Salsa Dancing and Hip-Hopping Asians

On Saturday I decided that I was going to go ballroom dancing. I mean Latin/Ballroom dance is something I have been interested in for a while now so when I found out that NYU had a team that gives free Saturday afternoon lessons, I was all for it. My partners in crime—Veronica and Paula from across the hall, were otherwise occupied so I decided to embark on this little adventure on my own.

Finding the gym wasn’t too difficult. One of the main draws of living on 34^th street is that pretty much every line is somewhere around here so it’s a matter of finding what’s what and then going about your business. So anyway, I get off at the right stop exit the subway and go through my usual 30 seconds to a minute of staring at the street signs and having no idea which direction to go in. I call the gym, give the lady my cross streets and ask how to proceed.

Her: Um, *smacks bubble gum nonchalantly* we’re on Mercer Street.

Me: Yes, I know. I have the address, I just need to know how to get there from here.

Her: I think you’re only a few blocks away—maybe you should just ask someone on the street.

I’m generally against randomly asking New Yorkers for directions. It’s not that I think they’re rude (everyone has been pretty nice to me so far) but they always look so busy. Lol. That being said, I had no idea where I was going so I compromised and asked a food vendor selling hot dogs and pretzels on the corner.

Me: Which direction is Mercer Street?

Him: You are so beautiful. I have been watching you.

*SUUUUUUPER AWKWARD SILENCE*

Me: Um, oh, well, uh, so do you know where Mercer Street is?

He points me in the right direction and I make a hasty retreat. (I’ll take a moment to point out that recently it seems every time I’m getting hit on it’s by some old/awkward/creepy guy! What I wouldn’t give for some fine guy in my age bracket to say those same words—minus the “I’ve been watching you.”) Anyway, I made it to the gym safe and sound and the dance class was fun. We did an hour of beginning salsa and then an hour of swing. At the end of the class, this Asian girl I met came up to me and asked if I wanted to go to a hip hop class going on down the street.

Not stopping to consider the fact that I am extremely out of shape and four hours of dancing might not be the best idea ever, I said yea and we headed off. We get to the hip hop class and I’m lookin around like “ummmmm…” when all of a sudden this guy gets up and says “Welcome to the International Filipino Hip Hop Dance Association,” at which point I say to myself, “Thaaaaat explains why there are so many Asians here!” So yes ya’ll, I am now a part of an Asian hip hop dance crew and every time I think about it, I LMAO. But hey, this semester is all about trying new things and in LC Land, this is about as new as it gets. HAHA

P.S. Apparently four years of “dancing” (and I use that word loosely) in the club does not necessarily mean that you are prepared to learn a “hip hop” routine that involves a synchronized group on stage in front of an audience. Go figure.

FAFSA is tryna keep ya girl down!

Raine is constantly bemoaning the fact that I can't cook ergo, spend most of my life eating crap--otherwise known as the loop, midnight calls to dominos, grace's, alpine and the occasional Mickey D's when all else fails. Basically we have a pattern that is twenty years in the making: she complains about my dietary habits, I roll my eyes and assure her that I eat just fine, thank you very much. Well, if Raine could see me today, I am sure she would wave her finger at me, yell "aha!" and generally bask in that wonderful feeling of being right. It is almost 3:00 in the afternoon and so far today I have had one miniature can of Pringles, a piece of bread and a south beach diet 140 calorie cereal bar. All I have to say for myself is, at least the bread was whole wheat. This of course, would not satisfy mommy dearest in the least so thank goodness she doesn't know how to use the internet! lol

On the real tho, I love being in the middle of everything but have I mentioned lately that living la vida loca is EXPENSIVE and FAFSA clearly is on that "bare minimum" type mindset! And shoot, living in the heart of midtown, even the the necessities are coming at a premium. Three small cubes of watermelon at the corner store cost me $3.26. (After I left the store I def had one of those--"what the hell was I thinking moments.") My neutrogena face wash at the drugstore across the street, $8.99. One load of laundry (done by yours truly, no special services included) ran me almost $5. I'm trying to think like Visa right now but it remains to be seen how damn priceless have clean laundry and acne-free skin is going to turn out to be in the long run!

Which brings me to my latest conundrum... to eat or not to eat. Supposedly we can live for forty days and nights without water and it seems I will be testing this hypothesis soon enough since my refund check from Duke (aka. money to survive) is no where to be seen. Yikes! In other words, ya girl will have to get real creative on the survival front. Where is Julien when I need him? Where is Ade with his supposed new cooking skills? Shoot, where are the football players who so-graciously supplied me with all the food points a girl could need?!?! On the upside, I have been wanting to learn more about NYC street food for a while now. I mean the real stuff, not those suspicious looking hot dogs and dry ass pretzels on every corner. I've been reading up on some of the top-rated vendors in the city (from reputable papers like NY Mag, NY Times, etc.) And with prices under $6, they are speaking my language culturally and economically. In addition, I'll be adopting my London strategy for eating on the cheap: nice, big lunches. Cheaper than dinner by a long shot and if you go to the right places (I need to find the right places) there are portions big enough to stretch,

Anyway, I am on my way to a ballroom dancing class--another thing I have been waiting to try for the longest. I'll let you know how that and the pursuit of dinner goes! 

Hello New York

Most of you already know that I’m homeless…

Not in the traditional way, of course (at least not until Duke is done with me) but in the sense that after twenty odd years on this planet, I still don’t know how to answer the question, “So where are you from, again?” The best I usually come up with is a blank stare and a something about “moving around a lot” as a kid. Few people know that I was born in New York City and this is because with half of NYC nestled right there on Duke’s campus, even a simple claim such as being born in their home city is met with one of those “oh-this-girl-aint-really-from-the-city” eye rolls. Lol. That in addition to the fact that getting out of Durham for a semester was a necessity, meant that someone said “Duke in New York” and I said sign me up—don’t pass go. Do what you need to do. I’m there.

According to recent sources (Stafford) not showing up to Durham in August makes people question whether I did in fact live up to my word of either transferring to Central or selling my body on the streets (hey, after six hours in Perkins ANYTHING seems like a better life choice) but no, I am not doing either of these things. I opted for NYC over prostitution—altho if my funds start getting tight, I will look into making this trip a double venture! Lol

So far I have not been disappointed. Usually coming into the city means an extended stay at grandma’s house in Queens. Now, I’m usually all for home cooked meals 24/7 and someone else doing my laundry but I can’t complain about staying directly in the heart of things. The New Yorker is right across the street from Penn Station (which of course was fabulously convenient when I was trying to lug my 50 lbs suitcases through midtown). Walking into the hotel, I was greeted with marble flooring, huge glass chandeliers, and an, if not exactly polite, than at least informative security guard.

Educational Housing Services, the company who bought several floors of the hotel and transformed them into dorm like living def can not be hated on for their choice of locations. The threadbare carpets and miniscule closets are another matter but coming from last year living in Crowell with cracked ceilings and radio-active floor tiles (those of you who have been in my room know what I’m talking about), I certainly can’t complain. It seems Duke is trying to push me as far into that homeless category as $45K a year will allow. :-)

As for the program, I haven’t been here for quite two weeks but from what I can see thus far, I am lookin at one class a day (most people end up with this or one long day and a couple free days). My classes range from an hour and fifteen minutes to two and a half hours. I’m pretty sure my attention span has been shot since 8^th grade algebra but I’ll see how these marathon lectures end up working out. Lol. So far I’ve been to two shows, taken a road trip to DC and just generally survived 10 days as a small town girl in this big ass city.

The downside? I miss you guys! Even those of you who I haven’t had the chance to talk to as often as I would like. There is something everyday in the city that reminds me of one of my Dukies. Wall Street—Anneliza. Free Concert in the park—Ade. Alvin Ailey—Arielle. Flying Delta airlines—any and all of my lovelies from Lambda Omega. Tea cups—Stafford. The list goes on and on, so put me out of my misery and come visit! Lol. And until then, just keep reading!

So I decided to do this whole "blogging" thing...

Because what usually ends up happening is that I go off to a place (London, Arizona or even venture into the streets of Durham), tomfoolery ensues (ex. getting into a late night car chase and ending up locked in a closet... shoutout to Awa, Cadene, Olay and other guilty parties :-) and then I come home and tell my friends about it, usually via e-mail. But being in New York for a whole semester, there is a potential for a whole lot of foolishness and e-mailing everyone individually is more work than I am even willing to consider--especially given my history of generally not being able to keep in touch with one or more of ya'll at a time. (Yikes!)

So I decided to start this blog for all my girls (and fellas, if they are so inclined) to keep up with my life in New York. It seems like a good idea seeing as how I miss ya'll already and I'm sure there's gonna be plenty of stuff I want to share. Of course this won't replace (the already rare as hell) phone calls but hopefully you get my drift. This blog serves pretty much no purpose except to keep my favorite people in the loop with what's goin on with me.

Leave me lots of love! I miss you!