat on the Hat

One of my favorite things about New York City is the amazing people watching.  No matter where you are - on the subway, walking down the street, in our apartment - there's always someone or something interesting to stare at.  Trannies, grown men riding scooters (not vespas, actual man-powered scooters), celebs, you name it.  While I can't begin to list all of the interesting, funny and downright bizarre things I've seen in the last three weeks, a few stand out in my mind:

Our neighbor's ass.  That's right, from our apartment, Jeff and I have a perfect view of the penthouse on the building next door.  And in that penthouse reside two men, one of whom loves his naked morning time.  We've definitely had a few full moons in the last month.  And like the mature adults that we are, we always call each other over to the window to stare and giggle for a few minutes before shutting the blinds or looking away.

A woman walking down the street holding her baby in a Baby Bjorn.  Breastfeeding.  I looked up from my Shake Shack burger a few weeks ago right as she passed by, left boob completely exposed while her child bobbed up and down in the Baby Bjorn, trying to latch on.  I had always heard New Yorkers were very efficient, but now I've seen it with my own two eyes.

And finally, this:

A man walking down the street balancing his cat on his head.  Just out for a leisurely stroll, nothing to see here.  Ahh, only in New York.

Guest Blogger - Cali Mueller

Although I know that you should never begin a story with this lead in, I am going to do it anyway.  I am nervous.  This is the first time that I have ever used a computer, and for that matter, the English language.  I will give it a shot though.  Last Saturday morning began like any other here in NYC, the Big Apple, The Empire State, home of Jay-Z.  God I love Jay-Z.  He can drop the beats.  Sorry, I digress.  Saturday morning began with me hopping out of bed around 4 am to poop in a litter box, and then trying to grab a few more hours of sleep despite my parents snoring.  We eventually woke up, and it was time to begin the routine terror.  Terror you ask?  Allow me to give you a glimpse into the life of a newly arrived NYC miniature wiener dog who is 3 inches tall and only weighs 8 pounds.  Ok, 10…the bakeries here are irresistible.  Lay off me. 

I wake up every morning to be walked across a hot street with noises and smells I have never before experienced.  I am lucky if water isn’t pouring from above into my sponge-like fur.  Once I barely make it across the street with my life, my mom or dad, or sometimes both, drag me onto a slab of bricks and start yelling “Go Potty!” in uncharacteristically high pitched voices.  It’s so annoying.  Then, usually right as I am about to get started, another dog, or dogs (plural), walks right over to me shoving and barking with a weird and terrible accent.   Sometimes they have earphones in.  Those are the worst.  So far I have been assaulted, rained on, yelled at by a homeless dog, almost stepped on, scared by monster shadows, and the other day, and this is no joke, a limousine drove by in the rain, hit a puddle and splashed me.  Where was my dad you might ask?  Staring at his smart phone.

So, back to Saturday.  We begin the routine.  Then after I do my business we keep going.  Block by block we walk through the hot and smelly city.  Just when I am about to throw in the towel and simply sit, I see a familiar sight.  Is that a park?  In the city?  I think the sign says something like “Central Park,” but again, I don’t know English.  We walk in, and out of nowhere my mom takes my collar off.  That’s right, she removes the leash.  I’m free!  I’m free!  I run around.  I can literally feel my heart in my chest I am so excited.  We eventually get to a path that is actually made of forest as opposed to pavement.  I’ll never forget it.  The sign said, “The Ramble.”  We take it.  I dart down the path with the excitement of Kyle Shoop digging into chocolate cake.  I go left, I go right, I go up and I go down.  There are trees, trails, bushes, and even a lake.  You can see the picture of my mom and me on the bridge looking into the lake.  I’m a forest dog, I’m fast like the wind.  It felt like it lasted all day.  The smells, the freedom.  If you told me a week ago that Cali Mueller would ever make this next statement, I would have slapped you in the face with my paw and called you a liar.  Here it is though, “I liked the ramble better than fetch.” Thanks mom and dad.  I have a new outlook on NYC now.  As Jay Z once said, if you can make it here you can make it anywhere.  I think I am going to be alright.  I’m a rambler.

Checking out the lake

Fresh Direct: You Had Me at Hello

In New York City, you can have pretty much anything delivered . . . usually for a fee, of course, but if you're willing to pay it, someone is willing to deliver it.  We had heard about Fresh Direct, a grocery delivery service, long before we moved to the City, but were hesitant to try it out because we figured it would be a little too expensive for our one income/student budget.  So we spent the first few weeks trying to find the cheapest grocery store on the Upper West Side.  We hit up Trader Joes, known for its reasonable prices in San Diego, and realized that the prices were pretty comparable here.  Next we tried Fairway, an Upper West Side institution.  At Fairway, you can choose your produce from either outside the store or inside it.  But if you select blueberries from the outdoor produce stand, you better be sure to tell the cashier that's where you got them, or rest assured she'll be charging you the higher inside price.  While Fairway has a vast selection, the store is very cramped and filled with unfamiliar East Coast brands.  Then about a week ago, when we were too tired to make the trek to Trader Joes, we finally caved into the temptation of ordering our groceries online and having them delivered to our doorstep.  Enter Fresh Direct.  In less than 30 minutes, we had filled our "shopping cart" with all of the groceries we needed that week, including cleaning supplies and a few prepared, microwave only meals, all from the comfort of our couch.  The next morning, we received our groceries from the delivery man.  And just like that, I was hooked.  I'm pretty sure I'll never set foot in a grocery store for the next two years.

Restaurant Review: Shake Shack

Shake Shack is one of New York's most popular burger chains, which I've been dying to try out since we visited last March.  Now that we only live a block away from one (dangerous), we decided to check it out on Friday.  We've got a few really delicious burger joints in San Diego, most notably Burger Lounge, so we were curious to see how Shake Shack would measure up.  We ordered a cheeseburger, Shake Burger, portobello mushroom burger, french fries, chocolate shake and two beers.  And yes, in case you're wondering, it was just Jeff and I at dinner.  I tried the Shake Burger, while Jeff sampled the portobello mushroom burger and cheeseburger.  My Shake Burger was pretty good and my favorite part was the bun, which was a touch sweeter than the buns I'm used to at Burger Lounge.  Jeff's portobello burger was . . . interesting.  It was certainly not the "healthy" vegetarian burger alternative we thought we were getting.  It was basically a deep fried portobello mushroom stuffed with cheese.  Yummy.  The crinkle-cut fries were fun and the chocolate shake met my #1 criteria for chocolate shakes: it was actually made with chocolate ice cream, not vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup.  All-in-all, we thought the burgers were good but a touch overrated, and no match for Burger Lounge.

The Shake Shack sampler platter

Taste test

Down the Rabbit Hole

I'm finally starting to get the hang of using the subways.  I feel pretty proud of myself when I manage to get where I need to go without getting lost, and even more so if the trip involved switching trains halfway through.  That being said, twice now I've gone down the wrong subway entrance on my way home from work.  The first time it happened, I thought I had discovered a quicker route to my subway line.  Wrong.  I spent 5 minutes following signs for the 2/3 line like a maze.  I walked down a long tunnel, up a flight of stairs, back down a different flight of stairs, up another flight of stairs and finally made it to the right platform, just as my train was pulling away.  Of course.  Now, you think I would have learned my lesson.  But only a week later I did the same thing.  At the exact same spot.  After what seemed like 30 minutes of following the 2/3 line maze, and right as I began to panic, I found the right platform and hopped on my train home.  Now I'm a little more careful about which entrance I take to the subway.

Note to self: do not take this entrance!

Oh What a Night!

We've had my dad and Kenna Sue in town visiting for the last week.  The timing of their trip could not have been better, as they were here yesterday to help us upack when the movers finally arrived with all of our stuff.  And while we were waiting for the movers to actually get here, we had some spare time to take in some of the culture and entertainment New York City has to offer.  We saw Jersey Boys on Saturday night and the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met on Sunday afternoon.  For those of you who have not seen Jersey Boys, let me just say, it was fantastic!  The pagentry, the costumes.  Wow, what a musical!

A very special thanks to my dad and Kenna Sue for helping us get unpacked.  Without them, I think we would have lost our minds while the movers hauled box after box into our tiny apartment.  We had a great time visiting with them and can't wait to see them out here again soon!

Our First Week: Some Lessons Learned

It’s hard to believe we’ve been here for a week already!  And even harder to believe that we’ve been living in New York for one week . . . in an empty apartment.  Why are we living in an empty apartment?  Well, that’s because our stuff, which was “guaranteed” to be delivered on July 26th, will finally arrive tomorrow.  In the meantime, we’ve been making do with an air mattress, a few sets of plastic utensils we borrowed from our local pub, and patience.  Okay, that last part might be a lie.  Needless to say, the last week has been exciting, a bit stressful and exhausting.  We’ve made three trips to our local Bed Bath & Beyond, two trips to the local furniture store, two trips to the grocery store and 7 trips to the coffee shop next door.  We’ve learned that you must press the “door close” button on the elevator or the door won’t actually shut, Chipotle tastes a little different in Manhattan than it does in San Diego, and that you cannot shut the door to the manual elevator leading to the laundry room or it will lock everyone out (oops, sorry about that one!).  We’re also getting the hang of living in a doorman building, although at this point, I’m not sure how the doorman feels about us.  Since we’ve never lived in a doorman building, I had no idea that the phone next to our kitchen actually connects directly to the doorman.  When I thought I heard the phone ringing (it was really my cell phone), I picked up the phone.  My exchange with our Ukrainian doorman went something like this:

Doorman:  Hello?  Hello?  I can’t hear you.  Hello?

My thought bubble: Hmm, if I push the “key” button maybe that’ll work.  Okay, I’ll push it a few times.  Hello?  Hello?  Hmm, that’s not working.  I should press the “key” button a few more times.

Doorman:  No!  No!  No!  Stop pressing that button!  I can’t hear you!  Hold down the other button and talk.  You must hold down the button and then talk!

My thought bubble: Well that button has a picture of an alarm on it.  Who knows what might happen if I hit the alarm button.  So he must mean the “key” button.  I’ll press that a few more times.

Doorman:  NO NO NO!  Stop pushing that button!  Push the OTHER BUTTON!

Me: Hello?  Can you hear me?  I’m so sorry; I don’t know how to work this phone.  I just moved here and I’m still figuring things out!

Doorman: Hello, I can finally hear you.  What do you need?

Me: I don’t need anything!  I thought you called me?!

Dial tone . . .

NO NO NO!  Not the top button!