Done! Done! Done! 8/26/10

A day of accomplishments: made the bed, vacuumed, took a trip to Bed Bath and Beyond with my sister and returned the tea kettle for one with a cover that fits, none of them did, and returned the juicer that Mom didn't like, for a store credit of half the price. She'd been wanting to bring it back for the last five years! Returning home, I restrung the kitchen curtain that had been hanging lopsided for months, attempted to put the closet door back on its track and failed, and replaced Mom's large microwave with a newer and smaller one a neighbor had left behind when he moved out a few days ago. I feel accomplished (and needed)!

No Nosey Noses 8/23/10

The house is airless, hot from lack of ventilation. Mom keeps the blinds drawn and the windows closed except for one window in the kitchen which stays slightly open, "I need air!" she cries out as she takes a deep breath and inhales the fumes from the street and her cigarette. Despite the gate I recently installed for security, and the two foot tall gladiolas I've planted in a window box in front of the livingroom window for privacy, Mom is still ill at ease, "I don't need these people sticking their noses in my business!" "What business goes on in the living room?" I ask. "No one uses it but me and the only thing I'm doing is reading." "People can see in when they walk by," Mom insists. I had to verify it, took myself outside to peep in, and behind those tall gladiolas and tightly drawn blinds, absolutely nothing could be seen, not even the people in the apartment gasping for air!

Superwoman to the Rescue 8/22/10

Sometimes it's frightening to think I'm here, in NY, to stay! I feel as though I'm in a different dimension, not comfortable and can't imagine how I ever will be. A noisy place, with small apartments, stacked one on top of another, people everywhere, I hardly see any greenery. The peace I find when alone is rarely available, people talking on cell phones, cars honking, trucks growling, sirens piercing the already noisy air.

In my new existence here there's so much to do, obligations make the choices for me, like being a mother of many children, I do what's next, pretty much without thinking. My attention is not on myself but on what my mother needs. I'm here to support her.

From time to time I ask myself, "Am I really going to live in New York City? Isn't this just another of my brief family visits? Did I think this through thoroughly? Could I have found another way to make it work? Did I really explore all my options or did I just see a need and jump in, Superwoman to the rescue!?"

But now I am here and the challenge is to have a life with no regrets and to be able to eventually say, "I love my New York life!" Feels like a stretch, but then again I've only been here a few days.

Tonight was another night of not falling asleep, I usually have no difficulty. A cup of Chamomile tea, a trick I learned in espresso drinking France, usually lulls me off to sleep even after caffeine, but tonight I'm restless. Mom's sound asleep. It's a hot night and my attention is drawn to the water dripping outside on the air conditioner, from the air conditioner in the apartment above...drip, drip, drip, hour after hour. So my pillow and I moved into the living room onto the couch, where the dripping wasn't as loud. But now I could clearly hear what was keeping me awake, my own thoughts: "Can I be available for Mom and work? How am I going to find an affordable apartment in this city? Can I find an apartment nearby? How can I find a part-time job with flexible hours? Will she eat my cooking? Will she appreciate my being here? One after another thoughts bombarded me, keeping me so busy until I dozed off from exhaustion.

First Impressions

Have been in New York for only a short period and my ability to determine who is human and who are the robots, is still not fine-tuned.

Some, almost all, are attached to wires that emanate from their ears and swing to and fro in front of their bodies as they move forward. Colorful blinking devices hooked onto their ears must distinguish their model as the colors differ, and what seems to be a generator hooked onto their waist, appears to be what keeps them going and responding to the commands they're receiving over their devices. So focused are they, their heads  bowed down, their eyes staring, glaring at the device they hold in their hand, guiding them so as not to bump into another of themselves. Some of these robots are connected by a leash of varying lengths, to a live four-legged creature, which oftentimes appears to be pulling them along. The creatures communicate through making horrendous high-pitched sounds and are effective at guiding their companion through the maze of streets in this densely robot populated metropolis.