Pfffffffffffffffffft

…that’s how I feel and that’s why I haven’t blogged. Despite the MoMA, the past week ended up filled with little more than indolence, procrastination and wallowing. I am behind on my readings as a result, and as all students know, there is no greater disincentive to work.

There were some highlights, though. I found a dumpling place on Mulberry (I think) that serves up 6 potstickers for a dollar – one dollar! – and sells you frozen bags of 50 for $7. That was on the way home from the San Gennaro festival in Little Italy, which despite being 10 blocks long consists of only three things: sausage and pepper stands, carnie-type prize booths, and stalls selling Godfather and Scarface merchandise. I loved it anyway – strolling through on a calm fall day with my fancy new fall jacket on.

Some old stuff I forgot to post about: I went down to Ground Zero on September 11, and stood in the crowds for a while. (A mere block away it was chaos and open construction pits and suits scarfing down lunch.) I also caught that 9/11 documentary on t.v. again and recognized my neighbourhood in it – not just in a casual “Hey I know that place!” way, but in that way where you can feel the camera lens right on you.

I’ve very much settled in, and my own house and street and stomping grounds have all become mundane very fast. But the wonderful thing about cities like this is that all it takes is venturing one block over, and you find yourself immersed again in fascinatingly unfamiliar sights and sounds. Like yesterday on Sixth, with the autumn sunlight hitting the old brick buildings - including a 150-year-old apothecary - I hated going down into the subway. You can mix it up and do your shopping in Chinatown and swear you’re in Beijing. Or you can always venture way uptown and gawk at the stinking rich people in the windows of Versace.