Tag Archives: Grand Central Station

Getting back on the horse

16 Thursday Aug 2018

Posted by in Daily Life, Dating, EX Files, Finding Me

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“Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs.”  – Charlotte Bronte

Since the upsetting email that G sent me I thought I would never speak to him again. Then he started texting me and I didn’t have it in me to ignore him.  I replied.

We started texting every single day as we had done before.  We didn’t work out as a couple but I still think he is a good person and worth of being friends with.

I had stayed away from online dating when I thought he and I could have a future together.  Now I am back at it again.  Some may think that I didn’t really care for him if I am been able to flip from girlfriend to just friend so quickly.

I did care.  I cared a lot.  I thought he was the One.  I had already envisioned a future together.  And then it all fell apart, for no apparent reason. I have 2 choices:  stay stuck there, on the mourning of a relationship or move on.

I am moving on.  I am not being cold.  I am being a realist.  I am saving myself time and energy.  If something doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work, move on.  There is no sense in spending time thinking about it, trying to reflect on what went wrong or why, or even dreaming about it working again.

I embraced thinking he was the One, now I am embracing him as a friend.

“Embrace who you are and your divine purpose. Identify the barriers in your life, and develop discipline, courage and the strength to permanently move beyond them, and keep moving forward.” – Germany Kent

I am back on Match and POF.  My first date since starting again was last night.

I went out with B, he is in Finance and works for a museum in New York City.

He chose an expensive Scandinavian restaurant called Agern located inside Grand Central Station.  I commute every day out of GCS and had never noticed it before. It is hidden in plain sight.

After taking a look at the menu and prices online I told him that perhaps he should choose a place more reasonable. He said that he heard good things about this restaurant and he was glad to take me there.

The ambiance was great, it was quiet and not too bright.  The service was amazing.  The food was good but nothing that I would be looking forward to eating again.  I guess fancy Scandinavian food is not for me.

We shared 2 appetizers, 3 entrees and 1 dessert. We had only one cocktail each and the bill was $250 with tip – I sneaked a peek as he was signing the credit card receipt.

B was such a great person. He was interested and interesting.  The conversation flowed.  Three hours went by and we didn’t even have a chance to talk about his favorite subject: music.

I didn’t get an initial romantic vibe from the date, but I think that a second date may be necessary to make sure.

He texted saying that he had a lovely time and would like to see me again. I said it would be great.

to be continued…

“If I cease searching, then, woe is me, I am lost. That is how I look at it – keep going, keep going come what may.” – Vincent van Gogh

Can beggars be choosers?

11 Thursday Jan 2018

Posted by in Daily Life, Food

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You probably heard the saying “Beggars can’t be choosers”, but can they?

This morning as I exited the train and was walking through the lower level of Grand Central Station I noticed that there was a man next to the ordering line at Zaro’s Bakery.  It seemed he was asking people in line for something.  I assumed he was asking for food.

I will stop dead in my tracks if I see someone that I think is hungry.

I approached cautiously as nowadays I cannot be sure of somebody’s mental state.  I have been yelled at before.

The following exchange ensued:

Me: Can I get you something?

He seemed unsure for a second but then he said:  tea with sugar

Me: Would you like something to eat?

Looking at the food cases displaying all kinds of pre-made sandwiches and other items, he said:  perhaps 2 boiled eggs.

Me: That is it? What about a sandwich?

He answered:  Perhaps some cheese.  If I get one of those (he pointed to a wrap sandwich) it will be a waste.  I don’t eat meat, lettuce, tomato, and those other stuff.

Then he added: I am homeless but I am a picky eater.

I smiled. Before I could say anything, the server, who had been waiting and listening to this exchange said: What about a grilled cheese?

He seemed thrilled with that suggestion and responded:  yes I like that!

I paid for the tea, eggs and grilled cheese and gave him the change.  I wished him a blessed day and walked away as he stayed and waited for his grilled cheese.

A choosy beggar made my day!

Now looking back, and perhaps if I was not one of those New Yorkers always in a hurry, I should have asked him the reason why he eats what he eats.  I should have asked him his name and his story.  I am always curious about how a person arrived at a certain situation.  I also want them to feel that someone cares.

Next time…

“I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy. I woke and I saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy.”  – Kahlil Gibran

 

Day 7: I carry it in my heart

29 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by in Daily Life, Finding Me

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I go through Grand Central Station every week day and it is normally a obstacle course trying to navigate it among the commuters and tourists.

Today it was very different.  This evening Grand Central Station was a ghost town with guards standing at the doors just letting people out and informing the people trying to get in that the station is closed.

I feel odd today.  I am not sure what to think.  Is this Hurricane Sandy a sure thing or just media hype? It feels weird leaving my apartment and my brand new table behind. Is everything going to be there in a couple of days when I return?

I am feeling weird sitting alone in a hotel room in New York City.  I am staying in Manhattan to be close to work since the trains stopped 7 pm tonight.  I am trying not to let the victim in me come out.  I am trying not to feel so alone in the most populous city in the USA.  At times like this is very hard not to feel all alone in the world. I need to snap out of it.

My favorite show, Amazing Race is on.  Today they are in Bangladesh, and seeing some of the day laborers working in such poor conditions, and seeing all the kids on the street with huge smiles on their faces snaps me out of the “poor me” mentality real quick.  I am blessed for so many reasons.  I have so many reasons to smile. More than the material comforts I have been blessed with a rich soul and a rich heart.

I know how to appreciate everything I have, specially my breath.  Having life is the greatest gift of all and that is enough!  So, to spend even a minute feeling sorry for myself it would be such a waste of precious time.   I don’t need to have people physically right next to me to know that I am loved.  My family is in my heart and in my thoughts and I am in theirs.

To quote E. E. Cummings:

“i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)”

 

hhhh

Why run?

01 Sunday Jul 2012

Posted by in Daily Life, Finding Me

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(pic google images)

Last Friday at Grand Central Station as I am stepping on the escalator, the woman ahead of me stepped aside and asked me if I wanted to go ahead of her.

I replied: No, thank you, that is ok, I am not in a hurry.

Her: I thought I saw you running

Me: I guess I was running, but I don’t even know why

Her: Well, it is because you are a New Yorker!

Me: I guess you are right

I wished her a good day and continued my rush to get to work.

This quick exchange left me with all kinds of thoughts.

1) I thought I didn’t care to belong.  When she called me a New Yorker I couldn’t help but feel happy and smile to myself.  I felt proud to be called a New Yorker.  That happy feeling was really eye opening.  Why am I happy to be called a New Yorker?  I happen to love New York and I feel lucky and grateful to work there.  Everyday as the train makes its way into Manhattan I thank God for the opportunity.  But I think the happiness I felt goes a little deeper than that.  I guess her comment made me feel I belonged.  I thought I didn’t care about being like an average New Yorker.  I often prided myself on not trying to fit, not wanting to be a cookie cutter.  I am proud of everything that makes me unique, my accent, the color of my skin, my curly hair, my curves, my easy smile, my carefree attitude. But I guess deep down inside I never lost that immigrant’s thirst to fit in.

Homework: Work on those hidden, buried feelings of not belonging.

2) Why run?  Why was I running, going very fast when I didn’t need to.  I happen to work in a place that has a very laid back attitude.  I don’t have a schedule, whenever I get there, I get there, so there is really no reason for me to rush to get there.   Why do I do it?  Do I only know one speed? the busy New Yorker speed?

I often thought that I ran and did things fast because I didn’t want to waste time and miss anything in life.  I want to get everything done and done fast.  I can see it clearly now that I am accomplishing the total opposite.  I am running through life, instead of living life. I am getting a lot done, I am getting quantity, but am I getting quality?

In the hurry not to miss a thing I am missing everything!  I am missing the details! And the beauty of life is made of the little details.

The irony is that I am always the one to point out to everyone that they should live in the moment, in the now.  In the meantime I am always living in the next moment.

Homework: Stop and smell the flowers!  Make a conscious effort to take smaller steps through life starting with literally taking smaller steps.

2) Is this running another symptom of ADD (Atenttion Deficit Disorder). I am slowly beginning to realize that I probably have ADD/ADHD.  I am often mentioned in the same sentence as ADD by people that know me.  It is often meant as a joke and to point out another one of my quirks.  But I am thinking it is probably not a joking matter.

Homework: Research ADD symptoms and treatments

What a blessing that woman was to me.  She may as well have been an angel sent to shake me up gently but deeply.

What about you? Are you running through life too?

How young is too young?

07 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by in Daily Life, Dating, Finding Me

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Animated Babies

(Picture courtesy of http://www.free-animations.co.uk)

I am sitting in the usual car of my usual train this morning playing with my phone when I have this feeling one gets when you have a pair of eyes on you.  I look up and I see this guy sitting 4 rows across from my seat staring at me.

I think to myself that dressing better on Thursdays is already paying off.

I don’t have to dress up for work.  As a matter of fact I could wear pajamas if I wanted to, but as a courtesy to my fellow train riders and my fellow New Yorkers I normally wear jeans or something as casual.

I wish I had a uniform so that I didn’t have to think of what to wear every morning (or the night before).  Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of clothes, specially now that I lost the chocolate weight and can get into a whole side of my closet that had been lying dormant for the past couple of years. I am just not creative when it comes to putting outfits together.

Because I know that if you dress better you feel better I figure I will start with dressing better on Thursdays, which happens to be my favorite day of the week. And hopefully that will get me motivated to add other days until, voila, I am dressing well the whole week!  Also, dressing better is a way of saying to the world, and most importantly to myself, that I matter enough to be concerned with how I look.

Anyway, going back to being stared at in the train…

This is a good looking young guy.  How young?  I am not sure, but I would venture a guess of low 30s.  Hummm, I am 46! So I am thinking to myself is he too young for me? Of course I am jumping the gun, for all I know he is staring at the lady behind me or next to me.

Why can’t I just relax and stare back?  Well, for beginners, I don’t know how. I don’t know how to sultrily look at any guy flirting with me. I am a big flirt but only after I met someone. The moment I have a stranger’s eyes on me I start either giggling or grinning like a Chesire cat.  I am sure guys are left scratching their heads thinking: what is wrong with her?  When I was a teen my sister would say:  Stop that grinning and giggling, they will think you have mental problems. Well, perhaps I do have mental issues because after 30 years my first reaction still is to giggle and grin.

Somehow I am able to hold my compusure and continue playing with my phone while attempting to give him quick glances.

The train arrives at Grand Central Station and I leave first. I have taken only a few steps and he is right next to me and says hello.  Up close he is even more handsome.  And YOUNG!!! He is just a baby! He looks late 20s max. I am disappointed, but still so flattered.

He asks me if I have time for breakfast and the only thing I say is: How old are you? Well I am nothing if I am not direct and to the point!  There is no guessing what I am thinking.

He says: 25, almost 25.

Oh, good God, is this a test?

I giggle! there comes the giggling again and I say: I could be your mother!

Somehow I think he has gone through this before because he lists a whole bunch of reasons why it doesn’t matter:

It is only breakfast!

You look 30!

Age is just a number!

I was always mature for my age!

You can have breafast with a friend, can you?

I give him extra points for having the guts of approaching me.  I find that a lot men are afraid of rejection so they don’t even try.  Perhaps he is too young to actually feel rejected – lol.  I politely say I am flattered but that it was best to skip breakfast.  I wish him luck and go.

Now, I know that it was only breakfast and perhaps I missed a chance of making a friend, but believe me I have been there before.  I have dated embarassingly young guys before, and in this case there is no such thing as just breakfast.

Still, I am flattered and more than ever motivated to dress up on Thursdays.  And it got me thinking:  What is my cutoff age?  How old is too young for me? since I am 46, I am thinking that a 10 year difference in either direction is okay.

but of course that is not set in stone!

By the way, for the record, I hate the label “cougar”!

(please see http://listuniverse.wordpress.com/ for my list of 10 reasons not to date a younger man)