New York Realities

June 18th

It’s sometime past 6:30AM, and my sister wakes me with a soft knock on the dark wooden door.

Perhaps my reaction is a tad delayed in the fact that I am in fact going into New York city today, as I lie in bed for another five minutes or so, something I do when I’m at home and avoiding the moral call to get ready for work.

I shower with a bar of Aveda soap, and a travel-sized tube of St. Ives apricot scrub. It’s not until after I get out of the shower that I realize that I didn’t wash my armpits. The second round in the shower makes me confront my excitement for the day ahead.

I eat a bowl of multigrain cheerios in what is the immaculate kitchen of this Katonah, NY dream house. I’m a far cry from the still of Breakfast at Tiffany’s I have on my bedroom wall at home, but perhaps that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as I sip a coffee that seems a tad better than the one Miss Golightly holds.

We enter White Plains, NY and I’m greeted by the greatest mall in the area: Westchester Mall. It’s a Wednesday morning, and arriving upon opening brings me stares from the mall employees. I always hate the first customers of the day, too.

It’s a cornucopia of American stores: Gap, Banana Republic, American Eagle, American Apparel, Starbucks, Urban Outfitters. It’s like I’m home again.

Urban Outfitters ends up being my only place of success, which is something of a surprise to me, but perhaps my high-standards are somewhat lowered in the face of two-dollar Girls calendars and ten-dollar BDG hoodies.

In my two hours, I’ve tried on more clothes than I have in a whole year, across the mall. I never try things on, but in the spirit of killing time, I indulge myself.

I walk up to my sister’s hair salon, and arrive a tad early. I’m greeted by her colourist, who informs me that I must go to “The Village.” I nod my head like he has just told me the secret to happiness, but inside my head there’s not a whole lot going on. The only village I know of is this really try-hard section of Park Royal with a Whole Foods and a Tommy Bahama’s.

We drive into the city, and I try to capture moments of the George Washington bridge as we drive by it. Sadly, there’s a lot of dashboard in these shots.

Ultraviolence plays the whole way into the city, with “Brooklyn Baby” played on repeat a couple of times. I don’t think I’ll ever be this close to Brooklyn with the lyrics of Lana this fresh in my head.

The day seems like a dream.

We park somewhere in a garage somewhere down an avenue that is in the forties. I watch the silver Jeep go up a lift, before I enter the humidity and hostility that is the air of New York City.

If there’s something to be said about this city, it’s that it’s alive. There is life every single place you look, there are people every single place you look. I can’t stop looking around as we dart through the people, only stopping when the light is truly red. It’s lunch time now, and the line-ups for food trucks are as big as they seem on The Food Network. My mind is on so many things, except where our end point could be.

Stop. We’re going the wrong way.

Turn around, dart faster, faster.

Dang, I am never doing NYC with a triathlon runner again, I think.

She darts into a building about five minutes later, and I chase after her striped dress, the door almost hitting me on the way in.

We’re at a show. The show has just started, but they still give us tickets. We rush up flights of stairs to our seats. It all starts to hit me that this is all really happening, and I’m about to see Michael C. Hall, Toni Collette, and Marisa Tomei in about thirty seconds. My sister remembered me briefly mentioning it, and totally surprised me! The show, The Realistic Joneses, takes just over an hour, critiquing human socialization, with a dark comedic edge.

It was one of the coolest shows I’ve seen, mostly because I haven’t watched anything like it before.

We’re ushered down the opposite spiral staircase to the street, and I sheepishly sneak my way back in to find a ‘restroom’ as the American’s call it.

—

We wander through Times Square, and I’m greeted by what is the biggest H&M I have ever seen, and a Gap that had a lot of the same stuff that my store had at home (ah, corporations.)

—

By this time, we’re reminded that our last substance was a package of mini-biscotti-esque cookies, and a lukewarm bottle of water.

We head to an area called Hell’s Kitchen, and head into a place called Mercato, as recommended by her colourist. It’s all very hip, and cute, with some patrons fawning over the World Cup near the bar. I don’t really taste the food as I shovel it down, but perhaps the point of this meal is the presence of my sister’s smile across the table from me.

—

We head towards Greenwich Village, taking the Subway. It’s a far-cry from the Canada Line, as their turnstiles actually work. Getting off near NYU, we walk to the Village, which falls short of the shopping I was promised. I see various stalls with vendors, a Chipotle, and a schwack of piercing places on the same block. Although tempting to add to my body mods while I’m away, I decide to save a sweet sixteen-esque, impulse piercing for another day.

We head for SoHo, walking by cool stores like Rag & Bone, and Brooklyn Industries on the way. In SoHo, I’m greeted by familiar stores like Zara, and Converse. Dean & DeLuca catches my eye, and I’m reminded of that moment in The Devil Wears Prada where they name-drop D&D for their pricetag of almost $8 per strawberry.

—

We subway back to somewhere near the forty-something avenue where the Jeep is, as it’s starting to hit dusk, and we’re both tired.

It’s been quite the day for me, walking through this city of dreams and dashed stars. I get to play Lana in the dark, as my sister drives back up-state.

You’re crazy for me, croons Lana in the outro to “Cruel World,” and honestly that couldn’t sum up my feelings for this city more. I am crazy for it.

—

I say a quick goodnight to my sister, and brother-in-law, once we arrive, and hear the echo of my patter on the hardwood, as I walk to my room.

I shut the dark hardwood door softly and wince in pain for a moment, as I look down at my right foot.

A small blister has decided to emerge on my pinkie toe after the day’s events.

There it is: my crown.

Derrick Gravener: Honorary New Yorker, for a day.

Course Selection Season A.K.A Ultraviolence

Much like the beautiful and tragic new Lana Del Rey album, we are greeted by something also equally beautiful and tragic: Course Selection Season.

It’s the thing that keeps you up at night, wondering if you’ve been good enough all year to not get a schedule full of coal. You can’t sleep the night before. You hold your stuffed alligator or what have you close to you at night, and let out a childish wimper, as this is something even your respective parent can’t fix for you.

Here’s some tips for making it through it:

1. Food

Rule #1 to any conflict in my life always revolves around food.

For course selection, might I suggest a handful of trail mix, or some camomile tea. Let’s aim for something calming. We all know that your Sociology discussion is probably going to fill up about fifteen minutes before your scheduled registration time, and spilt tea is a lot easier to clean up then like a two-six of Dr. Pepper.

2. Multiple Worklists

I’m going to say it again for everyone’s benefit: MULTIPLE

Keep a sheet of what courses you really need. The key is to register as fast as possible. I’m not saying course selection is like a race, but I’m also not, not saying that. You feel me?

3. The Worklist May NOT Match Your Registered Courses

Remember that if you don’t get everything on your worklist, and you end up frantically adding something else, it will only pop-up on your “registered courses” and not your worklist.

Make sure you make a final worklist of your registered courses, as to save yourself some confusion in the future. Seriously, trust me. I’m freaked out too many times when I thought that two courses were overlapping in term two.

4. Advising is Always (ok, almost always) There for You

Call your faculty’s advising line, or shoot them an email if you run into something major.

If you don’t know who to go to, talk to your Enrolment Services Professional (ESP. They know what’s up, and who to holler at. (Shoutout to Cara Low for being an awesome ESP!!!)

5. Profs are USUALLY Pretty Cool

What I mean by this is they are like usually really approachable over e-mail or something. Sometimes not, sometimes they don’t email you back, but like this is one of those YOLO moments. Sometimes they even let you into their class even though it’s technically full. (Thanks, Dr. Oh!)

6. Waitlists Happen

Don’t be scared off by the waitlist! Go sign up for it if you REALLY want that course.

7. Check the SSC a BUNCH during first week

People drop out of a lot of courses during first week. If you STILL want that course, go check for it during first week. It could save a whole lot of paperwork for you and your faculty’s advising department!

8. Go Online (At Least) An Hour Before

See if any of your courses are already full, and shift your schedule around a little bit earlier. This will save you a ton of stress, hopefully.

—

And finally…

New York Dreams

Sunday

It’s 12:38AM, and I lie here listening to the sound of a party in the distance. The bass is somewhat absent in what is the neighbour’s son’s College graduation party. People’s taste in party music has always been fascinating to me. It’s weird being alone in the basement of an Upstate New York house, on a mattress. A few days previously I was stressing about my final Creative Writing 200 assignment, and the state of my personal life. I lie here knowing that the end of the summer term left me more alone than I had originally thought.

Loneliness is a fear I have. Why? Because most of the time I think too much, and before you know it, I wake up having a panic attack. Sometimes my dreams are not too kind to me, but we can’t blame them for telling me things that I am too afraid to admit to myself.

I thought this trip thousands of miles away from everything would be like a trip to rehab, to be perfectly honest. I expected to go to a place with no internet, just the company of a pool and the scorching sun. Perhaps rehab is a hyperbolic comparison, but who doesn’t like a good hyperbole?

My brain was making all kinds of situations up, probably to distract myself from the fact that this would be the first time I flew alone. My journey to the New York/Newark airport was memorable for sure, thanks to my connection in Chicago at the Orly Airport.

Chicago Sunrise

I had the pleasure of being on a red-eye out of Vancouver. I trapped myself next to the window and fell asleep after I found out that the $9.00 internet did not let me watch Netflix [sigh]. We landed at 5:00AM Chicago time, which is about 3:00AM Vancouver time. As groggy as I was, I managed to get myself through Customs, and on to the train which would take me to the terminal where my connecting flight was. Once there, I discovered that my 1.5 hour wait for my flight had become a 3.5 hour wait. I trudged to the Starbucks nearest to my gate and drowned myself in a caramel macchiato. No one at my gate seemed too happy due to the delay, so I decided to go sit with people flying to Denver. Sitting with people who weren’t mad at United Airlines really helped my psyche — that, and the caffeine I had just ingested.

I slept all but fifteen minutes of my flight from Chicago to Newark, and woke up feeling human again.

The sight of my mother in the arrivals terminal brought tears to my eyes. I think the only thing I really didn’t like about flying alone was not having a shoulder to sleep on during the flight.

I lie here, in this cool basement, surrounded by my family. Not directly surrounding me, but they lie only two floors above me. It’s comforting.

—

There are moments that have happened today that I will never be able to recreate:

-When the navigator steered my mom and I in the wrong direction and we ended up knee-deep in the Bronx, for instance. The entrance of the area so congested, and humid that there were men selling bottles of water to the people stuck in Saturday traffic.

-The look on my father’s face as I snuck up behind him, and yelled ‘SURPRISE!’ He had no idea I was coming out to see him for Father’s Day.

-Winding down the night with the company of my extended family surrounding me, as they laughed at how I held a pool cue.

All of that makes the fear that I had seem so unnecessary. Sure, there will be hours alone while I’m here, but everyone is only an iMessage or a Snapchat away.

I lie here alone, trying not to drift away in my thoughts of what could’ve been my past summer term. I’m trying to dream up what I want to do when we go into the city, instead. I still don’t know, there are so many options. Instead, I listen in again to the faint guitar in the distance, at the graduation party, and I realize that facing the loneliness is not as scary as I thought it would’ve been.

Learning

hallo.

welcome back to the possibility wasteland. holla.

—

whoa i finished first year.. ssssssssssshhhhoooooooooooooot

Seriously, that’s basically me… ^^

Transit + Other Drugs

It’s been a crazy year, yo. Like, I can still remember my first days on campus, being woken up on the bus by some other student. And like, now I can basically wake myself up on the bus. T A L E N T.

um. what else. i don’t recommend catching the 4 late at night. take the 99 because it comes more often, and then take the skytrain because the broadway-city hall station is really close to a Whole Foods open ’till 10PM and a Save-on-Foods open ’till 11PM. seriously, late night snacking ftw. ALSO MCDONALDS OPEN 24HRS there.

personal tip is try to get to school before like the huge rush (8:30-9AM??) cause then like you can get Starbz in the SUB or something without a grande line-up.

erm what else idk. learn to sleep on buses, but don’t fall asleep on other people because then people write things about students that aren’t very cooool.

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Food

seriously i spent hella money on food this year and like pro-tip would be to bring it from home, or find someone that you kinda sorta look like and steal their meal plan, (pref. varsity plan) no srsly. kidding.

stealing is bad, tho.

but like there’s no such thing as a bad sandwich. (mhm. dont quote me on that. perhaps my sandwich game is just really stong.)

also:

-subway is mreh. dont go expecting anything amazing. they are not made with love.

-the salad bar is pretty overpriced.

-the deli knows what’s up

-the burger bar is pre sketch. like sometimes they don’t cook the chicken all the way. i saw it. the fries are aiight.

-bernoulli’s is what dreams are made of. cinnamon cream cheese on a chocochoco chip bagel. WORD.

-Vanier’s has rlly good pasta and like the wraps are good, albeit, overpriced. don’t be afraid to go and check it out, even if you’re a commuter or don’t even go to ubc. we know who you are.

-venturing into the village never killed anyone, and like that place down the stairs, by the McD’s has some really stellar options for cheap Chinese food after like 5PM.

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Bookz

the bookstore hates you and does not have your best interests at heart.

might i suggest doing some research before hand and trying to buy it off a student a la UBC Textbooks for Sale – Facebook Group??

Maybe buy it off Amazon?

Maybe go to that place in the village that claims to be cheaper idk.

BUT LIKE MAYBE ALSO DO YOUR RESEARCH SO THAT YOU BUY THE RIGHT ONE IF U TAKE MEASURES INTO YOUR OWN HANDS.

AND THEN YOU WONT BE OUT 30$ BECAUSE SOME CHICK SCAMS YOU FOR HER GERMAN 100 BOOK WHICH IS ACTUALLY NOT EVEN GOOD FOR REALLY ANYTHING. (im not bitter at all.)

Sanity and Goals and Self-Worth

YEAAAAAAAAH idk.

All I can really say on this topic is try to prioritize, and time manage as best you can, and get all your assignments in on time.

Pro tip # deux is surround yourself with cool people who motivate you, and think you’re hot apple pie, because there are days when you will feel like you are leftover fruit loops in the box, outside the bag, that someone forgot about.

you cannot do this alone.

try to get involved, and get outside, and get a reasonable amount of sleep, and dont drink too much coffee.

i know i sound like a really concerned parent raining on a parade of college freedom, but seriously your mental health is gonna take a really bad turn if you go on some sort of no sleep, full-sugar bender.

self-worth: find something you love and hold on tight to it, because there is going to be so much other stuff flying at you during the year, you may lose sight of it. whatever happens, don’t forget to look down at what you decided to hold on to for yourself.

goals: pfft those are for second year. pFFFFFFFFT.
no seriously, set realistic goals, and be prepared to make sacrifices.

Concluding Statements:

first year was pretty rad for me, but i certainly had some tough times.

i’d like to thank my family, and my social circle for providing food, and emotion support. y’all are like a river rock and you catch me when i’ve gone down the creek a little too far.

title for this blog was inspired by this:

more to come on first year advice. i got some stories, yo.

shoutout to all the peeps who got admitted to ubc, and all the peeps that start summer courses this week (me, holla). it’s gonna be CRAAAAAAAY. RAISE THE ROOF. FLASH THE PEOPLE DOING CONSTRUCTI– ok never mind, that was a tangent. this isn’t freakin’ Spring Breakers.

k byeee~

Day-Old Moonshine

Category Archives: i blinked and it was over

New York Realities

Course Selection Season A.K.A Ultraviolence

New York Dreams

Learning