Sunday, September 10, 2006

Sara Gran on the perils of being a writer in Park Slope

at the New York Times. (NB the F train is my unfavorite train in NY because of [a] the evil transfer from the 1/2/3 at 14th St. which requires going down a long tunnel and then downstairs and then upstairs again and [b] the fact that due to my having the worst sense of direction in the world I always emerge befuddled from F-train destinations Essex and Delancey and East Broadway. I got massively lost last week on my way to dim sum in Chinatown, I planned on walking from the west side but then the trains weren't running past 14th St. and I took the F and it was not good, I usually have a map as an artificial buffer but in this case had not thought I'd need one. I am really a directional idiot--I also got nerve-rackingly lost the other day in Central Park--my downtown walking-in-the-wrong-direction experiences almost always conclude with me suddenly realizing that after half an hour of brisk walking I am at Houston St. and then getting a cab in disgust at my own disorientation and confusion. I am waiting for an affordable hand-held GPS device kind of like what you can get for your car only in the form of a stylish wristwatch. Seriously.)

1 comment:

  1. Last weekend I hung out with a writer who has moved from Park Slope to Philadelphia (husband's job) and is sad about it. Frankly, I think it's the best thing that could have happened to her. Of course I live in --and grew up in--the third place besides Park Slope and Oxford, Mississippi where one can understand how she feels...

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