Happy Halloween!

It's the most wonderful time of the year! As I've said before, Halloween is my favourite day of the year, and I always dress up, sometimes as a historical figure (in past years I've been Marie Antoinette and the Byzantine Empress Theodora), sometimes as a historical figure (last year I was Grunkle Stan from "Gravity Falls", the year before that I was Velma Dinkley), and sometimes (but rarely) in something more generic.

This year, I've decided to go as a Puritan woman, inspired by my love of movies like "ParaNorman" and "The Witch", and the play "The Crucible", and my fascination with the historical Salem Witch Trials. (Also, if I'm being honest, inspired by the fact that I had a budget of like $10 for this.)

I think I did pretty well with the money I had.

And the more I wear this costume, the more it begins to feel... well, almost like an alter ego of sorts. She even has a backstory...

*******

Young Goody Nym sat outside the meeting house in the chilly morning air before that Sunday's sermon reading her Bible like a good, Puritan woman.

 There had been a devil's scourge sweeping through Salem as of late - tales of women signing their souls to the devil and sending out apparitions that tormented local children. A shiver went down Goody Nym's spine as she recalled those poor children - young Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam among them - writhing and sobbing in the meeting house. Why, just last Wednesday there had been pins discovered in the girl's scalp, placed by witches!

Truth be told, Goody Nym didn't know what to make of any of it. But these trials frightened her. If the Devil really was active in Salem, she feared becoming the next victim of His legion of evil witches.

That was when she heard it.

My Top 10 Horror (and Horror-Comedy) Movies for Halloween

Halloween is coming up fast, and this is my favourite time of the year! The leaves are changing colours, restaurants are putting pumpkins and 'pumpkin spices' in everything, stores are selling spooky home decor and fun costumes, cheesy Haunted House attractions (both professional and home-made) are popping up, and TV stations and Netflix and local theatres alike are all playing horror movies!

Like "Fido", which is on my list!

 I love horror movies. I always have, ever since I was a little kid. I don't know why I've always had this attraction to spooky and macabre stuff, but this is the best time of year to embrace that type of thing, so I figured I'd list my top ten favourites to watch this time of year!

Technically, a lot of these are actually going to fall under the label of "Horror Comedy" rather than just plain "Horror" but they're all still good movies. So pop some popcorn, spice some pumpkins, get under a big cozy blanket, and try one of these out!

Four Thieves Vinegar

Today I made a batch of Four Thieves Vinegar, which is currently sitting in my dark closet so it can seep for a month and be ready to use by Thanksgiving.

Some of my readers are going to know exactly what this stuff does and why one would want to have it around, and some of you are probably scratching their heads and wondering, Nym, what the ever-loving fuck is Four Thieves Vinegar?

Aaron Burr's Ghost

Aaron Burr, the Vice President to Thomas Jefferson, the man who shot Alexander Hamilton. The man who got kicked out of Mexico, the man who married a woman who everyone said had murdered her first husband, even though he was decades older (she divorced him ten months later).

This guy

 It's Hamilton's fingerprints which are all over this city, but oddly not his ghost. You never hear about Alexander Hamilton's ghost. Aaron Burr's ghost, on the other hand...

Aaron Burr's ghost has been seen, they say, at his former carriage house, which is now an insanely expensive restaurant. His daughter Theodosia has also been seen, pushing patrons down the stairs or ripping earrings out of women's ears. If he disapproves of his daughter's dreadful behaviour, he doesn't let it show.

Aaron Burr's ghost, they say, has been spotted at Battery Park, staring forlornly out at the water, waiting for his daughter to return. She'll never return, they say. She was killed by pirates, they say. Never mind that this conflicts with her being seen at their carriage house. Never mind that Battery Park was all landfill added later, and did not exist when the Burrs were actually alive.

Aaron Burr's ghost, they say, has been seen in Weehawken where he shot Hamilton. He's pale, even for a ghost, as if he's about to be sick. Does he regret what he's done? Does he even realise?

Aaron Burr's ghost has even been spotted at Eliza Jumel's mansion. Even though she divorced him, even though he didn't even live there that long, even though it's so far uptown. Aaron Burr's ghost really gets around.

-Nym-

I Met a Monk

While I am a planner by nature, the beauty of New York City is that even if I set out without a plan (or very much money at all) I can just meander around and eventually find something interesting. That's what happened yesterday. I had no real plans other than to go to the East Village and pick up two copies of this week's "Village Voice" (because I promised my neighbour I'd get her a copy too), and I got hungry when there so I stopped into Veselka for some pierogi. (I'm addicted and someday I will have to do a blog entry about that place when I have more energy to do so.) Down the street from Veselka is the church St Mark's-in-the-Bowery, and I decided to check out some of the old grave plots in the yard.

That's when I saw him.

Sitting outside the gates of the church in an actual scratchy brown habit and knotted rope belt like something out of a medieval-themed movie was an honest-to-god real life monk.

New York City continues to find ways to surprise me. Just when I think I've seen the weirdest possible thing, this city throws something even more surreal at me. Meeting a Franciscan monk was not how I expected my Wednesday to go. In fact, I've actually never seen a monk in real life before, be they Franciscan or Carmelite or Benedictine or whatever other kinds of monks there are.

He had boxes next to him to accept donations of clothing and food for anyone on the street to just take. (He told me to take some food. I protested that even though I am poor and love free food, someone needier than I might need it more than I do, but he said it was for everyone so I took some garbanzo beans to make hummus with.) However, he would not accept cash. As he had taken a vow of poverty, he can't handle cash.

His name was Brother Angelo, and he wasn't what I expected a monk to look like. No shaved bit on top of his head, and he had tattoos on one arm and a couple fingers from his crazy pre-monk days. I was fascinated with him and asked if it was okay to sit and chat with him a bit, which he was all too happy to do.

In fact, this guy might be the happiest New Yorker I've ever met. He literally owns nothing, but he says that's freeing. He's happy to "serve Christ by serving the people" - that, he said, is why he took his vows and became a monk - and he said the best way to help him was to let any homeless people in the area know he was there in front of the church with food and clothing and a friendly listening ear. This guy is the real deal.

(Surprisingly, he was also pro-LGBT, which was really nice to find out.)

I wish I had recorded our conversation, because we were talking for like an hour and I wish I remembered all of what was said. Sadly, my memory isn't that good, though it's decent enough. I will report that talking to him felt like talking to an old friend, which is the best kind of conversation with a stranger to have.

Even though I am not Christian in any way, shape, or form - and I have no desire to ever be - I found my chat with Brother Angelo to be utterly fascinating and inspiring, and he invited me to come back and chat with him whenever I liked. I probably will take him up on that offer, too. Because I would befriend a monk. My life really is just that surreal.

-Nym-

I Heart Regina Spektor

This entry will be brief. I just wanted to make it known that two nights ago, on 17 October 2016, I saw one of my favourite singers live at NYC's Town Hall venue.

I am a massive Regina Spektor fan, and when I found out she would be performing in NYC I bought tickets right away. She did not disappoint.

First off, Regina Spektor is my queen. She could murder me and I would thank her for it. She is ridiculously talented and innovative, she regularly does things in her music that other artists wouldn't even think of, and she transcends genre. She's so versatile. Her songs don't all sound the same.

Now that all makes for fabulous albums, but how is she live? Turns out the answer to that is transcendent. She's transcendent. She's amazing live. She's so talented.

The concert could not have been more perfect. She played my two favourite songs of hers ("Blue Lips" and "Us"). She played the first song of hers that I ever heard ("Apres Moi" is the reason I'm a Regina Spektor fan). And of course she played songs from her new album!

It's phenomenally unlikely she'll ever see this. But Regina, if you ever do somehow see this? Thank you so much for one of the best concerts I've ever been to. Thank you so much for gifting the world with your music. I love you.

-Nym

A Visit to Coney Island

"The only thing about America that interests me is Coney Island" ~ Sigmund Freud.

Sorry for the radio silence on this blog lately. I've been without internet for the past few days thanks to a feline-related mishap. But in case anyone is curious, last Saturday I finally got to experience something I've wanted to do since I was like 10. Yes, last Saturday, Sarah and I hopped on the F-Train and rode it all the way to the last stop to visit Coney Island!

A Walking Tour of New Amsterdam

I really should have seen this coming. In any place that I've lived in - be it California or elsewhere - I start to get very interested in local history. I mean, I'm no stranger to New York's incredible volume of historical interest spots - my recent entries have mostly been about the American Revolution in New York City.

But lately, due to a current writing project (no spoilers), I've started to become interested in New York's history before the revolutionary era. Before Alexander Hamilton and his colleagues traipsed around this city's streets. Before he was even born, in fact. Before the British got their hands on this place at all...

Watercolour by Johannes Vingboons

I'm talking, of course, about New Amsterdam, which is what NYC was before it was NYC. That's right, the Dutch settled this area before the British! And while their 'purchase' of Manhattan Island from local Native Americans was rather infamously dubious (though at least they bought it instead of doing the British thing and just kicking the natives out or enslaving them), this city's oldest roots as a city are Dutch rather than British. Not a lot of that Dutch history remains - most of the original buildings are gone now, due to the fires set to the city during the Revolution - but it's still interesting to me.

And when I found out that this website offered a free self-guided walking tour of areas of interest to the Dutch history of NYC, I knew I had to take it.

A model of New Amsterdam, which spanned from what was then the southern border of Manhattan all the way to Wall Street.

Follow me under the cut to explore eight stops along the trail of what little is left of 17th Century New Amsterdam...

New Year, New Home!

First off, L'shanah tovah! Rosh Hashanah ("Jewish New Year" for all my goy friends) starts tonight!

Second off, I am no longer crashing on my cousin's couch or Sarah's floor - I got a place of my own! How did I do it, you ask? Here are my steps to finding a home of your own on the East Coast:

1. Schedule an apartment viewing in Queens. Go to it. Have the guy promise to call you back.
2. The guy never calls back? That's fine. Schedule another in Brooklyn.
3. They want you to sign a lease you're not comfortable with? It's okay. Brooklyn is huge. Try another one.
4. Too expensive, huh? Let's give Harlem a shot.
5. They picked someone else? Try a few more places in Brooklyn.
6. Rejected, rejected. Get stood up once. Try Harlem some more.
7. Rejected, rejected, rejected.
8. Break down. Cry. Then get back on Craigslist.
9. Give up and move to New Jersey instead.

I'm being somewhat facetious. Truth is, the place I found is in New Jersey. In fact, it's in Weehawken, just a short walk from where Alexander Hamilton was shot. My story begins where his ended. Poetic, isn't it?

But I don't feel as if I failed in any way. Actually, for how much shit New Yorkers give Jersey? I love it here. I love the house I'm staying in - it's an old (supposedly haunted) Victorian boarding house that has been converted to apartments. Sarah saw it and agrees it's perfect for me.

And as my boss said, "new year, new home!" It's a fitting time to move into such a lovely place. And it's actually really close to Manhattan - check out the view from the front porch:

A ten minute bus ride through the Lincoln Tunnel, and then I'm in the middle of Times Square. (I hate Times Square but it's a convenient transportation hub...) And, you know, I've always dreamed of someday living in a Victorian house. I just never expected it would happen at this point in my life.

Now, obviously, for privacy reasons I can't show you what the outside of the building looks like. Rest assured it is very cute. However I can give you a small home tour...