Ghetto Sorority

This morning, I was on my way to Penn Station and a group of loud, obnoxious women go on. They were so rowdy it was like being in a hellish ghetto sorority. I could hear their cackling clearly over my music, which was at max volume. I was so focused on blocking them out, I almost didn’t notice that the woman dressed head to toe in pink was a man in drag. That’s when I realized today was the Pride Parade. I had wanted to go with my friends to show my support for them, but I completely forgot it was this weekend. I was just glad I wouldn’t be stuck anywhere else near the ghetto sorority girls, who were apparently going to the parade.

Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.

~Izzy

Worst of NYC: Late night and weekend train service

I can completely relate to this post. It’s probably why I never partied as much as I wanted to.

Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.
~Izzy

Da UNDERCARD

 

New York is the City that never sleeps…ever. It is a 24/7 365 grinding machine made of flesh and metal. You can go out literally at any hour of the day and find someone or even groups of people out on the street, so it’s no wonder that we have 24/7 public transportation available. But in n massive place like NYC, things fall apart…and fast; it is for this reason that the Metropolitan Transportation Authority or MTA has a dedicated crew to do evening maintenance.

Now you’re probably thinking this is good right? Well, you are correct; however because this is the City that never, sleeps, it has a thriving nightlife, especially on the weekends; the time when the service is the slowest. I introduce to you: Worst of NYC: Late night and weekend train service.

If you’re a native New Yorker, you know finding a parking spot is…

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Photos & Books: Two of My Favorite Things

This post is about a website with pictures of commuters reading on the NYC subway. I love to read, and do it every now and then during my own commute. Whether it’s a physical book, on my iPhone, or on my iPad, it’s an enjoyable way to pass the time until you reach your destination. I just hate when people read over my shoulder…

Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.

~Izzy

Librarian in the Making.

I adore this website. I love books and I love photography.

It’s called “Underground New York Public Library”.  From the About page:

“The Underground New York Public Library is a photo series featuring the Reading-Riders of the NYC subways. The photos come together as a visual library. This library freely lends out a reminder that we’re capable of traveling to great depths within ourselves and as a whole.  I’m Ourit Ben-Haim. I make the pictures and the posts. I’m fascinated by how we apply ourselves to stories and discourse. In so doing, we shape who we understand ourselves to be.”

http://undergroundnewyorkpubliclibrary.com

Do check it out.  I hope you will find it as intersting as I do. 🙂

subway riders

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A good start to Friday

I decided to reblog this post, since it pertains to mine. Look forward to other relevant “reblogs”.
Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.

~Izzy

soozeinthecity

Commuting on the NYC subway usually produces a scowl from the passengers – delayed trains, crowded conditions, loud tourists. But this morning I had a smile on my face. Why? The woman next to me sat down and pulled her knitting out. Grey wool yarn, green locking stitch marker, Addi needles and a black KnowKnits project bag. And she could knit without looking at her work.

Don’t worry I wasn’t stalking her – since I work in a yarn store I can identify her knitting stuff fairly quickly. And she helped her concentration by listening to her music. I loved it, loved it enough to write about it and not take out my own knitting 🙂

Happy Friday!!

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2 Train Frustrations

On Sunday, I went to get cupcakes to celebrate my mother’s belated birthday. The trip going there wasn’t bad. I got a seat, there were no funky smells, no obnoxious people, or any crazies. However going home was almost epic.

When I got to the platform, it was packed, which is never a good omen. Sure enough, the countdown clock showed arrival times of over 10 minutes for the uptown 1/2/3 trains. Of course, the 2 train had the worst arrival times, with one 1 train and two 3 trains arriving before. I did manage to get a seat on the bench by my usual spot, which I was grateful for since I was carrying the bag with the boxed up cupcakes. The estimated 1 & 3 trains arrived and weren’t as packed as I thought they would be. The 2 train, however, was bursting at the seams. Even if there had been enough space for me, I wasn’t going to risk ruining my mother’s birthday cupcakes. I was forced to let that train go and wait for the next one, estimated to arrive in 16 minutes.

Since I got my bench seat back, I just sucked it up and tried to be patient. More 1 & 3 trains passed, none too packed. Finally the 2 train arrived…packed like a hoarder’s closet! That’s when I got really frustrated and decided I might as well take the next 1 train to Washington Heights (where I grew up) and transfer to the BX 35 bus, which leaves me a block away from my apartment. It would be a longer ride, but I had already spent too much time waiting for a 2 train I could ride in comfortably without ruining the cupcakes I had in tow. Even with all the delays, I made it home before my parents came from closing their grocery store. They close earlier on Sundays, so I was worried they would be home before me. And everyone enjoyed the cupcakes 🙂

Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.
~Izzy

Disabled, But Smiling

Yesterday, I was on my way downtown on the 2 train. When I got on, there was a young man standing by the door. As I sat down, practically in front of him (unintentionally, of course), I noticed him looking at me with a goofy grin. At first I thought he was being a creep & trying to look down my tank top (it was HOT outside). But after a few minutes, I realized he wasn’t smiling at me. He had some form of mental disability. He was in his own little world, making sounds like the humming of a song, occasionally taking a sip from his water bottle, and smiling. Thinking about the simplicity of his being, I couldn’t help but smile myself.

Feel free to post comments or share similar experiences, whether in NYC or elsewhere.
~Izzy