The First Things You Do When You Go Back

Well, it has been a brutal uphill battle, full of tears and multiple all-nighters, but it looks like this semester is finally winding down to a close. As some of you may recall from my post about when New York kicks your ass (the one with the multiple Kierkegaard quotes, since I was in a melancholy mood), this has been a rough semester for me. Looking for a new apartment while trying to find a new job and do well in school was a juggling act that nearly killed me, but I'm happy to say that things are starting to look up. Only things left to do are edit a few final papers, take a few finals, and then it's over. Then, after I get back from China, I get to back to California!

Now don't get me wrong, I still love New York City. Even after all the heartache, from the brutal real estate market to the rat living under my stove being the worst roommate ever, I'm sure I will look forward to coming back here after some R&R in my hometown. However, this time around I don't have as much time to spend there, so I need to start planning how I'm going to spend my time now so that I don't waste it. So here are the first things I'm going to do when I get home, and if you're a returning Californian like me, I highly recommend you do the same:

1. Eat a Big, Fat, In-N-Out Burger.

It's the first thing I make my family do for me when I return. My siblings and I will go to the closest In-N-Out (it's not that hard since it's SoCal), shove an animal style burger and fries in my mouth, and wash it down with a neapolitan shake. It sounds basic, but who cares? Shake Shack just doesn't cut it after a while: I need my fix of In-N-Out, man.

2. DIDNY LAN!!!!

Yeah I've already been a million times, and you're damn right I'm going again. Every Southern Californian I've spoken to agrees that we cannot get enough of Disney Land, no matter how often we went back when it was a quick drive away. You just never outgrow the rides and the nostalgia, and you're never too old to get your photo taken with the cast members. There's also Knott's Berry Farm, which is nice too.

3. Bar-hopping at the Packing House.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, the Packing House in downtown Anaheim is one of the greatest places ever, and I'm not just saying that because my dad is the architect. There are a ton of bars inside, and the Anaheim Brewery is a short walk away, making it the perfect place for a either a classy night of food and drink, or a crazy night of bar hopping with your buddies from high school. I'm going to opt out for the latter of the two.

4. Go fishing.

Being in the city for so long can make you kind of soft, so it's important to make rigorous outdoor activities a big part of your trip home. The first thing that comes to my mind is going out on the ocean with a pole and coming back with dinner. There's nothing quite like fishing: the wind in your hair, the sun at your back, the blood and guts on your hands, it all just feels so natural. I firmly believe that there is a part of us that craves a relationship with nature, and I believe fishing satisfies that inner desire quite nicely.

5. Have a bonfire on the beach.

It's one of my favorite pass times for as long as I can remember. There's something about an open fire on the beach that feels like home. Almost every special occasion I've been at ends up at the beach at some point: graduations, birthdays, family gatherings, first day at a new job, last day at a new job, or really anytime the weather is nice. It acts as sort of a hard reset, like a vantage point in which to observe life from an outside perspective. It's been to long since I've been to the beach, and it feels very good knowing that I'll get to see it soon.

When You Just Want To Get A Damn Drink

There's nothing quite like springtime in New York. The cold of winter is almost entirely on its way out, but the humidity of summer has not yet arrived. The technical first day of spring may be March 21, but in reality, its the first day that you walk outside your building in a jacket only to realize that you don't need it. It really is magical.

However, if you're a student like me, enjoyment of the wonderful springtime weather is interrupted by all of the looming finals and papers you need to be working on. It's an incredibly stressful time, especially if you're like me and job / apartment hunting on top of it all. Finding time to relax a little is almost impossible, but when you do happen to find time for yourself, all that stress makes it feel that much sweeter. Everyone's got their method of relaxing: watching Netflix, playing video games, getting exercise, going to a cat cafe, napping for hours on end, etc. Personally, when I have a minute to breathe, the only thing I can think about is going out and getting a beer with friends.

New York has some of the greatest bars in the country, arguably the world, and there are certainly no shortages of places to get pleasantly stewed in the 5 Boroughs. But while those Top 10 places are great for special occasions and wild nights out, they get really annoying when you just want to unwind for a bit. Meanwhile, you don't want to go in the exact opposite direction and hit up the seediest dive bar you can find: being in a new place that doesn't look too safe is not going to help you relax at all. So here are some of my favorite bars in the city, not to have a wild night out or engage in illicit activity, but to just unwind and have a damn drink.

1. Whitehorse Tavern (25 Bridge St.)

Now don't get this place confused with the trendier White Horse Tavern in the Upper West Side. This here is a good old fashioned friendly neighborhood dive bar, where the bartenders learn your name and beer is as little as $3.00. Whitehorse Tavern is the Eagle and Child to my J.R.R. Tolkien (that's just a way of saying I go here a lot). It's my go-to for a quick Guinness after a long day, or a small celebratory drink for something like not failing a test. It's just one of those bars where memories are made, that also won't break your bank account.

2. O'Reilly's (54 West 31st St.)

When I lived in Midtown, this was the only place in the neighborhood that didn't blast crappy music and wasn't full of obnoxious drunk people trying to get laid. It also honors the 4:00 a.m closing time, unlike most places that say they do but then close at 1:00. This is the kind of bar you can actually tolerate staying in until closing, because it's quite, spacious, and not terribly busy. I actually had my first drink as a 21 year old at this bar, along with my second...and third...and fourth...

3. Caledonia Scottish Pub (1609 2nd Ave.)

What it lacks in elbow room, it more than makes up for in ambiance and scotch selection. I mean, they have so much scotch here, it's incredible. They have beer and other stuff here too, but you can get that anywhere: scotch is what you really want, and they have one for whatever mood you may be in. For an Upper East Side place, it's rather affordable, and the music and people who drink here are very agreeable to a night of relaxed casual drinking.

4. The Dead Poet (450 Amsterdam Ave. #1)

If you can avoid the busiest hours (8:00-10:00), it really is a remarkable place. They have a huge selection of everything, there's lots of space to sit, and it feels classy without being too expensive. There are a lot of great places in the Upper West Side, but this is one place you can always count on to have a good time.

5. The Library - The Nomad Hotel (1170 Broadway)

This one is a little bit tricky: it's inside of a hotel and the guests are given priority over seating, so if they're full you're out of luck. But if it's not a particularly busy day, the Library in the Nomad Hotel is my favorite place to have a relaxing drink in the city (so far). It's quiet, comfortable, and serves amazing cocktails. You're surrounded by books and fancy furniture too, so you feel like you're living the New York high-life when you're there. But if this isn't an option, the hotel has another bar inside that is also amazing. You just have to make do with not drinking in a comfy armchair.

An Ode to Mexican Food

Ah, Mexican food. How I do long for thee. Anyone from California living in New York knows the sadness at this city's surprising lack of Mexican food. The withdraw symptoms are very real, and its a very hot conversation topic among Californians who long for home.

But rather than write about how much I miss Mexican food, I thought it would be appropriate to have my friend Rachel compose a poem on the subject.

Here now is her Ode to Mexican Food:

Come now, friends, brethren –

     No matter the weather, the moment, the mood –

     Abandon whatever it was you were chomping

     (For surely such garbage will leave your soul wanting)

     And come hither to experience

     The holy grail

     Of mortal food.

     The French may have their tapenade

     And the Italians their wine

     There are a million ethnic foods

     Upon which millennials may dine

     But out of all the culinary Avalons

     Nirvanas, Meccas, and Babylons,

     You’ll never know heaven until you know

     The heaven you find

     Inside

     A questionable-looking alley

     In Mexico.

     But for the hungry NY sojourner

     There’s a plethora of places to get one’s fill

     Chipotle, El Toro, Taco Bell, etc.

     La Baja Mexican Grill

     But for all these options, I maintain

     It’s not truly authentic until you can say

     “You know, I’m not certain this doesn’t contain

     A trace of ground-up tongue

     And cow brain…”

     It’s not for all, this glory, pursued

     Narrow and steep is the high road, it’s true

     (For both moral paths

     And culinary avenues)

     Not all will give tortillas

     The reverence due.

      Some men, alas, are mortals, mere –

     And with every tantalizing bite

     Must follow a swig of milk

     And the taste of tears.

     But for those of us who have lived the dream

     Had the crowning achievement of earthly cuisine,

     Here’s how the secret to happiness goes:

     (The wisdom one country already knows)

     There’s no Hallmark moment sweeter than

     “That moment of utmost rapture when

     You’re handed a freshly-made

     Taco.”

When New York Kicks Your Ass

My go-to reading when I question the suffering in my life.

So I've had a terrible week. I mean, it has been absolutely terrible, and as of right now there is no end in sight. I won't go into specifics as to why that is, but unforeseen circumstances have forced me to drastically alter my long term plans, all while I am preparing for the end of the semester and my upcoming trip to China. It has been a wonderful week of weather here in New York, and it actually reminds me of April days back in Orange County. Yet I am stuck inside, huddled over my phone and my laptop, trying to put together my life in the midst of deadlines and obligations that need to be met. It has been one hit after another, and the hits just keep coming. Like Edgar Allen Poe, I too feel as though I have "breathed and atmosphere of sorrow" as of late.

...ok that might be a little extreme, but things are hard right now and I'm in a sad poet mood.

I mentioned in my last post how New York is the city that hugs and punches you at the same time. Sometimes it is one or the other. Sometimes the city provides more than you can possibly imagine, whether it's a job, a part in a play, a new relationship, or even just a treasured memory. But sometimes it's just punches you, like when you loosing that job, or can't meet a crucial deadline, or when you're not being fast enough to land that apartment you fell in love with. Sometimes New York just beats you up, and for some reason it feels more personal than back home. After all, this is the city that was "waiting for you" (in the words of Taylor Swift), and you feel that much more betrayed when it feels like it's rejecting you like a virus.

But here's the thing: What makes you worthy to live here isn't how well you avoid the hurt, it's how you deal with it. New Yorkers are tough, and if you want to be one, you need to get tough real quickly. So here are some tips to keep in mind when things get tough:

Don't distract yourself from the reality of the situation.

It's the natural human instinct that tells you to hide from your problems, and when things rough that impulse becomes almost unbearable. But your problems won't go away by hiding under the covers, or getting to the bottom of a bottle of wine. You need to confront the reality of your situation, no matter how painful it is. They teach you in AA that recognition is the first step to recovery: the sheer admittance of a problem will set you on the path to remedying it.

Find a buddy to keep you from giving up.

Kierkegaard said that there is an aspect of "dizziness" the individual feels when they recognize their freedom, as the anguish of responsibility for their finite existence overwhelms them. New York is very good at pointing out how small and frail you are, and the weight of responsibility may feel unbearable at times. To keep from giving up, designate a friend or family member to snap you out of existential despair, and make sure you assume responsibility for your life. I call my mom when I get a little Kierkegaardian, because she is the toughest person I know and is very good at telling me to "snap the hell out of it." For more about the importance of community, see my previous post on the subject.

Develop a plan.

Create a time-table for "crisis mode" and stick to it. Having a schedule will give you a sense of security amidst the anguish of living in an absurd and finite existence (Ok I've been reading a lot of existentialism lately). Don't let the immediacy of a situation keep you from making a plan to make it right, lest you handle the situation poorly.

Learn from it.

Everything problem is a learning opportunity, and New York has a very steep learning curve. When you come out on top of a bad situation (and trust me, it will get better), take time to reflect on it and see what you can learn. Miss out on an apartment? Put down an offer quicker next time. Get pick-pocketed? Keep your wallet in your shirt pocket or in a hidden compartment in your purse. Bad roommate situation? Adapt your criteria for interviewing future roommates. Don't forget to reflect on the hard chapters in life, or else the suffering is meaningless.

I could have had it easy back home in Orange County: I could have gone to a less difficult school, gotten a comfortable job, lived at home for a while, and stay within the comfort of the place I grew up. But I didn't. I chose to come here because I knew it would prepare me for a better life. Whether you're coming from Orange County like me, or from anywhere else in the county, you most likely worked your ass off to get here. No matter how bad it gets or hopeless it seems, don't give up.

Nobody Makes It in New York On Their Own

When I first came to New York, I had the privilege of meeting Nathan W. Pyle, author of the bestselling book NYC Basic Tips and Etiquette, when he came to visit my humble little school. I got a copy of his book, and after a week of intense studying, became far better equipped to handle the city than I ever would have been if I had tried to do trial and error. Of course there are always things you need to handle in the moment, but helpful advice, whether it be from a book or friends of yours, goes a long way in cutting that learning curve down to size.

If you're thinking about moving to New York, or have already done so, then hopefully you have come to terms with the reality of the situation. New York is tough, gritty, and is going to break your heart every other day. Like Pyle said in his book, New York is the city that simultaneously gives you a great big hug and then punches you in the face. The stress is difficult, and a lot of people can't handle it (every year half the freshmen drop out of school during the first semester). You are forced to grow up very quickly, and while it's incredibly painful, it makes you much more equipped to handle life as an adult. Everybody knows that one Frank Sinatra song, where he says "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere." That certainly is true, but if there's anything I've learned from living here is that "making it" is not an individual enterprise. You need friends, and you need community.

I'm gonna rag on sitcoms again, so bear with me. All the characters on sitcoms are such good friends, and they love each other deeply (except It's Always Sunny, they're all terrible people). But you cannot move to a brand new place like New York and expect that you will find a close-nit group of sitcom character friends and form a cute "family" with. I'm not saying it's impossible, but it's not a given, so don't sit around waiting for that magical group of friends that may never come.

Work friends don't count either. All of you are working to achieve some sort of professional goal, and if you're doing your job correctly, chances are you aren't forging that community with your co-workers. Again, there are exceptions depending on the work, but this is also not a given by any means. You're an adult with an adult job, and while it's one thing to get a beer with a co-worker, don't go to work with the expectation that your work friends will be your best friends, who can satisfy your need for community.

When I say community, I mean people bound together by something other than work or friendship for its own sake. People who have your back, whom you can lean upon when life gets inevitably more than you can handle on your own. People who build you up, and temper your strength against the harsh reality of the city. Iron sharpening iron, as C.S Lewis would say.

I was fortunate to find community within the House of C.S Lewis, the Harry Potter-style community at my college. All of us, united by these community goals, fulfill this purpose for one another, and without them I would have left New York a long time ago. If you don't have access to this type of community, find some people with a common interest, like swing dancing or theatre. If your religious, find a church, or temple, or mosque, or zikr, or if you're not, find a group of atheists to hang out with. Every kind of community is here, and there is no excuse for not finding one to be apart of.

Lewis says that friendship starts the moment you say "Me too? I thought I was the only one!" It's finding a bunch of weirdos who like each other, and meeting about a common thing. Fiends don't face one another, but stand side by side, looking at the same truth they hold dear. Philosophically speaking, friendship is not necessary for one's immediate survival, but it is a component to ensure life is worth living. You don't move to New York to "survive," but to "flourish," and if man is to achieve flourishing it must be done in community (as Aristotle would say). I miss my community in Orange County often, and I did by no means replace them here. Rather, I found a new home in the hearts of others out here, who have shaped my experience in the city for the better.

Stop Procrastinating and Go See a Doctor Already!

In Dostoyevsky's Notes from the Underground, the narrator complains about a problem in his liver, yet refuses to go see a doctor. He has no idea what's wrong or how to treat it, but out of spite the narrator does not seek treatment, and lets the pain permeate. For Dostoyevsky, this is not an problem of ignorance or masochism, but a problem derived from freedom: if the highest virtue man can seek is the ability to do as he / she pleases, they will devolve into irrational, reckless behavior in the name of asserting their freedom. Sure the narrator is in pain, but in procrastinating in seeing the doctor he protects the timeless virtue of being able to do as he pleases. Never did any character from literature speak so true to me, until I found myself in the exact same position.

I've been sick the last few weeks, and it has sucked. Tremendously. I was in near constant pain pretty much every day from a low ache in my head and behind my eyes, and no amount of Tylenol and herbal tea could help. I told my girlfriend I was fine, and of course she didn't believe me, but she didn't say anything in hopes that I would eventually wise-up and get it checked out by a doctor. Well I chose to procrastinate instead, and one day while we were reading together over tea, my symptoms go so bad she had to drag me to a clinic nearby to get my head looked at. (It's actually our go-to date: just sitting together and reading whatever books we had been working on. She was working her way through Tolstoy's Death of Ivan Ilyich, and I was enjoying C.S Lewis's The Weight of Glory). Turns out I had a cluster headache due to a sinus infection, which lead to a migraine so bad that it rendered me incapable of both walking and opening my eyes. Luck for me my girlfriend was there, or I'm not entirely sure what would have happened.

Now why am I telling you this? Because this is not the first time I or someone else new to the city has refused to go to the doctor right away, only to pay for it later. Back in Orang County, I hardly ever got sick, and when I did it was nothing a day or two at home couldn't cure. I hardly ever saw my doctor unless it was a routine check up. However, when I moved to New York, I realized just how serious being sick actually could be, and how my regular methods for treating illness (Tylenol and tea) didn't cut it. Despite my overwhelming desire to preserve my freedom to do as I please (as Dostoyevsky would put it), I've come to realize that procrastination with your health in New York is futile and you should go to the doctor.

Financiers and bankers say that if New York sneezes, the entire world catches a cold. That rings true in the financial world, but I have come to realize that it also applies to individuals in the city as well: if a New Yorker sneezes, sooner or later everyone will get whatever the hell they had. New York is the crossroads of the world, making it a crossroads for illnesses of all shapes and sizes, from all corners of the world. You may have caught every strand of the cold or flu back home in California, but upon moving to New York you will need to catch those illnesses all over again in new forms, including new one's you never even knew about. What feels like a soar throat at first could end up being something you haven't built up an immunity for, like bronchitis or strep. You just never know.

Being sick is terrible, and being sick in New York is even worse. Don't be like the narrator who doesn't get a check up (he also frequents prostitutes and ruins birthday parties, so don't do those things either), and just see the doctor. There are lots of clinics around the city that are very accessible, and they take most insurance. You have no excuse for not seeing one if you feel seriously ill, and you are the only one who knows how to tell if that is the case. Don't procrastinate. Go to the doctor.

Why The "Single Life" in New York Actually Sucks

The sitcoms we grew up with have lied to us. I'm sorry to say it, but it's true. Whether we're watching Joey, Barney, Jerry, or any of the other characters on T.V, they're all communicating the same message: that dating in the city is a fun experience full of wacky hijinks. These guys can go out to bars and coffee shops, look at a pretty girl, go "How you doin'?" or "Do you like magic?" and get dates, no hassle (unless they get rejected in a very comical way). This was the narrative that was communicated to myself and countless other 20-somethings for our whole lives, and we definitely carried those expectations into the dating world. But I can tell you first hand that trying to live the "single life" in New York is nothing like the sitcoms, and is in fact a stressful, tedious, frustrating, dangerous, and often fruitless endeavor.

Now, by the "single life," I am not referring to one who happens to find themselves in a situation where they happen to be single. Being single, whether it's by choice or not, is a remarkable opportunity for self-discovery and improvement, and I don't believe anybody is ready for a relationship unless they can honestly say that they enjoy themselves without a partner. I'm also not referring to people who are casually dating in hopes of meeting someone special. Chance encounters don't happen often, so it's important to put yourself out there, as long as your priorities are in order.

I'm referring to the lifestyle of going out to bars every night in hopes of "scoring." People who scoff at the idea of second dates or any kind of commitment. Those who play fast and loose with other people's emotions and wasting their time, as well as their own. They're not thinking about self discovery or improvement, but rather, as Simone de Beauvoir would say, fleeing from nihilistic despair. But we'll table the philosophy for now. Right now I'd just like to address how living this way in New York is nothing like it is portrayed on T.V, and why it should be avoided:

These people aren't cool, they're annoying.

It sounds like a lot of fun to pretend to be Barney Stinson for a night, hitting on single ladies (or gentlemen, for that matter) at the bar. But when you go out to a bar or party, these guys on the "prowl" for strange are actually annoying as hell, and everyone wants them to leave. People most often attend these social settings in groups, and when one guy is trying to separate someone from their peers, expect there to be a defensive response from whomever they're with. Bouncers in New York will most likely throw you out if you pull this crap, mainly for safety reasons (we'll get to that in a moment). Don't be that guy or gal who goes on the "prowl," just enjoy yourself and the people you're with, and let whatever possible chance meetings with potential mates happen on their own.

It makes you emotionally unavailable for when the real thing happens.

If you've only got one thing on your mind when you are approaching people in public, you're going to miss out on everything they may have to offer in an actual relationship. People aren't notches in a belt, but you'll never know that if you keep treating them that way. Even if you're in one of those "casual hook-up-we're-not-labeling-it" things, you're wasting time for either digging deeper into a relationship, spending quality time with yourself, or finding someone you actually want to share your life with. New York may be a city of 8.5 million people, but compatibility is hard to come by, and unless you plan to be doing this when you're 60, sooner or later you will need to give this some attention. Even Barney had his moments of "I can't keep doing this forever."

It's very dangerous.

This is probably the most important reason I can give, and it applies to both men and women. The worst case scenario on T.V is Joey throwing a girl's wooden leg on a fireplace, or Jessica Day having an awkward encounter with her hook-up's ex that's still living with him. In real life, that worst case scenario is far more serious. The risks of acquiring an STD are increased exponentially if one is consistently going out and hooking up with strangers, as well as the possibilities of being drugged and taken advantage of (this happens to men as well). None of the people on T.V have to live with the consequences of their actions from more than a 22 minute episode. You will need to live with them for the rest of your life.

This week, I wanted to take a break and address a more serious topic, one that involves not just people coming from SoCal, but to anyone who moved or is thinking about moving to New York. I have fond memories with all the shows I've mentioned above, but a big thing one needs to learn when they move here is that they are fiction. The "single life" is not a glamorous one by any means...unless you are a sitcom character.