Posts Tagged ‘new york’

How To Be A Traveling Freelance Writer

February 23rd, 2012

Many people have asked me whether it’s difficult to work and travel all the time like I do, and my answer is always the same: You just have to discipline yourself and work wherever you are! After having this conversation yet again yesterday, I decided to make it easier for everyone to visualize the process, by chronicling a typical morning for me.

— WAKE UP! … at 11 a.m. (after nodding off sometime around 6 in the morning, having dropped Tylenol PM in desperation around 4:30. Circadian biorhythms that do not coincide with the time zone where one is — which, today, is Buenos Aires — are among the drawbacks of constant movement).

— Teeth/ face/ hair/ contacts.

— Change from sleeping lululemon yoga pants into … waking lululemon yoga pants (bought at the source: Vancouver!).

— (Today I’m gonna be SO PRODUCTIVE!)

— Check Facebook. Giggle. Frown. “Like” things. Make pithy comments. Check Wonkette, check HuffPo. Cluck disapprovingly at story about National Enquirer running a cover photo of Whitney Houston in her coffin, while simultaneously clicking all the various links I need to click in order to view said photo. (She looked great.) Read my horoscope. (Today I’m gonna KILL IT!)

— Go downstairs, chat with friend in whose house I am currently crashing (a fabulous, internationally acclaimed artist), who is busy sewing bits of paper together. We discuss current events. We discuss our day ahead. (Both of us: Gonna PRODUCE! Great stuff! All day!)

— I head out. Go directly to cafe suggested by friend. Discover too late that it is less of a cafe, and more of a fabulous artisan chocalatier with a very limited menu. (Danger!) Realize I should leave immediately because really good chocolate is one of my Kryptonites; however, decide that I am obligated to stay because: a) I don’t want to disappoint my friend and b) they already saw me walk in and I can’t just leave because that would be rude and c) I will be so busy KILLING IT today with all my productivity that I won’t have the time nor the mental energy to peruse the vast glass counter filled with truffles and bonbons and all sorts of delectable hand-crafted chocolate treats and delights in hundreds of shapes and sizes and flavors and varieties.

— Look around for a work space. The place looks like a Victorian romance novel threw up all over it: shades of pink and cream, prim marble-topped tables and crystal waterfall light fixtures and lampshades smothered in silk roses, elaborate spinning tabletop carousels, and fussy quilted reproduction Louis XIV chairs and settees and ottomans — upholstered either in Pepto pink velvet or pink-and-white toile. Beribboned carousel ponies and flowered teacups are painted on the windows. Along the front window are four barber’s chairs with violent pink-and-white stripes lined up along a long counter, and it is here where I sit and pull out my iPad and prepare for my day ahead … which? Is gonna be fabulous. And productive.

— Examine limited menu. Order eggs Benedict and coffee.

— Check Facey again. Update my status.

— Time to KILL IT. Open “Notes” to see my to-do list. The “Note” on top is not my to-do list for today, however, but a list of books I’ve been interested in reading. Oooh! Remember I have no unread books on my iPad. This is bad, terrible in fact, for someone who travels a lot, even though I’m stationary at the moment, but HEY I will be traveling again in a few days, and I will require books!

— Spend four minutes on iBooks downloading two books (categories: Spirituality and Horror), then spent the next 26 minutes browsing the online bookstore.

— My breakfast arrives sometime in this time span. Either there has been a gross breakdown in translation (possible), or Argentines interpret eggs Benedict as a single fried egg on top of sweet French toast alongside four wet arugula leaves (also possible). Coffee is good though.

— Time to kill it! Open document from client. Realize I need a more advanced spreadsheet-editing app than the one I have on my Pad, if I want to complete my work as efficiently as possible. Which of course I do, as I am productivity machine.

— Search online through several iPad forums to research the best app for what I need. (I have to be diligent about this! I can’t just pick any one! My productivity is on the line here!) Learn that what I want is Quickoffice and that it is $10. A bargain! Click link in forum which takes me to Quickoffice web site. The site says the app is now $15. Still reasonable! Click download link and am taken to App Store where it is now $20. WTF. Click Buy. With this new technology I can WORK AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT.

— While app is downloading, check Facey. Note who “liked” my status. Note who has posted since I updated my status but did not “like” it.

— Quickoffice app has downloaded. Still checking Facey. Read a couple of news articles. Read the comments below the articles. Roll eyes at moron commenters while mentally composing the indignant responses I would post if my comments weren’t visible to my friends on Facey.

— Sneak a glance behind me, at chocolate counter. Look back down at Pad. Look at counter. Look at Pad. Look at counter. Pad. Counter.

— I need distractions! Go to YouTube. Watch old ESPN commercial with Drew Brees. Giggle. Love New Orleans. Watch the NYC Soul Train Flash Mob tribute to Don Cornelius. Smile! Love New York.

— Decide I want a flash mob doing the Electric Slide and a Soul Train line at MY funeral. Ponder whether I should write my wishes down and have them notarized and delivered to next of kin, otherwise I might have a basic garden-variety funeral with lots of crying and solemnity, which would be unacceptable. Ponder death, meaning of life, importance of ritual. Look over at chocolate counter again.

— I need distractions! Go back to Facey. Someone has posted the new Gorillaz track featuring James Murphy and Andre3000. Go to SoundCloud. Do I want the SoundCloud iPad app? Well, yeah! Download.

— Look at chocolate counter again. Notice that, as per Argentine custom, no server has acknowledged or approached me in the past hour to remove my dishes or find out if I want more coffee, which I do. Become annoyed. Drum fingers. Look at chocolate counter. Ooh, are those …? No. No!

— I need distractions. Check on progress of SoundCloud download. Done! Listen to new Gorillaz song. So good. Post it on Facey.

— Decide the waitress has forgotten me entirely and that I must therefore approach the counter. Instead of ordering another coffee as planned, find myself ordering box of assorted truffles. Danger! In panic, blurt out that I would like to pay my check and leave. Fork over an inordinate amount of pesos for a bad breakfast, good coffee, and what I am assuming are great chocolates. Snatch little gilt box from saleswoman after admitting they are not a gift — yes lady, you heard me correctly, they’re for ME — and scurry from cafe/chocolatier.

— Decide everything went to hell today due to my initial bad decision to work in the wrong type of cafe, and that I must now go out in this beautiful day, with the sun shining and birds chirping frantically, to find the correct type of cafe for my work output and well-being, one with healthy salads and bubbly water and no distractions. It is only 2:30 p.m.! Plenty of time to be productive today.

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Posted in Argentina, Buenos Aires, Pontifications, Travels

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NYC: Stellar Bites – Lombardi’s Pizzeria and Rice to Riches

January 6th, 2011

Sometimes the tourists get it right. Case in point: the historic Lombardi’s Original Pizza of New York. Billed as “America’s first pizzeria,” it occupies a top spot in the pizza-snobbish Big Apple, its praises sung by Zagat’s and every tourist rag from Travel + Leisure to Lonely Planet . As a result, it’s crawling with out-of-towners, which normally would make me flee, flee, flee. If you share that instinct, though, ignore it and brave the tourist hordes for a damn good pizza pie.

The secret is Lombardi’s thin hand-tossed crust, baked to crispy perfection in white-tiled charcoal ovens. These antiquated ovens are no longer allowed in NYC — one great excuse to visit this throwback to 1905. The crust is a testament to the difference a pizza oven can make: thin enough to render a satisfying crunch, strong enough to support fresh mozzarella, juicy tomatoes, charred pepperoni rounds cupping hot little pools of oil, or whatever other classic toppings you pick. The outer rim is crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside, and just dense enough to soak up all the pizza’s juices and oils. Get the original “margherita” (mozzarella, tomato sauce, fresh basil and romano), add your toppings, and wash it down with a pitcher of cold Brooklyn Lager.

Large margherita with tomatoes, spinach & wild mushrooms

At the edge of Little Italy in the fun Nolita neighborhood, Lombardi’s has an old-school Italian ambiance with checkered tablecloths, vintage Italian movie posters, and Sinatra crooning over the speakers. The restaurant is a labyrinth of small dining rooms upstairs and down, some of which require a trip through the busy kitchen to get to your table. Expect to drop between $25 and $35 per person if you order beer or wine.

Leave room for dessert, because when you stagger through the front doors of Lombardi’s and across narrow Spring Street, you’ll run into Rice to Riches, a flamboyant rice-pudding bar with a 1960s futuristic go-go flair and unapologetic pro-dessert stance. With at least a dozen daily flavors of rice pudding (try Butterscotch Boulevard, Almond Shmalmond, or Panna Cotta) and toppings (like espresso crumble, toasted coconut, or jelly), it’s classic comfort food disguised as an über-hip dish. This is the treat that appeals to my inner 6-year-old: sweet, creamy, compellingly lumpy and able to be eaten at the Jetsons’ kitchen table. Portions range from $6.50 per solo portion to $35 for the Moby (serves 10).

Long counter for puddings and toppings to the right,

futuristic seating all around.

Hee!

Click below for more reviews of Lombardi’s Pizza and Rice to Riches:

Lombardi's Pizza on Urbanspoon
Rice To Riches on Urbanspoon

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Posted in Fooooooooood., USA: New York City

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NYC: Xmas and the City, Part 3

January 4th, 2011

The last of my holiday 2010 snaps from New York City.  The photos from this last installment were all taken Christmas night. The holidays may be over, but the decorations are still up. Which is nice, since the Big Apple is currently a giant dirty slush puddle from the blizzard that dumped two feet of snow onto the city the day after I took these shots.

Happy New Year, y’all!

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NYC: Xmas and the City, Part 2

December 30th, 2010

Here are a few more snaps taken in New York City on Christmas Eve and Christmas, 2010.


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Trapped on the Subway

December 28th, 2010

I’ve heard some horrid travel stories before, and have had my share of them, and here’s one that makes the All-Time Worst category: a Brooklyn couple, along with 400 other people, are trapped overnight on the New York City Subway’s A Train during the post-Christmas blizzard that hit the Northeast. Wet and cold and underdressed, they were unable to get off the train for hours. And then — because they were coming from the airport — to add insult to injury, they had to lug their frigging bags three blocks through deep snow to their house.

The writer refers to some of the other people stuck in the subway: the mom with kids, the people who wanted water, the people who needed to use the bathroom. Eventually they all got to get out and use a train station bathroom, which — because it was heated — became a popular spot for everyone to linger. A subway station bathroom was the most comfortable place to be, y’all. Ew. Ew.

My nightmare travel scenarios have generally involved hot temperatures, a packed and broken-down bus/train/boat/whatever, and third-world conditions. The “crammed into a broke-down public vehicle” and “third world conditions” definitely apply here, though these poor bastards had to deal with extreme cold instead of extreme heat. Not to mention, they were only a few miles away from home the entire time — that had to have been maddening. My hat is off to them. Hope they got warm and dry and some hot toddies in them, pronto, and they won’t let this stop them from traveling.

Anyway, here is a reminder of what the lovely NYC subway is like …

Taking the A Train: Sometimes not a jaunty jazz standard

NYC subway trains don't exactly have sleeper cars. Or bathrooms.

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Posted in Travels, USA: New York City

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NYC: Xmas and the City

December 19th, 2010

The Big Apple decked out for  the holidays is always thrilling. There is a mixture of over-the-top showmanship, tasteful glamour and gritty neighborhood festivity that permeates the streets and sidewalks, along with the intoxicating warm smell of roasted chestnuts combined with steam pouring up from the street grates; the noise:  horns honking, voices, music, people rushing past, Salvation Army Santas ringing bells, the bite in the air as the wind whips your scarf around. Christmastime is the essence of Manhattan: bold, loud, energetic, breathtaking, overwhelming and a giant rush to all the senses.

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Posted in Photo Galleries, Travels, USA: New York City

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New York City, wintertime, 2010

February 12th, 2010

Snaps of New York City in January and February.

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Daytime snaps from the High Line, NYC

February 8th, 2010

The High Line is a freight rail line that ran through New York’s West Side from 1934-1908, now under restoration as an elevated public park. Section 1 of the High Line runs from Gansevoort St. to 20th St., and Section 2, now still under construction, will extend it to 30th Street.

Here are some snaps of and from the High Line, taken in February 2010.

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Coney Island in winter

February 3rd, 2010

Taken at Coney Island Amusement Park and beach in New York, Jan. 22, 2010. A vast, empty, lonely, eerily beautiful place.

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An Ex-Pat Watches The New Orleans Saints in NYC

January 26th, 2010

I saw the New Orleans Saints beat the Vikings and make it to the Super Bowl not in New Orleans, but in New York City.

I watched the game in a Midtown bar: one that’s nice, and has good enough Louisiana cuisine, and serves seasonal Abita beers. As far as substitutes go, it’s a decent one — but still so far from New Orleans it hurt. There were the hugs and the yells, and the “Who Dat” chants, and the second-line around the bar, and all the right music, and I couldn’t have felt farther from New Orleans if I’d been standing alone in a Mennonite church.

I haven’t lived in the city since 2006: after Katrina, but before New Orleans remotely got its groove back; before Brangelina showed up, but after the world’s attention had died away. I left because of a breakup, not because I wanted to be anywhere else — and the pain of leaving New Orleans surely made the breakup much worse than it had to be. I’ve visited New Orleans since then, but to go back as a tourist just guts me.

I feel about that city as strongly as I feel about any of my close relatives and friends. Seeing New Orleans take the hit from the levee breaches after Katrina, and living in the wrecked city for months afterward, was like witnessing a loved one fight to survive a horrible, unfair accident. And then … I left it. Other New Orleanians worked and sweated and cried and bitched and lived together in ugly conditions, day in and day out, and they brought the city back. I’m grateful to them for making those sacrifices, as equally as I’m guilty I didn’t.

Fast-forward 5 years and the Saints are in the playoffs, and I need to watch the game with people like me — New Orleanians who had to leave, but in their hearts never did. We cried when they won. To see the Superdome as an epicenter of joy, rather than terror and death, doesn’t erase those disturbing images from the Dome in those days after the storm. It is, however, a soothing balm on a big sore spot that New Orleans has suffered since then.

Everyone’s saying the city “needed” this win, but it didn’t. The city needed its people, and they came through. What New Orleans needs now is decent levees, and politicians who aren’t shady, and good infrastructure and affordable housing, and the ability to bring back those artists and musicians who are part of its cultural heritage, but who can’t make a living there now.

The Saints in the Super Bowl is lagniappe, a little something extra that sweetens the situation. New Orleanians crave celebration like most human beings crave company. For so many of them, who struggled for weeks, months, even years after Katrina, this is a reason to celebrate. The city didn’t need for the Saints to go to the Super Bowl, but its people deserve it so damn much. I hate that I wasn’t in that number, but I really love that they were.

Friends in the bar, happy for the Saints, NYC.

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Posted in Pontifications

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