Who's watching the island?

Let me start with a disclaimer: I never set out to become one of those people. You know the ones I'm talking about. I didn't intend for it to happen...I mean, for goodness sake, I was born and raised in Georgia. I've traveled throughout the world. I am by no means a native New Yorker. But somehow, throughout the course of the last eight months, I have become one of those people.

I have become a Manhattan snob, afraid to leave the island for fear that I won't be able to leave a trail of crumbs long enough to find my way back.

Saturday night, Erin's coworker friend Johnny Wisconsin (who apparently has a real last name, too?) and his roommate Ryan threw a Mardi Gras bash. Evites were sent, food, drink and beads were promised, and we were all told to bring our party pants. We were all on board until the realization struck us: The party was in Hoboken. Hoboken, NJ. That's a totally different state, people. I feel like I'm taking a field trip when I go to Yankee Stadium or the Target in Brooklyn, but New Jersey?!

Luckily for me, I would be making the trek with three dear, smart, Southern-turned-Manhattan snobs as well, Erin, Angie and Michelle. Keep in mind - we have all lived here somewhere between 6 months and a year and a half and were all transplanted from Florida, Georgia or Alabama. Needless to say, we are not well-versed in the ins and outs of long- or short-distance travel to and from NYC.

We all met at Port Authority where we set out to embark to Hoboken. (Never mind the fact that you could probably spit on the city limits from the Meatpacking District; the subway doesn't go there, so as far as I'm concerned, it's a mini-vacation.) Our first hurdle came when we were informed that the bus that we would be taking only takes exact change - exact $2.30 change. The four of us quickly convened to realize that we collectively had two $20s, a $10, three $1s and something to the tune of 12 cents. What to do? Idea #1: Ask the man at the newsstand to break our $20. Idea #1 hitch: Man at the newsstand can't open the cash register without a purchase. Idea #1b: Buy a pack of gum. Success! Advance to round two, the purchasing of the bus tickets. Turns out, on the Port Authority side, you can buy the bus tickets on a machine with a credit card, so the gum was in vain. Or not, because we all four had minty fresh breath for the remainder of the evening.

With our four tickets in hand, we ventured to the Hoboken-bound bus. It promptly arrived, we boarded, and alas, we found ourselves riding to another land. Although the other land was only a seven minute bus ride away, we felt like we were on Presidents Day Weekend Excursion '07. We crossed the Hudson, looked back, and saw the City glowing. Bye bye, Manhattan. Hello, New Jersey.

The next small hitch came when we realized we didn't quuuiiite know where to get off. We had the Evite that told us to go to the "3rd or 4th stop" and look for "the restaurant with the black awning." Hmm. Thanks for the clear and specific directions, party planners. We turned to our left and asked the gentleman beside us if he knew how to get to 12th and Washington. Much to our chagrin, though, his response was, "That's where I'm going, too...I was kind of following you." Bust.

We went with stop #4 (which by the way, was not quite as close as stop #3, begging the question of why the directions didn't just say to take stop #3), immediately spotted the black awnings, and proceeded to have a splendid evening in Wisconsin's fabulous Hoboken apartment, chock-full of Mardi Gras beads and streamers, brownies and guacamole, and a steady stream of fantastic music. (Note: Hoboken certainly has its perks, primarily in the real estate arena - John and Ryan's shared closet is twice the size of my bedroom, they have two fireplaces, and outside their window is a magnificent view of the Manhattan skyline...all for a fraction of my shoebox apartment's rent.) After a few hours of eating, cheerleading, and state capitals games, we then ventured out on the town to the local bar. Johnny said they were trying to be friends with the folks there, kind of like in "Cheers," but it hadn't been working out so well so far. Nevertheless, we danced our hearts out to Bon Jovi, Shakira and the sorts and then headed back to Wisconsin's place.

At this point, we reached our next small snag. The Manhattan-bound bus had already stopped running for the night, and we were nowhere near the PATH train that could take us home. After all our fears about leaving Manhattan, the unimaginable had come true - we were stranded in Hoboken! Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Actually friends (and by friends, I mean mom and grandma who are probably passing out in their desk chairs right about now), we were not in the midst of any type of jungle animal whatsoever. And we were lucky enough to be at an apartment with plenty of space and a futon - oh yes, a futon - to accommodate all four of us. Never mind the fact that the light from Manhattan poured in through the windows like sun itself, or that we used beach towels as pillows...we were safe and sound, albeit far away from home sweet home. And by far away, I mean a swimmable distance...although if Meredith Grey couldn't swim herself to the shore, I'm pretty sure we couldn't either.

We awoke the next morning refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle the world. Okay, not really...we awoke stiff and sore with cricks in our necks and blinded by the sunlight and only-slightly-lesser light of the City that glowed from across the Hudson. But one thing was for certain - we were ready to go home. We quickly gathered the troops, stopped in for some coffee and strawberry milk (partially to wake up, mostly to break our $20s for bus fare), and boarded the bus. In seven minutes flat, we stepped off the bus onto firm, Manhattan soil...probably what expatriates feel when they return home after decades abroad. Or not. Either way, it was good to venture to the other side of the river, good to play in Hoboken for a night, and good to find our way back home.


Samantha: "All of Manhattan is here!"
Stanford: "Who's watching the island?"


(Please see bigappleangie.blogspot.com for more detail on the events of the evening..."WTF? GSM! OMG! LOL!")