We love getting email here at Curbed; if we don't respond immediately (or at all), it's because our inbox is a cesspool where good correspondence goes to die. Sifting through the remains of the week, a few gems apropos of nothing caught our eye. After the jump, we share them with you.
The first comes from a far-away land...
Dear Curbed staff--The second, from closer proximity:
As sad as this seems, just wanted to let you know that I look forward to your column every morning. It is amazing just how much has changed in my neighborhood in the 40 days that I have been away. I live on Rivington and have been working on a landmine clearance project in Norther Somalia since 11/1.
Anyhow, just wanted to say thanks for keeping me updated though I will not lie that reading about all of the new bars and restaurants is absolutely torturous. Even the lame ones! No booze here. I think that my colleague will be returning from Nairobi with (hopefully) a bottle of vodka on Thursday. Either way, I head back to the western world on Saturday and then back to the neighborhood on Dec. 27th.
PS: There are some interesting real estate ventures here. You can buy a pretty swanky place for about $15,000 dollars. Absolute opulence will set you back $60K.
I thought I'd take this opportunity on a socially-deprived Friday night to put things in perspective.
I just had been bouncing around the web to my typical daily reading, doing a little catch up (having been busy from a recent move), and I quickly ingested three days worth of Curbed. Part of the way through, I had a bizarre realization.
See, this is only my third night as a Manhattan and New York State resident. I had previously lived nearby, but... uh, let's say, out-of-state in less desirable municipalities.
It is truly a new world for me now that a trip to any store I like is a quick hop (or transfer to the B/D/F/V) up to Midtown, that any dive bar I'd love is even closer, that I walk out the door anytime and there's people EVERYWHERE. Plus, it's Christmas in New York. There's truly magic in the air.
However, reading Curbed for the first time since the move, I realized something else. I now live in this clownish world that you depict in Curbed every day. Previously, it all seemed somewhat like a big joke. All of these snickers about new restaurants in Brooklyn, skyscrapers in Midtown, multimillion-dollar lofts in Tribeca, the demolishing of half the LES, the RESY index in SLNY, the depravity and insanity in the Meatpacking District... well, those places aren't distant now. Everything seems so close... and the fact that it is all so close is freaky. The distant bemusement, the detached hilarity isn't appropriate anymore. These places are right around the corner. I have to sleep near them now.
I had a close-to-home feeling that I can't believe how crazy this city really is. But I'm sure it'll go away by next week.