Apparently in Brooklyn, the Snow Melts into Trash

ALL RIGHT I’ll blog! How can I be so bad at this? Oh well, never mind. Let’s get reacquainted. Last we spoke, I had just finished my first week of my first semester of grad school. Yesterday I finished my third week of my second semester. It’s safe to say a bit of time has gone by.

I have now lived in Brooklyn for exactly 7 months. In Rob years, that’s a pretty long time. The novelty finally wore off somewhere around month 4, and I was able to settle in and enjoy New York in a more subtle way. And then winter came a-blustering in. Thankfully, I was in Texas for the first awful wave of it, the “snowpocalypse,” but the following weeks have not been much fun either. I swear to you, even this mid-February afternoon, there is still snow on our sidewalks from the December 26^th blizzard.

The many-feet-high mounds of snow quickly became just another permanent part of the urban landscape. Of course it’s normal to peer over 5-foot snow hills in order to see if it’s safe to cross the street; that’s how it’s always been, and how it ever more shall be. The worst part of sidewalk snow is the unspoken system of etiquette that necessarily sets in when the only path through the snow is barely a foot wide. Everyone else seems to know when to let someone else pass, or when it’s their turn, or hey, there’s plenty of path here for the both of us to pass each other easily. I gave up after about a week.

I’m actually not sure if I can refer to the substance that lines the sidewalks as snow anymore. It’s black and spotted, and seems to acquire more strength the longer it lies around. I walk outside by a three-foot mound of blackness and say sternly, “It’s 43 degrees right now. According to science, you should not be here anymore.” No luck.

But we have had some seriously beautiful weather this last week, and the crowded streets of Brooklyn are slowly melting. Well that’s nice. No more snow. But as the title of this post suggests, there are things in that snow—evils that have been kept hidden for months, soggying in their filthy frozen piles—which rising temperatures now reveal. It has created a street side situation which only Winston could be excited about. And just this week he got sicker than he’s ever been before, all thanks to the feast he finds lining the sidewalks these days. I try to stop him, but really there’s just too much grossness lying about to make any kind of difference.

|Winston, back when he was well and snow was white|

Oh I quit my job at the hotel, a really long time ago. Now I’m substitute teaching in Brooklyn. As you can guess, the stories I have are enough for a whole other blog post.

Grad school is going really well. I finished up last semester with fine grades and am pressing on. The only issue now looming over my head is the NYC hiring freeze in public schools. It went into effect in 2009, and most people thought it’d be lifted by now. From what I can tell, no one’s very hopeful about the future. The freeze means no new teachers can be hired, except at brand new schools (which are naturally extremely competitive positions), so the atmosphere in my program is a little strange. Education classes are made up of two kinds of students: those already teaching, and those (of us) who have no hope of getting a job. Cheery stuff.

That’s it for now. I’m about to head to the New York Public Library to check out an exhibit on Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Should be interesting. Seriously, I’ll try to blog more. No, Seriously!

Class Time

They say you’re not truly a New Yorker until you’ve seen a dead guy on the subway. As of this writing, I’m happy to say, I’m definitely still not a New Yorker. Actually, it was Lynda, my advisor at Brooklyn College, who told me that. She was born and raised in Brooklyn and has surely seen her share of subway remains. It was with her total helpfulness that I was able to make it through my first week of grad school. My first class was Monday night, and all that day I felt a little apprehensive and seriously unprepared. I knew things would probably go well, but I really had no idea what to expect. After leaving work, I was going to meet with Lynda to discuss substitute teaching. My plans of getting to campus quickly were undone first when I was kept at work later than usual, and second because of some problem at one of the stations along my route. Sitting motionless on a subway car with a tight schedule to keep can be maddening. Also, my friend Kathryn from Austin was with me, and I wanted to have time to show her around a little before class. I finally made it to Brooklyn College, spoke with Lynda, and had just enough time to run home and get my things before heading back to class.

By the time I got back to campus I was frustrated and anxious to see what school was going to be like. Once class started, however, my frustrations and anxieties left my mind as I eased back slowly into the student life. The class is Contemporary American Poetry, and the professor is fantastic. We’ll be studying mostly experimental poetry from the 60’s on, and Dr. Viscusi seems to have seen and experienced a lot of important developments from the period. It sounds like he knew or at least met a lot of the big names; for example, he taught with Allen Ginsberg, who I was stoked to find out was actually a professor at Brooklyn College until he passed away in 1997. Maybe I can become a beatnik as well as an English teacher. Dr. Viscusi spent about an hour introducing the class, and I was pretty much riveted the entire time. I’m definitely going to love that class. Tuesday nights I have my education class. It’s more practical, and I’ll be developing lesson plans and doing 20 hours of actual class observations. I can’t say I’m going to love this one, but it’s taught by a high school principal, so he’ll have a lot of informed and helpful advice. Wednesday night’s English class wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be, and I’m hoping to switch it with something different. What I needed was a class on literary criticism, but this one seems to be more about writing short reviews like you might read in a newspaper. I’m hoping to get into a Postcolonial Literature and Theory class. I’ll keep you posted.

It feels so great to be on a college campus again, going to class and working toward something worthwhile. I already love Brooklyn College. It fits me very well. With almost 16,000 students it definitely dwarfs LCU, but my professors seem very accessible and helpful.

Everything else is going well. Apparently there is a huge Labor Day parade going down this Monday a few blocks from our apartment, so I’m sure I’ll have some blogworthy experiences come next week. Adios.

I saw this today on my bike ride home and thought it was cool. Also, I figured out how to post pictures. But, the picture I took of my bike still won't work. Maybe later.

Brooklyn Rob Goes to College

and other developments since July

I won’t start this post with an apology for how long it’s been since I last blogged. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, Internet. Anyway, a lot has changed since I saw you last. Today makes six weeks in Brooklyn. It really hasn’t been near as difficult to adjust as I might have thought. Everything is different, for sure, but so far I haven’t encountered anything too tough to overcome.

By now I know everyone is dying for me to get on with it and address the one glaring question on their minds, and the answer is yes, I got a bike. A beautiful, light, new and shiny bike. If I knew how to post pictures on this thing, you could see her now.

Like right here.

But I don’t. It’s awesome though. I bought it in the boonies, way out east of Queens, at a place called Roberts Bicycles. I earned my stripes coming back, too. It was over ten miles from up there back down to the apartment, and I didn’t really know where I was going the whole time. That was pretty brutal. I probably got more exercise that day than in the entire last year. I made it safely back, though, and now I’ve been riding that puppy all over the city. I’ve even ridden to work a few times, which includes an incredible stint over the Brooklyn Bridge. When I ride over that bridge I probably feel more at home than anytime else, especially when there are a bunch of tourists I can yell at to get out of my way. Having a bike here seems comparable to having a car in other places. It’s really the best way to get around a lot of the time. I’m still searching for a way to transport Winston on bike so I can walk him through cool places.

I’ve done some cool free stuff, too, like seeing a Q&A with Maggie Gyllenhaal  and Emma Thompson at the Apple Store in SoHo. They were talking about Nanny McPhee Returns, of course, but Erin and I were on the third row and it was sweet. Erin and I also saw a taping of David Letterman last week. That was totally awesome. The guest was Brian Williams of NBC Nightly News, and it was a really interesting interview. They joked around, but also talked at length about many current issues. Oh we also saw Much Ado About Nothing in Central Park. That was fantastic. I’ve wandered around the city a good bit, too. It’s nice just riding around on the bike.

The big news, of course, is that within the last two days I have been accepted to, registered for classes at, and officially started my master’s program with Brooklyn College! It’s been pretty crazy stuff. Originally I had been planning to start this fall, but a few of my application materials never found their way to BC, so I kind of assumed I was too late and set my sights on spring or other options. Well, Wednesday night I was sitting alone at the apartment when my iPhone piped up to tell me I had a new email. I was pretty shocked when I looked and saw it was from Brooklyn College, and they were congratulating me on being accepted to start this fall. The email came at around six, and the Admissions Office was open until seven, so I hopped on my bike and headed down. They said I was totally cleared to register (except for a shot record, which would prove to be a near insurmountable technicality), and so yesterday I spent a good five hours on campus getting everything arranged. It might have taken even less time, but eventually, after calling every place imaginable, I had to give up and get a shot from the clinic because a certain Christian university, which I will respectfully leave here nameless, somehow misplaced my immunization record.

I’ll be pursuing an MA English Teacher in secondary education. The program is a great mix of what I’ve been looking for; I’ll be taking 18 hours of grad English courses, 24 hours of education courses, and spend a year student teaching in the mornings. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be certified and ready to teach in two years. The women in the education department were incredibly great, and with their help I was able to take care of all the essentials yesterday. I start this upcoming week, and will go to class Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings. It’s going to feel very strange starting class again after a more than three year break, but I can’t wait. 

There you have it, my city life thus far. Starting next week I should be pretty busy, but I’ll try to keep posting with my usual frequency (which is to say, with no frequency at all). Cheers.

Starting a Job and Adjusting

You can’t hope to live in New York City long without a steady income, but it sure would be nice. Initially, as I was making plans to move to Brooklyn, I figured I would just transfer to a Starbucks somewhere in the area. Once I found out the pay here is not much more than anywhere else, I had to move to plan B. John and Michael both work for the restaurant at a hotel in Times Square, and were able to get me a job in the coffee shop there. I don’t have a set schedule yet, but when I do work, it’s from 6 am to 2 pm, usually about 5 days a week. Sounds pretty awful, but in Austin I was working from 5 am regularly, so it’s not a huge change.

Starting a new job is never fun. Last Monday was my first day, and it just so happened to fall on the hotel's one-day-a-year corporate inspection, so basically the most stressful day of the year for everyone there. That about set the tone for my first week. I found out that I definitely can’t have a beard, and in fact must be completely clean shaven every day I work. Long story short: I walked in that day with a beard, walked out with a bare chin. But, I get a paycheck every Friday, which means tomorrow will be my first payday. I’m sure it will help ease the pain a little.

There are small differences that are taking some getting used to here. The most prominent so far is changing my perception of distances. Without a car, a small line on google maps can easily become an hour ordeal. For example: it usually takes me about 45 minutes to an hour to commute to or from work. I looked up the directions online and was pretty shocked to see that the entire journey is less than 9 miles. Sitting here in my apartment in Brooklyn I seriously feel a world away from Manhattan, but the distance from here to Central Park is no more than I would drive to the nearest Half Price Books in Austin.

I have also had to switch gears in terms of the small conveniences I used to take for granted. There are no Walmarts in New York City. That’s pretty surprising and somehow reassuring, actually. The closest thing I have is a Target, and without a bike it’s really a minimum two hour experience with the subway. Again, the Target is only 1.5 miles away from my apartment. There are tons of small grocery stores around here though, sometimes two per block. I guess I’ll have to start relying on them more for little things.

I’ve had yesterday and today off and it’s been wonderful. I was able to get a bed on Sunday and a desk chair yesterday. My room is finally in some form of order. My friend Erin and I went to an art opening at MoMA Monday night and it was great. We were hoping to see a famous person or two since it was an exclusive thing, but no luck. Guess I’ll just have to keep my eyes open for the stars around town. 

One Week in Brooklyn

It’s Saturday, and that means I officially survived my first seven days in New York City. With driving up, moving in to my third story apartment, starting a job in Manhattan, navigating the subway and walking about ten times more than I’m used to, it was one of the craziest weeks in recent memory. I guess that’s what I get for trying to take my small bite out of the Big Apple.

The week started with the end of a long, 1,500 mile journey my mom and I made from Dallas. We rented a car, loaded it with all my earthly belongings, and set out with Winston in tow. We drove about eleven hours both Wednesday and Thursday, getting up at 6:30 each morning and hitting the road by 7. Mom was a trooper and got us going, I definitely couldn’t have kept that schedule by myself. We were both pretty surprised at how easily and quickly the trip went. Wednesday night we made it to Nashville, then Thursday somewhere in West Virginia. Friday we had only five hours left to drive, and at around noon we pulled into a parking space on the corner of my new home in Brooklyn.

Thankfully John and Michael were home when we arrived, and we spent our first half hour as roommates sharing in the deep bond of heavy lifting. I was quickly acquainted with the two flights of stairs that now see me off and welcome me home each day. The third floor ain’t no picnic. Naturally, New York was and is still in the middle of an unseasonable heat wave, so moving was extra fun for everyone.

Mom’s flight didn’t leave until Sunday, and since she had never seen Manhattan we spent all Saturday hitting just about every high point possible in one day. I’ll say this: bus tours may single you out as shameless tourists among the scowling residents below, but they are a relaxing and simple way to take in New York City in all her glory. We went all around downtown and Times Square, and even took the Staten Island Ferry (which is totally free) and sailed past the Statue of Liberty and the beautiful city skyline. That night Mom, Melissa (John’s wife, my third roommate), my friend Erin and I went out to dinner at an little Italian restaurant in uptown that Melissa suggested.

Sunday, after seeing mom safely off on her La Guardia bound taxi, Melissa and I went into Chelsea to hear a reading by David Mitchell from his novel The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet. Afterward we walked along the High Line, an old raised railroad converted into a city park. I felt very metropolitan. That night I came back to the apartment and did absolutely nothing for a few hours, trying my best to recuperate from the exhaustion of moving and preparing myself for work at 6 am the next day.

That’s right. I started my new job only three days after uprooting and moving halfway across the country. It was not easy. I’ll go into more detail in my next post; suffice it to say that I survived, but only just.

I have Saturday and Sunday off, and my goal for the weekend is to get a bed and a bike. Things are going very well so far, and I can’t wait to see what all the city has in store for its brand new small town Texan resident.