By: Melissa MacDonald
NYC trip: day 1
Getting up at 3 in the morning was the worst part of the day, and even that wasn’t too bad. After a bus ride down to Poughkeepsie, our band of merry marauders boarded the train to complete our last leg of the trip down, where Joe English became stuck in the restrooms. Yes stuck, locked in, trapped, on the train bathroom until the conductor kindly walked him through how to get out. Accordingly, we have never let him live it down (sorry Joe, it just had to added).
After our ride on “The Sugar Maple” (as all the cars were named after some kind of famous New York icon), we departed the station and taxi’d our way to our hotel (my first ever taxi ride! Subsequently, I also learned how scary they are) and a bag drop off later; off to Columbia via subway, which we Galwaynians were totally unprepared for. Balance factors in huge as the train starts and stops on a dime, and physics will push you around (into other people). We also got a taste of subway surfing, wherein some adventure-seeking person will hold onto the outside door of the subway and try not to get obliterated by the pylons and columns of concrete along the way.
After being flung into people and learning why shoving others to get out was necessary, we exited in an unorderly fashion to Columbia. The first view of campus was astounding; sculptures and architecture everywhere, but we had already missed one session so we split up to attend our respective conferences rather hastily. I attended seminars on Tech/Sci reporting which gave me wonderful ideas for future articles, Sestinas which is a complicated and wonderful poem form (might post my example up here someday…) and a deliciously geeky class about sites, programs, and ideas for teching-up EMC3 that was waaaay more fun than expected (expect QR codes to start factoring into EMC3). All my sessions are recorded in my notebook for reference, so be expecting some awesome changes to the site and writing.
After a surprisingly mind-blowing lunch at one of the many street vendors, and afternoon workshops, 3:15 was our bell to leave campus and return to the hotel so hastily departed, get settled in (somewhat) and get ready for a night in Little Italy at Paesano’s. Our trip through adjoining Chinatown was fraught with shady shops selling…ahem…“authentic” watches, sunglasses, and handbags, but once you hit Little Italy it abruptly disappeared and was replaced by more friendly hassle-ers trying to draw people into restaurants (seriously, they were way nicer than the creepy watch people). Dinner was full of inside jokes, laughter, and ridiculously large portions of chicken Parmigiano, lobster ravioli, and fettuccine alfredo that most couldn’t be finished all the way.
After dinner, we were off to the sketchy shops and master wheeler-and-dealer Joe sparked off a round of watch haggling for the men-folk and Harry was mistakenly labeled as Angelina’s boyfriend when she was trying to haggle for a pair of sunglasses. Yes, we had people in trench coats coming up to us with “watches” and the like, people being generally pushy and rude on the sidewalks and subways, but all in all as a spectator to it all, the dose of culture was actually quite nice for a change of pace for a girl with no real experience in the city. at least I haven’t been mugged yet.
More to follow later.
Day 2:
With rest achieved (by some), our merry band of marauders woke to breakfast in the hotel penthouse (since the lobby was under construction) and sky-lounge. Some of the early-risers were treated to a view of the morning skyline of Manhattan at the rooftop patio, only to return inside to find we weren’t exactly supposed to be there as our entrance became magically roped off (it was fun while it lasted anyways…).
After copious amounts of Starbucks and bagels, off to Columbia again! Working off our prior subway experience, us Galwaynians were quite stable on the even-more-packed subways during the morning rush and continued to draw strange looks with discussions about chickens, inside jokes, and yesterday’s festivities. Arriving at Columbia, we split again into various factions to our respective classes across the massive campus. Personally, I took a morning course on dreams and how they can be woven into profound bits of poetry and writing (and why one should keep a dream journal by their bedside… maybe expect some dream-poetry from me later), an extremely charismatic session on fonts and typefaces and how they affect the overall design and pull of a publication, one on how to up our online presence by use of WordPress (which is already used for our site!) and themes and making our pages mobile-friendly ( the guy in front of me was using a netbook with Ubuntu; he received a techie-high five), then it was time for lunch. While many of our group went to local exotic restaurants, I being the sociopath that I am found an Asian import store where I treated myself to Ramune soda and a package of pocky sticks (honestly, the Ramune tasted like legit peaches; I encourage you guys to try this stuff!)
For the afternoon sessions, I returned to the Fontaholic presenter to hear more about design aesthetics and how Galway can improve our publications by leaps and bounds (bonus points for anyone who can define ‘Kern’ without any internet/ dictionary help). Continuing in that vein, I attended another similar class to collect ideas and themes for designing not only yearbooks, but the Impressions magazine and The Footprint to get some snazzy eye-catching circulation.
After all was said and done, it was to our hotel to freshen up and onto Soho, where Joe revisited the infamous cupcake shop to redeem his camera-losing antics. After puttering around, it was time to hop in line for The Moth story slam at The Housing Works bookstore, where proceeds go towards AIDS victims and the homeless. We heard stories about luck, and even submitted our own anonymous experiences with it that were read aloud on stage to the sardine-packed audience (Karen and I had our slips read!) in between actual story tellers that were called up randomly to regale their luck (or lack-thereof) and judged by locals. We now know why not to take your kid to Vegas when you have an expired license. Though most were humor-oriented, one particularly touching story about the Vietnam war came up that brought a tear to my eye, but the overall winner was Kevin, who entertained the audience about his study in France and how pretending you’re not even there when you’re called on may get you out of having to do stuff (with French-accented dialogue).
Winner chosen and audience satisfied, we returned “home” to Time Square, where being the occasion of St. Patrick’s Day, our merry group decided to rove and explore the streets filled with advertisements and technical wonder. The exuberant atmosphere and everyone just out to have a good time made it one of the best nights of my life thus far. Just don’t ask Mr. U about his sandwich.
Day 3:
Staying up past one, our merry band of marauders groggily woke up after late-night memories to another brekkers at the penthouse (nobody on the roof this time *sadface*) and quick packing up for the departure that loomed over like a depressing cloud. Though it was our last day, we decided to live each moment to its fullest and ventured into the only other landmark within walking distance: Central Park.
Walking down 42nd street (and after a quick Starbucks stop) we arrived at Columbus Circle and the north side of the park. I was an odd feeling; we were surrounded by trees again, though the city never really left the fringes of your mind or senses. Those who were lucky enough to bring cameras were treated to an onslaught of opportunities while others just enjoyed the scenery, statues, and calm. Walking down the broad avenue of trees, we came to a grotto with a lone man pouring his soul into a tenor sax; being in Jazz Band myself, I can honestly say he knew how to play and play well. Sitting and listening to this man weave a musical tapestry, we basked in his fluent language of music until a little boy came along and we were jarred out of our trance with “Pop Goes the Weasel”; needless to say this guy was just plain cool. As we walked on to greater things, he was playing “New York, New York” for a group of students (with his own embellishments). We passed “the lake” which was more like a glorified pond; Galway Lake was bigger than that, and moved on to more sculptures and landmarks, notably an obelisk straight from Egypt and took another stop to just sit and admire the little signs of spring approaching.
Our group hit the reservoir before cutting across and heading back along 5th Avenue to the hotel to retrieve our things before we left. While the women-folk were admiring all the jewelry and fashion, the men just plodded forward relatively unfazed. 50+ blocks of total walking later, we learned that Eric’s Converse sneaker had ripped around the heel and was utterly unsalvageable (only temporarily fixed for the ride home).
A shot jot to Grand Central and dinner, and it was time to board the train and leave behind our memories; we swapped pictures and stories, compiling them all on Ubie’s laptop to be burned to discs for us all (If you ask us we might share too). From train to bus, bus to home, we reminisced about what only happened hours before and our final departure at school brought a small tear to my eye. We were finally disbanding; kids from all sorts of cliques got together outside of school and got along as one, cohesive family-unit, including teachers. I only wish this lesson and more could be projected on the school community. All in all, I will never forget this wonderful experience as one of the best in my life thus far; I learned, laughed, and loved every bit of it.