I haven't written anything for so many months, that it's almost impossible to select a starting point for this entry, and unless you are bloggin reluctantly every second you can, an entry needs one.
I could start, perhaps, at the time of our move to New York, that would be a good one: 2005, middle of June; my contract with Goodyear is over, there is nothing more to expect from Cleveland, we need to do something, and that something, according to Evelyna, is nothing less than just moving to New York. The logic was impeccable: it doesn't matter, where not to have a job, but there we will be together.
To those, who tried to rent an apartment in any of the boroughs, good luck. To those, who tried to rent an apartment without having a job, my condolences. To those, who succeeded, hats off.
I had one week, before my "current" pay stub would start to look suspicious at least. That explains (sort of), why we ended up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, and even that was not easy.
Knowing better now than I did back then, I would, probably, rather go for the neighborhood, where there's less than three hair/nail establishments per each block, and a bit more grass to walk the dogs, but, considering the circumstances, I think, I did well. And the place is big, which is a rare case for this city.
The neighborhood is OK, too; it only seemed hostile at first. I never thought of xenophobia as of something I had, but, apparently, there is a first time for everything. Mild case, but annoying nevertheless, although perfectly explainable - there are basically two kinds of species, inhabiting this neck of the woods: the ones, who go to those beauty shops, and the ones who own them. First kind is loud, cheerful and friendly; they like parties and loud music, they congregate for no apparent reasons around landmarks of any social significance, like phone booths, Laundromats, and staircases, where their kids play all the time up until bed time, which varies from 1 to 3 AM on a weekday. The second kind is serious and busy, they always walk fast, their men wear black hats, suites and coats, their women - long skirts, flat shoes and head scarves, and they all together make it impossible to find parking on Friday night, because they are not allowed to drive after dark, for it's already Saturday in their very old world.
Needless to say, that we don't blend in really well. May be, just OK, but not really well. On the other hand, it seems to be our way of doing things.
I could start, perhaps, at the time of our move to New York, that would be a good one: 2005, middle of June; my contract with Goodyear is over, there is nothing more to expect from Cleveland, we need to do something, and that something, according to Evelyna, is nothing less than just moving to New York. The logic was impeccable: it doesn't matter, where not to have a job, but there we will be together.
To those, who tried to rent an apartment in any of the boroughs, good luck. To those, who tried to rent an apartment without having a job, my condolences. To those, who succeeded, hats off.
I had one week, before my "current" pay stub would start to look suspicious at least. That explains (sort of), why we ended up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, and even that was not easy.
Knowing better now than I did back then, I would, probably, rather go for the neighborhood, where there's less than three hair/nail establishments per each block, and a bit more grass to walk the dogs, but, considering the circumstances, I think, I did well. And the place is big, which is a rare case for this city.
The neighborhood is OK, too; it only seemed hostile at first. I never thought of xenophobia as of something I had, but, apparently, there is a first time for everything. Mild case, but annoying nevertheless, although perfectly explainable - there are basically two kinds of species, inhabiting this neck of the woods: the ones, who go to those beauty shops, and the ones who own them. First kind is loud, cheerful and friendly; they like parties and loud music, they congregate for no apparent reasons around landmarks of any social significance, like phone booths, Laundromats, and staircases, where their kids play all the time up until bed time, which varies from 1 to 3 AM on a weekday. The second kind is serious and busy, they always walk fast, their men wear black hats, suites and coats, their women - long skirts, flat shoes and head scarves, and they all together make it impossible to find parking on Friday night, because they are not allowed to drive after dark, for it's already Saturday in their very old world.
Needless to say, that we don't blend in really well. May be, just OK, but not really well. On the other hand, it seems to be our way of doing things.