13 August 2012

A Hell of a Town

I wrote most of this ~ 3 weeks prior to leaving New York. "Here," then, refers to NYC.

There are two ways to parse that.
Before moving here, I thought HELLUVA town. Hells yeah.
Moving here? a HELL of a town.
Now – it’s both. Everything is both. Everything is ambivalence.

I bike to work – felt like a legit NYC commuter today, messenger bag and all. Door-to-door, to bustling Long Island City and the DOHMH* with the secure bike room. Used my ID three times to get into the most secure building I've ever entered, belonging there. I rode under the BQE, across the Pulaski Bridge, right into Queensborough plaza.

*Department of Health and Mental Hygiene

That felt like the boldest part, first time. I used to commute to school, from my old apartment/old schedule. But that’s all in Brooklyn. Now, crossing the bridge. Crossing boroughs. And as I cross the bridge, to my left, across the East River, is midtown Manhattan. One of these days I’ll pull over to take a picture. It’s a narrow, two-way path, up up and over, with pedestrians and bikers--all commuters, at that hour. So I watch, crane a little. It’s beautiful. I don’t go to work before sunrise, anymore, and I go home before sunset. At this time of year.

Dawn at the DOHMH, before going to Riker's Island jail to do Hep C education