The New York Public Library has 86 branches. A great resource, I figured, since I'm not in school and have time to read on the subway every day.
The first day I was here, I started applying for a card online. Turns out it takes up to a month to process, so I figured I'd go in to the branch a few blocks from my apartment and apply for one there.
On Monday, I got home around 9 and the library had closed at 8.
On Tuesday, I got home around 7, but the library had closed at 5.
On Wednesday, I lost track of time and suddenly it was 8 and the library was closed.
On Thursday and Friday, the library closed at 5.
On Saturday, I walked over to the library in the early afternoon, excited that I finally had a chance to get over there. I pulled on the door and it didn't open. A sign on the door said that it was closed all weekend for Memorial Day.
On Sunday and Monday, the library was closed.
Today, the library opened at 10. I decided I'd go into work a little late so I could swing by and finally apply for my card.
The librarian said that I needed a photo ID and something with my current address on it like a bill or paycheck.
I haven't gotten a Starbucks paycheck yet and my internship is unpaid.
I went home and applied for a library card online.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Why Starbucks is the Greatest Company on Earth and Times Square Tourists are Morons
Benefits I get from working at Starbucks:
1. Free drinks at the store where I work
2. 30% off everything else (including at other stores)
3. One free pound of coffee per week
4. Vacation days that accumulate based on hours worked
5. Health, dental, and optical coverage for $9/week after 90 days
6. 401K and stock options after a year
7. An employee assistance hotline that can hook me up with a psychologist, lawyer, etc. and pay for some of the expenses
8. A fund to help employees in time of need, such as being behind on rent
Plus as part of my training I have to taste test all the varieties of coffee and tea. Which is fabulous.
I decided to get the ball rolling on this whole making music thing and find myself a voice teacher. Some of the ones I've found have ridiculous prices (such as $46 for HALF AN HOUR) but I found some that were pretty reasonable and decided to meet with them. The first lesson was at noon at the teacher's house in Astoria, resulting in my first and probably last trip to Queens. Queens feels like a dirty suburb compared to Manhattan, and while the teacher was cute, knowledgeable and helpful, something about her rubbed me the wrong way.
The second lesson was at a rehearsal space near Times Square. Pedestrian traffic in this area is absolutely awful. Because it was Saturday, it was almost entirely populated by tourists who decided to make fools of themselves. The pointing and picture-taking is to be expected, but they act like cattle. At one point there was some traffic backed up by a crosswalk, and though we didn't have a "Walk" sign, people just kept running across the road because they saw other people do it, and then got angry with the backed cars for trying to get out of the intersections. I wanted to punch them.
Anyway I got along with the second teacher better but I'm not sure she was helpful. I have several other possibilities but this one is probably the cheapest so I'm not sure what I'll end up doing.
1. Free drinks at the store where I work
2. 30% off everything else (including at other stores)
3. One free pound of coffee per week
4. Vacation days that accumulate based on hours worked
5. Health, dental, and optical coverage for $9/week after 90 days
6. 401K and stock options after a year
7. An employee assistance hotline that can hook me up with a psychologist, lawyer, etc. and pay for some of the expenses
8. A fund to help employees in time of need, such as being behind on rent
Plus as part of my training I have to taste test all the varieties of coffee and tea. Which is fabulous.
I decided to get the ball rolling on this whole making music thing and find myself a voice teacher. Some of the ones I've found have ridiculous prices (such as $46 for HALF AN HOUR) but I found some that were pretty reasonable and decided to meet with them. The first lesson was at noon at the teacher's house in Astoria, resulting in my first and probably last trip to Queens. Queens feels like a dirty suburb compared to Manhattan, and while the teacher was cute, knowledgeable and helpful, something about her rubbed me the wrong way.
The second lesson was at a rehearsal space near Times Square. Pedestrian traffic in this area is absolutely awful. Because it was Saturday, it was almost entirely populated by tourists who decided to make fools of themselves. The pointing and picture-taking is to be expected, but they act like cattle. At one point there was some traffic backed up by a crosswalk, and though we didn't have a "Walk" sign, people just kept running across the road because they saw other people do it, and then got angry with the backed cars for trying to get out of the intersections. I wanted to punch them.
Anyway I got along with the second teacher better but I'm not sure she was helpful. I have several other possibilities but this one is probably the cheapest so I'm not sure what I'll end up doing.
Friday, May 22, 2009
No hablo español
I am white and I don't speak Spanish. Therefore I am a minority in Washington Heights.
It has some advantages though. For example, when men try to pick me up on the street near where I live, I can't understand what they're saying and can walk on by none the wiser. When I'm in Chelsea, men hit on me in English. It's not rude -- mostly just a sing-songy "Hello, gorgeous. How ya doin', beautiful?" -- but I could still do without it. Hence the appeal of the Washington Heights language barrier.
It has some advantages though. For example, when men try to pick me up on the street near where I live, I can't understand what they're saying and can walk on by none the wiser. When I'm in Chelsea, men hit on me in English. It's not rude -- mostly just a sing-songy "Hello, gorgeous. How ya doin', beautiful?" -- but I could still do without it. Hence the appeal of the Washington Heights language barrier.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Day 4 in NYC: The 7-story Macy's has 4 Starbucks
I just got home 20 minutes ago. Long day, yes, but the past few days when I've gotten home at 8 or 9 I can hardly keep my eyes open. Right now I feel relatively energetic. Time to write.
This morning I woke up at 6:30 am -- I hadn't pulled my curtain all the way across my window and the sun was shining right in my eyes -- to the symphony of car horns that is constantly playing in New York City. (You know the canned sound of cars honking that they play in New York movies? Yeah, it's real.) Normally this would be an unfortunate occurrence, but I jumped on the opportunity to take a shower before one of my three roommates could grab it (usually I have to wait around at least 30 minutes to get in, making myself late in the process). Sadly, I felt accomplished. Then I got to sleep until 8:15 -- 8:15!
(Ah! My eyelids are drooping ... it's only 9:27 ... must stay awake ...)
Job Interview #2 was at 10 am. It was more of a screening, so it lasted about 10 minutes. Short and sweet. I got to my next interview 40 minutes early so I wandered around Borders and read "Wine for Dummies." (Did you know that white wines contain more sulfites than other wines?)
Job Interview #3 was at Starbucks by Penn Station. It took 15 minutes for the manager to be able to talk to me -- all NYC Starbucks are constantly busy. She offered me a drink, went over my application, and since she didn't have open positions anymore, sent me down the street to Macy's (yes, the seven-story Macy's).
I wandered to the Starbucks on the second floor of Macy's, getting offered at least ten fragrance samples along the way, and met with the general manager. He asked me a series of questions and then put me through the standard Starbucks exam, asking me to recall specific examples of work-related incidents so insignificant that my brain had chosen to forget them. At the end of it all, he said he wanted to hire me, and that I'd start training on Friday. $8.75/hour to start, $9.63 after 6 months, $8/week health insurance after 90 days, 10 blocks from my internship. Woohoo. Job search done.
[I find it amusing how everyone says I'm "taking a big leap" moving here, or that I need to be careful living in a big city, or that they're so amazed about how brave I am. To me, this whole thing seems perfectly natural. I feel like I've been living in this concrete land of hustle-and-bustle all my life.]
Ran off to my internship, where Barbara (who's in charge of tour marketing and with whom I have been working) had me make up a street team package (12 posters, a CD, 30 postcards and a set of labels). She had nothing else for me, so I asked Steve the intern coordinator for some work ... and was busy with it for the rest of the day. Initially I was looking up concert ticket sites for Guggenheim Grotto and Enter the Haggis, putting those sites in the database and making sure they were on the artists' myspace pages. Next I made up a promo package for Barbara to take to the Maiysha show tonight (while listening to Barbara console a sick Maiysha over the phone and offer to buy her all sorts of cold medicines). Then I started researching Celtic/Irish/Scottish societies to promote the Enter the Haggis shows to (while listening in to a conference call between Enter the Haggis and an internet marketing guru). In the middle of all this, Peter (the president) called me into his office thinking I was a graphic designer and asked me to make changes to the UFO and Invasion Group websites that were way beyond my skill level. (I'd go home and learn Flash if I had any energy left at the end of the day). I'd forgotten to bring lunch and didn't feel like leaving to buy some for $10, so I drank some hot chocolate.
I finally finished up emailing the Celtic societies and was the last intern to leave the office at 6:30. I guess my stomach must be shrinking -- I stopped at Chipotle for a burrito bowl and couldn't finish it (I'll bring it for lunch tomorrow), then bought myself a cone from an ice cream truck and couldn't finish it (how ridiculous!). I decided to get my shopping for my new Starbucks uniform done -- thankfully 7th Ave where I work (/live? Is there a difference?) is Fashion Ave (or so say the signs) and it was pretty simple. Except that sprinkle crumbs from my ice cream cone fell out of my wallet and got all over my shirt.
I took the 30 or 45 minute ride back to the place where I sleep. On the subway, the woman on my right was reading The Five Love Languages. The man on my left was dozed off, head nodding at all. At his stop, he abruptly woke up and rushed out the doors.
This morning I woke up at 6:30 am -- I hadn't pulled my curtain all the way across my window and the sun was shining right in my eyes -- to the symphony of car horns that is constantly playing in New York City. (You know the canned sound of cars honking that they play in New York movies? Yeah, it's real.) Normally this would be an unfortunate occurrence, but I jumped on the opportunity to take a shower before one of my three roommates could grab it (usually I have to wait around at least 30 minutes to get in, making myself late in the process). Sadly, I felt accomplished. Then I got to sleep until 8:15 -- 8:15!
(Ah! My eyelids are drooping ... it's only 9:27 ... must stay awake ...)
Job Interview #2 was at 10 am. It was more of a screening, so it lasted about 10 minutes. Short and sweet. I got to my next interview 40 minutes early so I wandered around Borders and read "Wine for Dummies." (Did you know that white wines contain more sulfites than other wines?)
Job Interview #3 was at Starbucks by Penn Station. It took 15 minutes for the manager to be able to talk to me -- all NYC Starbucks are constantly busy. She offered me a drink, went over my application, and since she didn't have open positions anymore, sent me down the street to Macy's (yes, the seven-story Macy's).
I wandered to the Starbucks on the second floor of Macy's, getting offered at least ten fragrance samples along the way, and met with the general manager. He asked me a series of questions and then put me through the standard Starbucks exam, asking me to recall specific examples of work-related incidents so insignificant that my brain had chosen to forget them. At the end of it all, he said he wanted to hire me, and that I'd start training on Friday. $8.75/hour to start, $9.63 after 6 months, $8/week health insurance after 90 days, 10 blocks from my internship. Woohoo. Job search done.
[I find it amusing how everyone says I'm "taking a big leap" moving here, or that I need to be careful living in a big city, or that they're so amazed about how brave I am. To me, this whole thing seems perfectly natural. I feel like I've been living in this concrete land of hustle-and-bustle all my life.]
Ran off to my internship, where Barbara (who's in charge of tour marketing and with whom I have been working) had me make up a street team package (12 posters, a CD, 30 postcards and a set of labels). She had nothing else for me, so I asked Steve the intern coordinator for some work ... and was busy with it for the rest of the day. Initially I was looking up concert ticket sites for Guggenheim Grotto and Enter the Haggis, putting those sites in the database and making sure they were on the artists' myspace pages. Next I made up a promo package for Barbara to take to the Maiysha show tonight (while listening to Barbara console a sick Maiysha over the phone and offer to buy her all sorts of cold medicines). Then I started researching Celtic/Irish/Scottish societies to promote the Enter the Haggis shows to (while listening in to a conference call between Enter the Haggis and an internet marketing guru). In the middle of all this, Peter (the president) called me into his office thinking I was a graphic designer and asked me to make changes to the UFO and Invasion Group websites that were way beyond my skill level. (I'd go home and learn Flash if I had any energy left at the end of the day). I'd forgotten to bring lunch and didn't feel like leaving to buy some for $10, so I drank some hot chocolate.
I finally finished up emailing the Celtic societies and was the last intern to leave the office at 6:30. I guess my stomach must be shrinking -- I stopped at Chipotle for a burrito bowl and couldn't finish it (I'll bring it for lunch tomorrow), then bought myself a cone from an ice cream truck and couldn't finish it (how ridiculous!). I decided to get my shopping for my new Starbucks uniform done -- thankfully 7th Ave where I work (/live? Is there a difference?) is Fashion Ave (or so say the signs) and it was pretty simple. Except that sprinkle crumbs from my ice cream cone fell out of my wallet and got all over my shirt.
I took the 30 or 45 minute ride back to the place where I sleep. On the subway, the woman on my right was reading The Five Love Languages. The man on my left was dozed off, head nodding at all. At his stop, he abruptly woke up and rushed out the doors.
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