Toto, I've got a feeling I'm not in Utah anymore

New York is definitely different. Of course, I expected that. I come from a town so tiny there are no streetlights, stores, or lines on the road. Stop signs were huge when they were installed a few years ago. Then this small town girl came to New York City. I've been to big cities before, spent a couple weeks in Paris, seen pictures and TV shows. But New York, well, it just has a life of its own.

(pic of the Apple store in the Upper West side, from apple.com)

Today was my first full day here. I've heard more sirens than I can remember, there are always people on the street, and my neighbors in the apartment above me make this odd tapping sound. It could be how they walk, or someone trying to send a message through Morse code. Jury's still out. I'm across the street from the Lincoln Center. If you don't know what that is, look it up! I live next door to the NY temple and when I look out my window, I see the Angel Moroni statue from the top back. Yeah, that's right. Be jealous. I also have a great view of the temple roof. Nothing happens there, I checked. See that building right behind the temple? The big huge one? That's where I live.

(pic from lds.org)

Being an actual resident of the Upper West Side, I had the privilege of going grocery shopping. Imagine going to Wal-Mart, or Costco, in Utah on a Saturday night. All the Mormon families are everywhere, trying to stock up on supplies before midnight. That's what it's like here. All the time. I went to Trader Joe's, the best place to get food at a decent price. There isn't a ton of space, so there are escalators leading you to the different floors. Unfortunately, there is a bit of segregation. You and your cart are NOT allowed to ride the same escalator. It has to ride by itself in one designed specifically for shopping carts.

(pic from breakitandlearn.com)

I stayed mostly in my area today, exploring and trying to memorize where everything is. Imagine. The streets are littered with paper and napkins from hot dog vendors, and there's always the smell of cigarette smoke. Policemen hang out on street corners or watch tourists take pictures of each other at the Lincoln Center fountain. It's getting dark, and everyone is bundled up in coats and scarves and boots, although there's no snow on the ground. Families walk around, perhaps on their way home after some suitable Saturday activity. One such family has couple of small children. The kids start to run into the crowd and their parents yell "Red light! Red light!" The children stop and laugh, seeing it all as a game. An older, gray-haired businessman walks dog so big it came up to his waist. He stops and waits politely for an elderly man and woman to go by.  A crowd of well-dressed people walk out of the Metropolitan Opera, discussing plot lines and actors and if they should go get something to eat now or wait until they get home. People talk in languages I've never heard and have no way of recognizing. Everyone has a story. The people you see for one instant are people you will never meet again, but have entire lives and dreams and have the potential to change the world.

(http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/20/surprise-most-new-yorkers-say-they-like-the-city/)

Welcome to New York.