New NYC Blog
I re-started my NYC Blog.
Bookmark it. Love it. Pass it on to your friends.
Diary of a single girl in NYC with a small drinking problem. I constantly learn life lessons but am too hungover to realize them. Follow me as I chronicle every one of my screw ups for your reading pleasure! Email livinginchinesegitmo (at) yahoo (dot) com
I re-started my NYC Blog.
I am here.
I decend upon England Sept 27 at 6am in the morning.
There is something beautiful about sunrise in the city. An otherwise fast-paced hectic metropolis becomes this idyllic almost sleepy-town, slowly waking to another day. The exorexiacs are heading off to the gym—I have never seen more fit people in my neighborhood, I guess this is where they hide—the nice El Salvadorian men saying hello to me as I realize my boobs are hanging out of my tank top. Everything that characterizes this city still happens, but at a slower pace.
And then I go inside and put on the tv and realize that if I don’t want to watch news, the only alternative is Barney.
See, the reason why I am awake at 6:45am, typing away, is because I need to fight with the Ox about my student loans. It appears that there was a small problem with the mail and getting it to the place that it needs to be processed. I spent the entire weekend worried, crying all day today that I may not be able to get my student loans in time for me to apply for my student visa, because NYS has not acknowledged that they have received the paper work from the school.
In my fit of freaking out, I couldn’t sleep until I spoke to them.
So I call them, without sleep at 9am British time—4am NYC time. I got schooled this morning in a lesson in British culture.
See, I call the college and speak to the woman who deals with loans. Keep in mind I am an exuberant and emotional fucker. Little things excite me. Most people, rather most Americans, think this is adorable. I mean, how many 24yr olds jump up and down and get excited about little things. I find out from chatting to the woman that my fears are unfounded and that a paper stating that I am eligible to receive loans will be sufficient for me to get my visa, so I can leave the country next Tuesday as planned.
In my excitement, I say, which is a very Shannon-esque thing to say, “Oh my God, that is such fabulous news, I love you!”
Of course I love the woman who is telling me that I was being an emotional freak for nothing. She is taken aback and begs me to calm down.
Uhm, “calm down”? Because I told her in an exuberant manner that I was happy with the news?
They must think I am on a cocaine binge.
I wonder how that will work out when I run for social chair of the college.
I got my wish and went to a fashion show.
Maybe, the reason I've had nothing to write is because it is the end of this story. The character has become developed, she found her purpose, gave up her drinking and self-exploitative ways, and has settled down.
With so many things on my mind, trying to get everything in order for my venture overseas, the blog postings have sucked. I'll admit it. It's just not a high priority for me at the moment, instead I'd rather chain smoke and worry whether I have enough money in my bank account to satisfy the Brits for my visa.