And so orientation begins! Kind of. The roomie has about four feet of unbraided, undreadlocked, unstraightened African-American hair, so that's going to take about an hour to get washed -- but until then, updates on the Suit Search. Anyone who's worried about the CDN/USD exchange rate needs to check out Century 21 by the WTC. I was sorely tempted to start trying on $300 Armani and D&G suits yesterday, but couldn't go through the hassle of getting someone to unlock them for me. Did try on a few nice Taharis, though.
I bit the bullet last night and went to a "jazz" club across the street with the roomie, which turned out to be a groove/funk/r&b joint (she's obviously not to clear about music genres) with excruciatingly bad drinks and a curious band that played an opening half hour of very boring electronic funk before getting into Michael Jackson, Prince, and John Denver (?!) groove remixes. (No joke on the drinks -- I don't drink often, but I don't think a Long Island Iced Tea should taste like gin with ice cubes and cost $10 USD.) It was a good reminder as to why I a) never go out; and b) need to buy earplugs (or at least ear filters).
And because there's really nowhere else that's safe to vent to about the roomie, here goes: she thinks my entire family is complacent! She doesn't understand why we would make each other tea if someone wants it, or how we could spend 4 hours indoors in New York (while it was raining out), or why we keep gravitating back to Chinese restaurants (all different, mind you). Argh! I wasn't planning on have to defend my way of life this early, or this constantly. I honestly don't see the problem -- we enjoy each other's company, have a good time, and really needed to get out of the heat. Maybe having a diet consisting 60% of Froot Loops and 40% of overpriced gourmet meals does something to one's cultural sensitivity.
Here's the silver lining about last night, though; the club might have been torture on the ears (and the drink on the stomach lining), but the walk through the Village afterwards was fascinating. People from the entire city descend on Greenwich Village near the end of the week, and almost every store here is a club/restaurant designed to take advantage of the late-night crowd. Not my scene, mostly, but amazing nonetheless -- it was interesting watching middle-aged tourists and backpackers mingle with students and locals, all while tring hard not to choke on their drinks.
Final note: my parents have now found a favourite Chinese restaurant down the block, and have gone so far as to ask the waiter and owner to "take care of me" after they leave. We got free dessert for the last two nights running. I don't know how they do it, but I love them.
I bit the bullet last night and went to a "jazz" club across the street with the roomie, which turned out to be a groove/funk/r&b joint (she's obviously not to clear about music genres) with excruciatingly bad drinks and a curious band that played an opening half hour of very boring electronic funk before getting into Michael Jackson, Prince, and John Denver (?!) groove remixes. (No joke on the drinks -- I don't drink often, but I don't think a Long Island Iced Tea should taste like gin with ice cubes and cost $10 USD.) It was a good reminder as to why I a) never go out; and b) need to buy earplugs (or at least ear filters).
And because there's really nowhere else that's safe to vent to about the roomie, here goes: she thinks my entire family is complacent! She doesn't understand why we would make each other tea if someone wants it, or how we could spend 4 hours indoors in New York (while it was raining out), or why we keep gravitating back to Chinese restaurants (all different, mind you). Argh! I wasn't planning on have to defend my way of life this early, or this constantly. I honestly don't see the problem -- we enjoy each other's company, have a good time, and really needed to get out of the heat. Maybe having a diet consisting 60% of Froot Loops and 40% of overpriced gourmet meals does something to one's cultural sensitivity.
Here's the silver lining about last night, though; the club might have been torture on the ears (and the drink on the stomach lining), but the walk through the Village afterwards was fascinating. People from the entire city descend on Greenwich Village near the end of the week, and almost every store here is a club/restaurant designed to take advantage of the late-night crowd. Not my scene, mostly, but amazing nonetheless -- it was interesting watching middle-aged tourists and backpackers mingle with students and locals, all while tring hard not to choke on their drinks.
Final note: my parents have now found a favourite Chinese restaurant down the block, and have gone so far as to ask the waiter and owner to "take care of me" after they leave. We got free dessert for the last two nights running. I don't know how they do it, but I love them.
