Hey folks! So, I've settled back into my American life, and this is my last day on Long Island. Or, as the locals call it, Lawng Island. Tomorrow though, I am leaving the world of velour pants, flip-flops, starbucks, blow-dryed hair, and manicured nails for some place that actually has a vibraint culture.
Oh man, I can't believe I just wrote that. I'm such a snotty Long Islander. LIE, Roosevelt Field Mall, LIRR, product of the Long Island public school system. That's me. Well, not really. I am basically the only Long Islander who cannot drive, with the exception of my very amazing friend Lakshmi, and I haven't been to Roosevelt Field in months, thankfully. That mall is a giant shrine to capitalism, and almost caves in on itself during December, what with the insane amounts of people it gets. It's actually the eighth largest mall in United States, and I went on several DATES there when I was fifteen! Dates! At Roosevelt Field Mall! Despite my bitchy , faux New York City attitude, I really did grow up there. I remember I met this guy I had a crush on, and we ate at the food court in Garden City. Wtf. How I became a pinko commie is beyond me, judging by the past few previous sentences. Well, I'm not actually a pinko commie, but you know...
Tomorrow, I am moving to Jackson Heights, a diverse neighborhood in North-Western Queens. Last year, I covered its neighbors- Woodside, Long Island City, and Sunnyside- for my grad school, and it really taught me to appreciate Queens. I completely fell in love with the borough. Why do people love going to far away stops in Brooklyn from Manhattan, but shy away from Queens? I'm not sure. But I dig Woodside, Astoria, Jackson Heights, Flushing... all I can think is, yay. And best of all, no more 1 train! No more 1 train! Now, I'll be on the e,f, v, 7, and one other subway, I forget which one.
I'm looking forward to school, particularly since being home has left me slightly clueless on how to occupy myself. I updated and re-crafted my resume. I ironed 7 tops and a dress. I cooked eggs. The last 2 items, by the way, are a big deal. I suck at cooking. I can barely boil water. But I scrambled three eggs. It was pretty cool. And I ironed. Oh man.
When I was bragging, yes bragging about my newfound (Ugandan?) interest in ironing, Josh, my best friend said, "You ironed? What's wrong with you?" I wrote an article for the Ugandan New Vison newspaper on differences between Ugandan and American men- kind of a funny, anecdotal essay. One major difference- Ugandan men are addicted to ironing! Even if there is load shedding (no power), they will just pick up and go to a different part of Kampala to iron. Or who knows, stay home until the power comes back. But a wrinkled shirt? Never! Josh only confirmed this with his jokingly horrified reaction. But I bet he secretly irons. His clothes always look great....
So tomorrow, Jackson Heights. I'll be subletting a teeny, teeny room, and taking an express subway to school, without having to transfer! Jackson Heights has been dubbed the 'Little India' of New York City, but is also home to many different European and South American nationalities. Walking around the neighborhood, there are people from Ecuador, Peru, India, Bangladesh, Poland, Italy, the Phillipines, former Soviet countries, pretty much everywhere. Should be great. The Indian food in Jackson Heights is supposed to be some of the best in the United States.
Today was excellent. Josh came over, he is one of my best friends from high school, and I went with him and my Dad for a picnic at the beach in King's Point, very near to Great Neck. Pictures to come...
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