other nice things this week:
wine (alone), heels (scary), karaoke (k-town), burger (plate), masterclass (zoom)
other not so nice things this week:
i woke up this morning and found a squished mini roach in my bed </3
8. August
14.54
vinduespladsen på den høje stol,
cup of brooklyn
i dag er her endelig koldt
min rundetårns-fleece har bare ligget og kedet sig inde i skabet
jeg har bare svedt
købt nyt tøj bare for at ku afdække så meget hud som muligt
not today
lynet helt op til halsen
blød, blød,
et kram til min efterhånden semi-hudsultne krop
en københavner-ven der kommer og lægger sig oven på mig
Ovenpå mit håndled med guldarmbåndet som nogen komplimenterede ude foran Bossanova ved 04-tiden
ovenpå min mave, der måske kan blive trænet lidt op i blink-fitness skråt overfor caféen her
ovenpå mine arme, som næsten ingen har rørt ved
ovenpå min ryg, som kun dagsturs-rygsækken har været i nærheden af
den er helt sort og anonym og har lynlås og lommer og jeg kan gemme mig, føle at jeg har en hemmelighed,
i dag er jeg ikke identitetsløs i en by der er større end jeg forstår,
i dag er jeg en hemmelig dansker med en perfekt temperatur, hverken luftfugtig eller koldsvedig,
helt lun og rar og blød
med et logo på ryggen som de andre ikke forstår
bare i dag er jeg en alien in new york og i morgen kan jeg fortsætte med at føle at jeg faktisk passer ret godt ind her
i dag behandler jeg new york som om den var mit hjem
bushwick som var det nørrebro
blink som var det puregym
filterkaffen som var den fra Mønten
stilladset foran vinduet som hang der en airtox-reklame på det
husnumrene som var de opdelt i lige og ulige
vent
det er de måske
jeg går ikke ud og tjekker det,
for der er lidt for køligt
jeg sidder herinde i stedet og nyder stuetemperaturen der findes i rummet mellem fleece og hud
Og i morgen kan New York være New York igen og jeg kan være en lillebitte fisk på eventyr
i dag er jeg bare
en stor makrel der ved, hvor den skal svømme hen
/
August 8th
14:54
window seat on the tall chair,
cup of Brooklyn
today it’s finally cold
my Round Tower-fleece have been sitting in my closet all bored
I’ve been all sweaty
bought new clothes in order to clear as much skin at possible
not today
zipped it all the way up to my neck
soft, soft,
a hug for my skin that’s starting to crave other skin
a friend from Copenhagen arriving to embrace me
embracing my wrist with the golden bracelet that someone complimented in front of Bossanova around 4 am
embracing my stomach that’ll potentially get fit inside the blink-fitness across from here
embracing my arms that next to no one has touched
embracing my back that’s only been seeing my daytrip-rucksack
it’s all black and anonymous and has zippers and pockets and I can hide, feeling like I have a secret,
today I’m not without identity in a city larger than I understand
today I’m a secret Dane with a perfect temperature, neither damp nor cold sweaty
all warm and nice and soft
with a logo on the back that the others don’t understand
just for today, I’m an alien in New York and tomorrow I can continue feeling that actually,
I fit in here quite well,
today I’ll be treating New York like it’s my home
Bushwick like it’s Nørrebro
Blink like it’s Puregym
the drip coffee like I got it at Mønten
the scaffolding outside the window like an aritox-banner was attached to it
the numbers on the houses like they’re divided in evens and odds
wait
they might be
I won’t be going out to check,
cause it’s a little too cold outside
I’ll be in here instead, enjoying the perfect temperature that exists in the space between the fleece and my skin
and tomorrow New York will be New York again, and I can be a tiny fish searching for an adventure,
and today I’ll just be
a large mackerel, knowing exactly where to swim
Stuff I’ve acquired in New York during the first 2 weeks:
– Club entrance: Mood ring (dan paid, $15) –
– Club entrance: bossanova (I paid for dan as well, $20 total) –
– Club entrance: Le Bain (free) –
– Entrance: The Tiny Cupboard comedy club ($15 + season pass for $5 extra) –
– Ticket: screening of “The rebellious life of Mrs. Rosa Parks” (free) –
– Entrance: Cooper-Hewitt museum ($10 with the student discount) –
– Ticket: Books are magic-store event: “In conversation with” Kate Weinberg x Kiley Reid ($10,80 but will be refunded as gift card to book store) –
– Ticket: The Moth story slam “Rejection” ($15.46) –
– Subscription: The New Yorker (digital and print, $26.20) –
– Clothes: black sports bra/cute top: $5 (used) –
– Clothes: pink tank top: $5 (used) –
– Clothes: black punky skirt: $7 (used) –
– Clothes: pink sporty shorts/skirt: $18 (used) –
– Necklace: $8 (used) –
– Book: Such a Fun Age, Kiley Reid: $5 (used) –
– Book: Come and get it, Kiley Reid: $29 (new) –
– Book: Just Kids, Patti Smith: $8 (used) –
– Beverages at cafés: 9 (?)x $5 (average)= $45 (?) –
– Food: ???? a lot but also a lot of simple things like (nice) granola, eggs, avocados, milk –
– Beers/cocktails/wine: (???? More than I thought I think, but also people have given me free stuff so it’s only gonna get worse from here) –
– Metrocard 1 week: $36 (? Don’t remember) –
– Metrocard single fares/refill on card: $18 (?) –
– Laundry + drying: $8,5 (still have some left on my laundry card) –
– Bike + lock + helmet: $326 (bike used, the rest new) –
– Shower scrubby thing: $6 (?) –
– Glue traps for bugs: $4 –
– Fees for taking out money in ATMs: 120 DKR (?) –
Other expenses:
– Storage unit w. all my belongings in DK: 1038 DKR –
– Insurance: 1234,83 DKR –
– Phone bill: 119 DKR –
yesterday, I walked on Columbus Avenue
it was different
I think it’s very much the trees for me
I walked to the place that’ll be my home in a month and a half
September 14th I’ll be moving into Academic Guest House
on West 74th
so I went there
and went up the steps
and looked inside, through the glass door, through the gates, someone approached me
immediately embarrassed but not overwhelmingly so, because I do actually have a reason to be there,
wonderful, isn’t it? To have a reason that’s easily articulated for being somewhere,
(not like that shit shot at border control, that was top ten embarrassingly incompetent moments for me, feeling the English word slip back into my throat, down my stomach and out through the bottom as pure, incoherent shit)
so she opened the door, her eyes asking me why I’m being such a creep,
I said “is this academic guest house?”
she blinked and answered in Danish
such a sweet person, I thought, immediately, and not only friendly but-
she knew who I was
like, she remembered my name
she knew I was one of the artists
she told me how she was almost certain I’d be given one of the small apartments because some of the other students have to stay indoors a lot to write massive phd’s, and they figured I’d be out and about
Goddamn right you are
I’ll be out and about
I’m able to afford this because of this beautiful, over the top quiet and aircon’d mansion,
is what I thought,
she called it “Frederiksberg” and laughed,
(If you know you know but if you don’t I’ll just let you know it’s the opposite of Brønshøj and Brønshøj is seemingly Bushwick;
not the Privet Drive-part of Brønshøj,
the main street with the scammy bike shops where the number on the bike frame doesn’t match with the one on the receipt)
I laughed and completely agreed
the back of my head going theme song from Hannah Montana season 1 through 4
Everyone tells me the same
literally two different worlds
how did I get this lucky? I thought as I left her, many thanks and I’ll be seeing you’s later,
as I checked the prices on the menu of the closest pizzeria,
(kept on walking,
romantic daydream vanishing as quickly as it’d arrived)
as I bought a turquoise shower-scrubby-thing in what’s about to be my local supermarket a lifetime from now,
as I looked at the street signs and almost stopped walking, realizing Sesame Street is an actual road right there to the left,
as I looked right and saw the Lincoln Center, feeling hopeful that I might have a reason to go there in a few months other than as an audience,
I went along Columbus Avenue as a resident-to-be, touristy-ly taking photos of restaurants I’m gonna wanna visit, tall mirror-like buildings that let the clouds continue their way across the blue sky, slightly deformed by square surfaces,
eyebrows raised at yet another Trump building,
(how many does he need in this city??)
finding my way down the stairway and swiping the metro card that doesn’t work even though I bought it only hours previously,
sweatily descending more stairs,
finding a seat in the wooden, divided benches that won’t allow neither overweight nor homeless people,
trying not to cause a scene when fanning myself with the massive opening night-gift ages ago in South Carolina,
entering the cool metro,
opening the book I’ve been craving since I first read that she was writing a new one a year ago,
deciding to skip the two subway changes and walk the 15 minutes from Ralph instead,
exiting the train,
ascending the stairs,
assessing the geography of the place I thought would look more familiar to me,
finding my way towards the train track,
buying a gallon
(??? The second-largest plastic container)
of milk in a deli,
carrying everything;
book, milk, bag, fan, two different senses of home,
sweating while doing so
pressing the code to the door
climbing the stairs
reaching for the key I left under the mat in case I’d managed to get robbed during the day and lose the only other one,
finding refuge inside the airconditioned
home
of the last week of July
all of August
and the first two weeks of September
screenshot: last night at mood ring
slowly beginning to grasp
that I’m not living in bushwick
I’m living in new York city
Bushwick is my temporary home but
this,
this is it
found a bike on marketplace last night
arranged to come check it out this morning
spoke on the phone all the way along the J-train tracks
‘till I saw the street name and thought, oh, this looks like something I’ve seen on tv,
sat on the stoop and waited for a guy I didn’t know to check his phone
the guy was nice and the bike was beautiful
the bike was too small
googled mapsed other bike shops and recognized one I’d checked out the day before
decided to walk
realized I wasn’t in Bushwick anymore, that I approached bed-stuy, the place my friend’s dj-friends are living,
a fire(?) acted sprinkler and I wondered whether someone did it on purpose to wash their car or if it was just accidentally bumped by something heavy
a helicopter is soaring over me as I’m typing this,
remembering last time I was here and it took us a week to realize they aren’t police officers chasing criminals in cars,
they’re offering a tourism service, who wouldn’t wanna see Manhattan from above?
and so I kept on walking, decidedly not checking my phone until I saw the street name “Ralph”, checked, turned right, turned left, saw the bikes on the pavement or is it called sidewalk, I forgot which one is british, and there he was, the guy
JC
“those are my initials”
I told him my price range was that I’d found another bike yesterday to $400
immediately regretted it
because the whole reason I didn’t go back to the $400 bike was to pay less than $400
he said,
this one is your size
and it’s 250
I felt like I had made a friend and a knot untied in my gut
a beautiful man and his two beautiful girls bought a plastic air pump to make sure their basketballs were game-ready
I bought the bike
I bought a lock
I bought a bell
I bought a helmet
it was less than $400 dollars
I took not just one photo of him but he took multiple of me
asked for a review
there’s nothing I’d rather do
I hadn’t taken enough money out of the atm because I hadn’t considered I’d need a helmet
so I didn’t have $330
I had $326
and it was fine
this guy,
I wanna go back and make a documentary about him
im sure he’s like this with everybody
he said, first thing,
“this isn’t really a bike shop, it’s a talk…” and he wasn’t even bullshitting me
he reminded me of my old bartender-boss
“a happy employer makes for a good business, that’s just common sense”
JC told me it had taken a long time to build the business like this
not pushing product on people
not getting them to buy stuff they don’t need
but now they’re returning over and over and over
closed for 4 months each year but when we re-open,
he said,
people are waiting by the doors to go inside
I want an invitation
how can I be one of those people, relaxedly attached and part of the non-bikeshop bikeshop,
I really do not have any friends here yet, I am aware, it will come, this guy, JC, he’s with me now wherever I go,
because I bought the bike
And it’s a mountainbike
And it’s got gears ( <3 apparently a hard find in the used-bike market I’ve learned),
and it’ll take me onto sidewalks and tall curbs,
cause it’s a mountainbike and I’m a good rider cause I’m from Denmark, no not the Netherlands, yes the Netherlands have amazing agriculture I guess but so do we, oh, yes, the tulips and the river from the alps, yep for sure that’s not us that’s the Netherlands, but similar biking cities so I’ll be able to get my way around here I thought
and I motherfucking did
I tell you
following road signs and intuition and using the skyscraper in the distance to mark what I’m fairly sure must be DUMBO,
refusing to check your phone
because you’re not??? In a hurry?? To do??? Aaaaanything
it’s just me
and this bike that I’ve bought
with my absolute last cash
and I found downtown Brooklyn
and I found a café
there’s music outdoors
two American women speaking at the table next to me on the other side of the little cute fence with the plastic plants
it might be a job interview
I bought an ice coffee
refilled my bottle of water
im gonna be here for a long time, yo
and when I decide to leave
I’ll hop onto my bike
And go wher-e-v-e-r I want
probably not Bushwick today
slightly closer to being a person today. day 2. almost bought a bike, was fucked over by the atms, had to leave and found another one on fb marketplace (fingers crossed, tomorrow will tell). was told by someone other than myself to chill and enjoy not being a full person yet. it hasn’t even been 48 hours and i’ve got food in the fridge, have unpacked, decorated my room, walked around the neighbourhood, had a vegan zucchini muffin at what’s bound to be my regular café and re-designed and created most of the content on this website. but when you haven’t got any friends yet it seems like there’s suddenly a lot of time on your hands. i couldn’t help but wonder: is it ok to binge sex and the city for 5 hours instead of 1 and is that what i should do tomorrow?
23rd July
Copenhagen–>New York City (left).
I landed in New York Stewart International Airport which made my roommate (right) say that yes, while that is definitely New York State is is definitely not New York City, but basically “upstate”. I’m excited to learn what all these geography terms means when said by someone else than SATC-characters.
