Leaving the financial district

Today was my last day in 110 Greenwich street. I have moved to East village, which is a much more fun area. And the apartment is only a two minutes walk from the school.

But I am gonna miss the rooftop balcony.

Warehouse party in Brooklyn

I really don't know where to start. Last night I was at this party in an old brewery building. It was kind of crazy. I was suppose to go with a group of people that I've never met. I've been mailing one of them about a room that I was thinking of renting (actually I didn't really consider it, it was in New Jersey). Any way, he invited me to this party. They were really really delayed so I ended up going by my self. That was no problem, it was this kind of party which is fun regardless of who you go with. There were a lot of crazy dressers there. Fifty percent of people there had what's considered normal clothing. The other half looked like they came from a American Apparel commercial / Carnival freak show. There were this Aladdin character who was constantly making out with a women in a wedding dress. A woman (50 +) in turquoise spandex tights danced with a rubber snake. In one corner a man was shouting in a megaphone, he had made a stand where you could throw cakes at him. There were an Axel Rose look a like (Tokyo live, red hot pants). The first DJ wore nothing but a home made thong and many of the female bartenders had a very burlesque look. I had obviously picked out an outfit which suggested that I was a dealer. People approached me and asked if I was selling blow.

There were also shows around in the building. There were at one point three female acrobats dancing and doing stunts from fabrics hanging from the high ceiling over the dance floor. When they were finished, the music was turned down and a band started playing in the neighboring room. They played a punk Balkan mix. It was really fun, not the best musicians, but that didn't matter. Two girls walked around in front of the stage pouring tequila in/on people. Soaked in liquor I walked back to the main dance floor. A man was inside a balloon. He got out of it and went in to another. When his last balloon burst, an enormous amount of rose leafs started falling from the roof and the dance floor exploded.

I don't think the party had reached its climax when I left around 4:30am.

Party in Alphabet city

Last night I went to a party in Alphabet city. It is an area in East village from ave A through ave D. The party was hosted by J who is M's roomie, I think it was some kind of farewell party for a Spanish girl who lived there. J was a nice guy. I came quite late, people were already puking and passing out, and I was completely sober. But J took care of that he saw it that I had some thing to drink all the time. There were high hip hop and blunt factor at the party. The crowed was mainly put together of trendy Japanese people from Tokyo and some Spanish folks. As it got late and half the people there had capitulated, we went to a club at ave B. J was still concerned with me getting to their level of tipsiness and kept buying me Apple Jacks. It was a cool little club. Kind of dark, kind of trendy minimalistic, but worn out.

When I decided to go home, the sky opened up and the rain was pouring down tropical style. But I was in a good mood and danced my way home listening to MGMT.

Cherry Vanilla Pluss

In Norway I was always obsessed with trying new flavors on known brands. Like Vanilla Coke. It was great! But no one else seemed to like it. Only mister V and me would go through fire to keep that one on the market.

The States is heaven when it comes to strange flavored sodas. Some days ago, I had Coca Cola Pluss. It tastes pretty much like a diet coke, but it contains vitamins an minerals! I hope that people are smart enough to understand that this won't cover their daily needs. I also had a Dr. Pepper with vanilla and Cherry. When it was really cold it tasted just like marzipan. As it got warmer, the artificial cherry taste became more and more distinct. I'm really open and resistant to the strangeness, but yesterday I had capitulate. I tasted a root beer. Thats the most awful, disgusting soda I've ever tasted in my life!

Today I think I'll go for a Cream soda of some kind today.
I'm gonna be filled to the brim of carcinogenic substances when I come home.

NY Circle Line

Today I had my first meeting with Cooper Union Students. It was fun. Didn't meet any art students, only Engineer students, they really were sweet, but so young! They were all 18 and 19 years old. All freshmen. I'm seriously going to be the oldest student at school, Grandpa A. We went on a complementary cruise around the southern parts of Manhattan. We got to see the Statue of liberty and the new Olafur Eliasson installation "Waterfall".

There was a DJ on board the boat, playing all kinds of silly hits (inc. Rednex and Macarena!!!). And people were dancing unembarrassed. From a Scandinavian perspective, this was kind of awkward. But it was entertaining and really lightened the atmosphere.

Money to burn

I've gotten my money from the Norwegian Student Loan Funding, I'm really aching to spend them. I tried to be rational, and decided to go for some vintage shopping. I walked in 7th to 12th street between 1st and 3rd ave. It is suppose to be a lot of secondhand shops there. And it was, but none of them had any good selection for men. I walked down to Alice Underground on Broadway between Broome st and Prince st, But it wasn't there anymore . Really annoying! Alice underground was a really huge (I have read this) vintage shop with a good assortment of clothes. The designers Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana of D&G has been spotted there, looking for clothes to inspire their new collections.

Since I came here I've bought three pairs of purple socks. If you asked me why, I couldn't come up with a good answer. The problem is that I can't wear them with any of the pants I posses. I have to get some new ones. That was the actual goal for my search. But I had no luck.

I didn't acquire any vintage clothes today. But I did get a pair of Marc by Marc Jacobs jeans at Bloomingdale´s.

34 east, 7th street

Finally! I have permanent accommodation for the rest of my stay here in NYC. Me and L are going to be roomies.

Corner of Broadway and Prince Street

I've been to two really good stores (and loads of pretty good ones) so far. None of them are hidden jewels, but shops that most people here know about, but still. The UNIQLO flagship store on 546 Broadway is great. UNIQLO is a Japanese brand, I guess you could say it's American Apparels less sexy sister. It's the perfect place to obtain the base garments of your wardrobe.

The other good place is on the corner of the same block. It's Dean & DeLuca, it has nothing to do with the Norwegian convenience store chain Deli de Luca, except that the name is suspiciously similar. Dean & DeLuca is a super fresh upscale grocery store on 560 Broadway at Prince Street. I love food, and it always makes me happy to go into a quality store! Since I don't have a permanent place to stay, I couldn't be bothered to buy any of the goodies except a delicious ham and brie sandwich. Yummy!!

Thank god for Craigslist

On Thursday I got a bit of a scare. I suddenly realized that I hadn't booked a bed in the hostel for any longer, and I still didn't have a permanent place to stay. I got on to the web and to Hostels.com to reserve one. It turned out that I wasn't the only one who needed a bed the upcoming weekend or the coming week for that sake. The rooms were from 150,- dollar per night and up. And I'm not talking about ensuite singles. Anyway it might not be that expensive, but it's to much for my student budget, and I was looking at a at least nine nights stay.

I went on to craigslist.org. There you can find anything from bikes to sex-partners. It can actually be quite good entertaining reading the personals. I found a room who was available for a short term rent. It was announced for females only, but since my other alternative was sleeping in my suitcase in Central Park, I gave it a shot. I got the room. I'm now staying with a Russian girl in an apartment right next to ground zero. The picture above is taken from the rooftop balcony. In the lower left corner you can see the place where the second tower was.

4th street, Loisaida ave to 106th street, Central park west

I walked down 4th st. I had Just been looking at a room for rent. The street was completely transformed back to the 70-ties. It was NYPD Blue producer David Milch shooting (probably not him behind the camera) a new HBO series "Last of the ninth". It was fascinating walking down the street, all the actors in their 70-ties clothing, old cars parked along the street, blood on the pavement. I know a lot of the people living in the neighborhood don't like it. It's noisy, people can't get to their doors. They cant drive their cars there. And they've been shooting for days. I walked further up the street and got on the F-train on 2nd ave. There was a fat, hairy man standing in the carriage. His gray hair was long and he was wearing a Hawaii shirt with top three buttons open. He was wearing an advertisement sign. Brazilian waxing. He was wearing an ad for Brazilian waxing. If I was in a position were I was overweighing to get my privates waxed (and was a girl), I would under no circumstances get advise from this guy! Three young kids got on the train and had a dance show for a somewhat uninterested audience.

The train stoped at W 4th st. On the platform was a man in a wheel chair. He was very classy, I would guess, he was a typical city republican. His haircut simular to the one of Niles from the TV-series Fraisher (it was a bit fluffier). He had sand colored suit and sand colored leather gloves. But he wasn't a Republican. He had a huge Barack Obama button on his chest. He drove a bit forward, then he turned around 360 degrees and drove on. On the back rest of the chair was an inscription: Torture and secret prisons are illegal and un-American!

I boarded the C train going uptown. The metro here seems to go really fast, don't know if it's my imagination or if it actually moves faster than other metros I've been on. The wagons are shaking and the lights keep flickering. I'm impressed by one homeless (I guess he was) person, who probably spends a lot of his time on the sub. Every time the Metro stops or starts, I have to hold on to something not to loose my balance. He was rock steady the hole trip without holding on to something at all. The seaman of the city. I stand, kind of nonchalant, against the wall, reading, trying to blend in. It's actually working. Less people is approaching me to sell me counterfeit Chanel bags. Now they ask me for directions ( OK that is an exaggeration, but still).

I saw Neysa Malone on the train. I've never heard of her befor, and that's maybe not so strange. She had a bucket with cd's, a small amplifyer and a microphone with her. Her name and myspace address was written all over the bucket: http://www.myspace.com/neysamalone. She wasn't nearly as fresh in real life as she's on the web page. She looked really tired and sad.

I got of at W 110th street and walked down Columbus ave. I went in to one of the many corner Deli´s. I haven't been to many of these, but all of them seem to be very full of life, literary. There is a lot of attitude inside. Not in a scary way, More like the typical hollywood portrait of a bit large afro-American woman. Snap, Snap mm hmmm. There is a lot of friendly shouting. I got my self a Pastrama and grill cheese roll.

"Todays Addresses"
Pencil on napkin
2008

Overheard at the B train

Dark haired, high school student: ...you have to be careful at Starbucks toilets. They're like hobo showers...

Note taken.

The first day

Walking.
I think I've never walked as much as yesterday. I woke up really early, probably due to the jet lag. I ate the complimentary breakfast at the hostel I'm staying at (a cup of coffee and a bagel), and then I started walking. Starting at 106th st Central Park West, ending up at 26th st Broadway close to Madison Square Park. That's an 80 block walk! In NYC based TV-series you hear people complaining about a four block walk. I guess New Yorkers would think I was Stupid if I told them. Better keep this to my self.

On my way back to the hostel to rest I ended up taking the wrong metro. I was going to take the "A" train on local track (which I figured out only goes at night time), but took "A" train on express track. This means that there are no stops between 59th st and 125th st Lexington ave. That's in the middle of Harlem. I've heard that Harlem is quite safe now a days, but still I was a bit nervous. This being my first day. I don't know the codes here, I don't know how to behave. Both Lexington ave and 125th st is famous and historic. 125th st (also called Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard) is considered the main street of Harlem. Bill Clinton has an office here and is the location where Lou Reed buys heroin on the Velvet Underground's "I'm Waiting for the Man". Apollo theater is also here. There's an old man standing on 125th with a stick, which I luckily didn't meet, who is looking for white victims. When he sees them he starts pointing at old black and white photographies with his stick. The images is of the lynching of Afro-American men. He tries to get the the white man to admit that he's a racist.

I met a desperate looking man, apparently from Toronto. He looked like an older and more worn out version of Gary Oldmans Gordon character in the new Batman movie. He approached me, asking if I was a tourist (is it that obvious?). He started to tell me a long story about how he had planed to move to New York to be with his daughter (a 51 years old art student!), but now he had been robbed and wanted 20 dollar for his ticket home. I told him that I was in no position to help him. To be honest, I believe it was a cock and bull story! And that he was up to no good.

I decided to take the metro closer to home. On my way down to the metro platform a man suddenly put a ticket in my hand. I was confused. He told me that it was a 10 dollar card he didn't need anymore. I did understand at once that this was not the truth. But due to my confusion and a series of unfortunate events I ended up giving the man a 5 dollar bill. I didn't feel that I was in any position to argue with this 50cent look a like. I´m clearly a tourist here!

In the afternoon I went to Williamsburg, Brooklyn to look at a room I might want to rent. Williamsburg is something quite different from Lower Manhattan. It's quiet and cozy (at least the parts I saw) I think I could really enjoy to live there. The room was located only to stops on the L train from lower Manhattan. Anyway, I decided to walk back to Manhattan, crossing the Williamsburg bridge, to get another look at The New York skyline. The new york skyline is familiar. It's something you've seen so many times that you get some kind of relationship to it. It's like the Eiffel tower in Paris. When you see it you feel that you've been there before. This goes for a lot of places here in New York.

I ended the night at a little vine bar (somewhere close to little Italy). It was a nice place, a long bar. Almost everyone including me had brought their laptop, lined up like Chinese factory workers, surfing the internet and chatting away.

Eat! I forgot to eat Yesterday. I only had the breakfast bagel.

Breakfast at flight 201

Flight 201, 7:50 am, Copenhagen, Denmark - Keflavik, Iceland

The on-board breakfast was served in a small black box. At first sight it appeared to be fried potatoes with cheese and scrambled eggs. But as I dug in, to please my hunger, a thin slice of smoked ham, cut in the shape of the box reviled it self, as a mattress supporting the rest of the meal.

An eight hour wait at Keflavik airport wasn't as fun as expected. My plan was to go in to Reykjavik and spend my time there. But due to a really strict budget (and a rather expensive airport shuttle) and a 40 min bus ride in to the city I decided to just stay at the airport. Stupid choice. The airport was dead boring. A ghost-airport. Everything was closed, the corridors were empty (things actually changed as it got closer to departure time, but that didn't help). I usually love to be at airports. I love to look at all the travelers. It's similar to IKEA you find people from all stratas in society. I go in to a rich man state of mind. Spending money on expensive hand-creams and champagne in the Tax-free shop. Walking with a busy look on my face, a tall skimmed vanilla latte in one hand and my sand colored cabin bag in the other. I walk back and forth in the airport, really fast even though it's three hours until boarding. Keflavik didn't inspire to any strutting, not at all!

To compensate for my boredom I went outside the airport in hope of getting a glimpse of Icelands supposedly spectacular nature. I didn't expect to see a erupting geyser, but maybe a glimpse of a glacier or at least the silhouette of a volcano in the distant skyline to capture with my camera. The only thing I could see was gray. Thick gray fog. I don't think I could see further than 500 meters. It was flat, it was grass, concrete and asphalt. Silent and empty. Like a battlefield of the dark ages, at dawn, before the soldiers arrived. I had no hard time imagining a horde of crazy vikings coming running at me out of the fog. There was also a peculiar smell outside. It smelled like a newly lit barbecue, the smell of evaporating lighter fluid. I don't know where the smell came from, it might have been exhaust from the planes or maybe Iceland smells like this because of volcanic activity. It was cold as well, coming from summer temperatures, made this seem awful. Anyway it was depressing, everything was depressing. I understand that this has been the inspiration to pitch-black comedies like "Börn". I was very pleased that I wasn't going to stay here for long. Ok, I admit, I haven't done Iceland justice. I'm sure it's great if you just move further away than 20 meteres from the airport terminal.

From now on the trip was an absolute joy!

Flight FI 615, 5:00 pm, Keflavik, Iceland - JFK, New York

No entertainment and awful food, still, six hours just flew by (literary). I was so exited to get to New York. I had some quite entertaining reading. "Manhattan" by Torgrim Eggen. A guide to our contemporary cultural history. Light and interesting. It covers (at least the basic) of important New Yorkers, Manhattans architecture and history.

The first sight of a yellow cab. I was really there. It was a rush! I'm sure all of you, who have already been here, has felt it. As we zoomed trough Queens, there was a smell of doughnuts in the hot (27 degree C) summer air blowing in my face trough the open window. But the real kick came when crossing Williamsburg bridge, when the Manhattan skyline revealed it self for me. Thousands of lights, Empire state building, the Chrysler building. It maybe stupid, but it was great! We past upper east side with its famous museums. We drove through lower Harlem. A white van with no windows except in the front, and these where blackened drove by our side. I was sure that any second the van was going to bump into us and two men would drag me out of the cab and in to the van and speed away. That's what New York has been like for me (so far), everything I see, reminds me of a Hollywood movie. The houses, the firefighters, the smell (that couldn't really come from a film, but it smells like I imagine that it smells in Films located in NYC, it fits).

And finally I was there, 25 houres after waking up in Copenhagen, 36 West, 106th street, Manhattan.

Leaving

Saying good bye is never easy, It's a cliché, but still very true (at least when you say good bye to someone you really love).

When you have a life your ecstatic with and you're not sure if it'll be the same when you come back.

I'm not fan of long sad good byes. Crying is such a messy and uncontrolled action. I usually laugh instead. A chuckle, nervous and inappropriate.

The first entry

I'm on my way to New York. Five months in the city. Why NYC? What can I say, I've always wanted to go there. And it's one of the most important, if not the most important art scene in the world (being an art student makes that a valuable argument). So when I got the opportunity to go, how could I say no? This will be my first time in New York, in fact my first time in the US.

I don't know what I'll write about in this blog. I guess every (this is clearly an overstatement) aspect of my everyday, things I find more or less interesting. I'm not considered emotionally slutty, I tend to keep feelings and things I find private away from the public sphere. So it might happen that it'll be overweight of less interesting things (at least for you).

Time will show.