but when we got our food it was after dark.

*******

I’m a New Yorker.

And I hate lines.

So much that in the past, I’ve avoided going to the DMV and instead carried an expired license with me for years. (which is not good for air travel btw.)

Sometimes though I realize that I have to just suck it up and swallow my pride, preferably with a strawberry milk shake to help me.

Even though I’ve worked across the street from Madison Square Park for almost three years now and have watched people stand in the sun, rain, hot and cold, for burgers and wine, I couldn’t do it.

What could I be missing that even a website is devoted to now tracking the wait at The Shake Shack? (shackwatchers.com)

Being a New Yorker, I was curious about experiencing this cult-like phenomenon which made everyone from the culinary savvy to the stumbling tourist stand and wait and wait and wait.

I coudn’t take it anymore, so I got in line and waited too. (Over 45 minutes and counting.)

But once I experienced the delightful surprise of the Shake Shack shake, and the burger and fries. (I would have ordered more just to make the wait more worthwhile) I got it. With no long line regrets either.

And like other New Yorkers, I’d do it again. Even in the rain, or especially in the rain, if it means that the lines will be shorter next time.

Three months in NY and I start getting that urge to travel and escape and breathe fresh air again.

Two days away and I’m almost sure I must have missed something important in the city.

The best part of leaving though is when you get back and everything is just as busy and normal as you left it. And you know you haven’t really missed anything in the two days while you were away, except perhaps living in New York.

(Just in case for those of you not in the know, Grup = Grown Up Hipsters)

I read it. And it got on my nerves. Not sure why. Maybe because I live in Williamsburg. I listen to Bloc Party. And I take the L train to work every morning. But just because of that, I don’t think I would qualify as a Yindie, Yupster or a Grup.

I work long, long hours, take few vacations, don’t even hang out with enough musicans, but most of all, cringe at the thought of wanting to look or act like someone else.

This article just reminded me of everything I am against.

First the name-dropping of bands: Franz Ferdinand, New Pornographers, Death Cab for Cutie and Sufjan himself. Big deal. Music is music. Some are better than others (to the listener anyways), but because you go to the shows and listen to the music, it should not automatically make anyone an authority on being cool or hip or whatever it’s called lately.

And the spending of $400 on torn up jeans just to look like someone else down the block wearing the same torn up jeans? I don’t get it.

Uggh. Cry Me a River.

I thought New York was about creativity, individuality, even rebellion and non-conformity. My old vision of hip NY was of people living on the fringes of society, not accepting the status quo and creating something unique out of this urban maze of a city.

Really, it’s not about the music or the clothes or the hangouts that bothers me.

It’s the need to be defined and labeled, to feel accepted and belong in a society, so much to the point where ingenuity, inspiration and originality seems to be lacking.

I just want to go back to the days when being cool was cool. I don’t know. Call me an outcast, a rebel or simply old-fashioned, but please don’t call me a Grup.

NY: city of 8 million people, known for it’s rapid changes and constant motion. A city where people come into and out of our lives as fast as a New York minute through revolving doors.

Once in a while though, we find unseemingly un-related connections connecting us to one another all over again. And yes, I’m talking about the time before Friendster, well even after Friendster, as I don’t know anyone who does it anymore.

Take tonight for example.

I meet up with a former co-worker of mine and although our days started together on The Street almost five years ago, it wasn’t until recently we were reunited. His girlfriend of three years happened to work with my best-friend of many many years at the same publishing company.

One day at work, they both started talking about nightmarish bosses from hell, and that’s when both of them realized they were talking about the same boss on Wall Street that he and I once worked for together.

*Side note, this reminds me of my same coffee stand man who moved his cart from my previous employment around Penn Plaza to Wall Street some years later. Abu and I were happily reunited in our morning exchanges.*

A fellow NY Metroblogger and I both realized recently that her former co-worker at an environmental firm was also my roommate for one summer.

Not too long ago, I was talking to a guy who worked at TV cable channel and I asked if he knew someone who also was my roommate’s best friend. Not only did he know her, but she worked with him.

And the stories can go on and on of this happening all the time.

When it does happen, NY can feel like a small town sometimes.

I didn’t know it was even possible, but you can still get a haircut in Manhattan for under 5 bucks at this barber shop located on W. 26th Street and Eighth Avenue.

From what I remember, you can also get highlights and coloring for under $20 too.

With the hope and promise of eventual spring in the city, I’ve decided to try something different this season.

For starters, I could begin by walking dogs in the neighborhood as a volunteer at the local shelter in Williamsburg, BARC, on 253 Wythe Avenue (at North 1st Street). http://www.barcshelter.org/ .
It could double as an excuse to walk around my block and meet rather cute neighborhoodies once the weather warms up.

Also this year, if Spring hits me harder than it usually does, I could discover my inner showgirl and sign up for Burlesque dance lessons from the School of Shimmy with the Red Hots Burlesque group.

http://www.redhotsburlesque.com/

(a hidden talent?)

Finally, something that I don’t do enough, but would love to, would be to visit various open houses around the city and admire old and new New York architecture. It’s one of those love affairs I have with this City.

And I’m hoping it’s just the inspiration I need to get into spring.

During my productive ‘downtime’ at work, I was casually perusing Craigslist apartment listings and became so disenchanted and discouraged with some of the outrageous rents listed, I had to ask myself ‘Do I really know what I’m doing (in New York, I mean)’. Even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t afford a $3000/month 1 BR apt in Williamsburg or Manhattan even.

Mind you, I’m not even in the market for apartment hunting.

Last year, I had 3 possible apartments. One I lived in for 6 years with 2 other gal pals in Manhattan. It was rent-stabilized and cramped, yet some called it as good as winning the lottery.

The other, I signed with my younger sis who just moved to New York. I gave up the rent-stabilized palace for a 2 -bedroom apt in the UES.

The third, in Williamsburg, just happened. A good friend of mine wanted to relocate to San Francisco and had an extra room to rent here, while he chased sunsets there.

My sister had already packed my bags for me.

While searching for apartments, as I don’t have any anymore, but would one day like a place of my own, I realized in both jobs and homes (and maybe loves too) in this city, I just fell into it. Maybe by chance or by some random coincidence, but somehow things worked out okay in the end.

Then it hit me though, what if I was getting by just to get by, and what if New York doesn’t have a grand plan for me as I don’t have one for it.

It was a NY moment. A moment where I wondered to myself, how long can dreams last in this city before you wake up and give up?

Afer dinner with the sister, I picked up the rest of my sh–. (stuff), as our lease runs out now, and I dragged around a suitcase of my belongings on the 6 train to the L train to Bedford Ave in Brooklyn.

Bag in tow, memories attached, I looked around the subway car and saw a lone girl applying mascara in the train. That takes skills, I thought to myself and smiled. Then another gal aboards the same car in her cowboy boots and fishnet stockings –and I thought well now that’s just sheer determination in this weather.

Yet, I identified with both of these NY women. Despite all the obstacles and hardships we face: weather, mass transit, rats, we find a way to overcome them. Sometimes in stiletto heels too.

Perhaps, I don’t really know where I’m heading or what I’m doing in NY, but just being here in the city, riding that train and living in my favorite place, was enough for for me – even for a NY minute.

[One day off and I find out single (and/or not so single) men in NY are being auctioned off... (see Michael's post below for more details, ladies...) I forget how much you can miss in one day in NY.]

Meanwhile, wanting to see how the other half of the City lives, I wake up well after Noon today as opposed to my usual 7:30 am routine. Turned on my computer, but didn’t want to go near it as I didn’t have to. (This is how you miss out on things happening in your world.)

Had 2 cups of coffee leisurely, instead of inhaling it 5 minutes before running out the door – something I would do on a normal work day. Then, I decided to take a shower at 1 pm, the time most work people are picking up lunch to bring back to their desks. I know only because I’ve become one of those scary lunch types myself.

After a 35-minute shower, I made lunch and watched daytime TV. Sammie and Carrie on Days of Our Lives are still fighting over Austin. Lily is pregnant with Holden’s child (maybe?) on As the World Turns.

Bored with that, as I’ve seen it like 10 years ago, I decided to go to Macy’s and visit the makeup counter. (It’s free gift time at Estee Lauder!)

Shopping during the workday is whole new experience! No lines, no pushy customers, and what you need is actually in stock! And this was all at the H&M store in Herald’s Square.

I’m in love with this whole non 9-5 way of life. On the Manhattan-bound L train today, I looked around and realized I must not be the only one.

But, party’s over, it’s back to work tomorrow. The weekend’s 3 more days away, but then again who’s counting (besides me)?

Our test took us downtown to Chinatown, where we ended up at Banh Mi So 1 on Broome and Mott streets. While biting into the warm and crusty french baguette, I looked out the window and saw 2 members of The Strokes (the lead singer Julian Casablanca and another) walk past the restuarant.

I quickly grabbed my friend and my sandwich and ran outside for a fast picture. One block became three blocks, and before I knew it we were stalking them. The lead singer started to walk in a faster pace, moving his hand to cover his face every few seconds.

Standing at the corner, where I was finally ready to give up, I pulled out my camera phone and ‘pretended’ to take a picture of the street.

Not that anyone bought my lame attempt. That’s when it hit me, I became a celebrity stalker.

Damn the cold for getting to my head.

Even still, I had one of those randomly fun New York moments, following indie rocker boys, on a freezing cold Saturday afternoon.

-Watch 3 movies
-Finish off a bottle of wine
-Bake cookies
-Walk to the corner deli
-Take pictures
-Catch up with friends
-And get dress properly,only once.

For blizzardly conditions, I’ve enjoyed this pretty and relaxing weekend. Meaning: there’s less NY guilt about getting out, running around, and being productive.

However, the prospect of tomorrow morning’s commute scares me a little. Hope you’re all enjoying the snow!