From the monthly archives:

April 2009

Moving to New York: the no-foolin’ FAQ

by Ella on April 27, 2009

New York, New York

So you’ve decided to move to New York. Or maybe you’re still in the fantasising stage. Regardless, planning a move to the city that never sleeps is mega exciting.

I’ve been living in New York for almost three months now, and have therefore become one of those obnoxious, self-designated experts on all things Gotham. This doesn’t really fly within the tri-state area, but for anyone who resides outside the US and nurtures a long-held desire to move to NYC, I can offer some tips on how to go about it.

First, a little disclaimer. I am very fortunate in two respects: I am an American citizen, and my family has lived in Manhattan for the last eight years. I am therefore avoiding questions about visas and so forth, because I simply don’t know what it’s like to go through that process. I’ve heard it involves some kind of biometric prodding at the airport.

Right! With that out of the way, let the questions commence.

When should I move?
As in comedy, timing is everything. First off, much as it pains me to say it, now is a really bad time. This boring economic carry-on has wiped out a tonne of jobs. I hate to be a downer, as I enjoy living in a fantasy world where the lamp-posts are made of chocolate, but the job situation really is rather dire. Unless you are crazy rich or have been transferred to a secure role in a stable company, I’d wait a while. Get a financial cushion going. Which brings me to the next question.

How much money should I save?
One of the most common questions for would-be New Yorkers is “How much cash should I have in reserve in order to get established in the city?” Here’s a useful formula to work out how much you’ll need: write down the biggest number you can think of. Then double it. You will now have the dollar target you ought to be aiming for.

Really, just save as much as you can. If the exchange rate becomes very favourable, convert a chunk of cash to guard against future plummets. NYC is an expensive town — rents are obscene, drinks will clean you out, and pretty much everyone expects a tip.

What should I bring?
Yourself. Your passport. A tonne of money. Some clothes. Photos of friends from home. That’s pretty much it. Everything else can be bought. In the meantime, enjoy your newfound zen lifestyle. It’s all just stuff, anyway.

Where should I live?
Assuming you’re as poor as I am, I would recommend Astoria in Queens. It’s much cheaper than Manhattan, the houses are bigger and it’s only a few stops from midtown on the subway. Also, it’s where Sesame Street is filmed. How cool is that?

If you’re lucky enough to be loaded with cashola, I’d go for the Upper West Side or the West Village. Each has a good sense of community, a splash of artsyness and celeb cachet. The UWS also has Fairway, the most magical supermarket in the universe. I’d describe it, but words couldn’t do it justice. I’d have to do some kind of dance.

Also, now is the time to mine any connections you may have in New York — long-lost relatives, ex-colleagues, pre-school classmates — try to ingratiate yourself into their affections and finagle a crash pad for those first crucial weeks. Yes, it feels a bit manipulative, but people who live in New York expect crashers. Just be a good houseguest when you arrive, and don’t stay beyond a fortnight. Use those two weeks to inspect apartments you find on Craigslist.

How do I find a job?
Yeah, good question. It depends on your area of work, but one good way to get started is to join industry groups on Facebook and meetup.com. You can do this before you leave for the US of A. Once you’ve landed and unpacked, focus on attending networking events and social mixers.

Aggregate job sites like indeed.com give you a decent idea of what’s out there. Just type in some keywords to see who’s hiring and what they’re paying. (At the moment, the answer is “no-one” and “nothing”. Boo.)

How do I make friends?
This one’s tricky. Socially, Americans are a bit of a paradox. They’ll confide in you immediately while simultaneously keeping you at arm’s length. You’ll go to drinks and be introduced to a friendly bunch who will compliment your hometown and invite you to stay at their summer cabin. After you leave, you will never see nor hear from any of these people again. It feels weird, and you’ll wonder what you’ve done wrong, but it’s the norm here.

As with any other friend-making situation, the best approach is to be yourself. You will encounter people who don’t get your humour, don’t understand your accent, or just think you’re plain strange, but New York has so many different tribes that you will definitely find some chums who appreciate you.

Also, work your exoticness. It makes you stand out. People will love your accent, even if they constantly misjudge where you’re from. (Everyone thinks I’m British, and New Yorkers tend to think New Zealand and Australia are part of one big archipelago.) It’s a talking point, and you’d be mad not to exploit it.

How do I survive in this fast-paced, ultra-competitive city?
Learn to hustle. Don’t be afraid to be assertive and persistent. Make no mistake: New York is full of relentless overachievers who will stop at nothing to attain their lofty goals. If you want to play that game you need to be driven and confident, or at least be able to fake it convincingly.

The intensity of this city is what makes it alternately thrilling and horrifying. There will be days where you encounter amazing things: an opera singer on the subway, a veteran actor strolling down the sidewalk. There will be days where you feel utterly alone, overwhelmed and like you want to run and hide from the intense city that blares at you when you open your front door. Either way, you’ll never forget what it’s like to live in New York. So come on over.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Digg
  • FriendFeed
  • Delicious
  • Tumblr
  • Technorati Favorites
  • StumbleUpon
  • Share/Save/Bookmark

{ 0 comments }

How to handle this mortality business

by Ella on April 22, 2009

Image by an_untrained_eye on Flickr

When I was about nine, my father — then travelling in Cambodia — sent me a batch of photographs taken in Phnom Penh. One of them was of a cabinet filled with rows and rows of skulls, each belonging to a person murdered by the Khmer Rouge.

Though hardly my first encounter with death, this image plunged me into a cavernous sinkhole of mortality-related despair. “Everybody dies”, I realised with abject horror, “and none of us knows when it will happen”.

For most of us, the thought of shuffling off this mortal coil is hardly an enticing one, but the notion of kicking the bucket fills me with such white-hot fear that I absolutely cannot abide it. Put simply, death sucks, and I would like to opt out of it by calling a 1-800 hotline.

I’m usually a pretty chipper, upbeat person, but sometimes I’ll be winding down at the end of the day and suddenly remember: “Oh yeah. One day I’m going to die.” It’s like a switch is flicked and darkness descends. I immediately become convinced that the world I inhabit is fraught with peril. No-one cares! Nothing means anything! Everything is taken away in an instant.

How can one simple thought have such an effect? Mortality — the human condition, if you want to get all literary about it — is the big kahuna of anxieties. It’s the ultimate loss of control. And for people who love life and must be in charge of their own destiny, this is a really icky thought.

So how to deal with this mortality business? How can we acknowledge that our time here is brief without depressing ourselves into a ditch? Time to bring on the (non-fatal) bullets:

  • Appreciate what you have. It’s often said, and with good reason: the best way to live is to live in the here and now. Pay attention to what’s in front of you. Tell people how you feel about them. And please, as much as is possible, put down the damn iPhone.
  • Look at yourself in broader terms. Go to a big museum that uses artefacts to create a narrative of all human endeavour. Somewhere like the Met in New York, the Louvre or the British Museum. Marvel at the incredible achievements of all those that have gone before you. Visualise your place in the story of humanity. And be glad that after your time has come, you won’t have to suffer the indignity of having your mummified corpse put on display for a bunch of gawking tourists.

  • Mine your mortality-related angst for creative and/or commercial gain. What’s the use in suffering if you can’t tell people about it? Preoccupation with death has resulted in extraordinary poetry, prose and song. There was this one dude, Shakespeare, who was totally obsessed with croaking. His strategy was to channel his feelings into a bunch of relatively successful plays and sonnets. (Assuming he wrote everything that’s been attributed to him, but that’s a debate for another crowd.)
  • Plan your funeral. I know, I know: this sounds disgustingly morbid. But putting things in practical terms gives you a sense of control. Pick the songs you want for your farewell. Sort out the decor and decide whether you want a celebratory wake or a solemn throw-yourself-on-the-coffin-sobbing type of deal. I’ve already briefed my mum on the procedures should she be around for my demise. I don’t want her to be singing me childhood lullabies and sobbing into my bedsheets. I want her to be on the phone to the cryogenics lab organising a pick-up.

Though I still get the odd flash of terror, the way I try to deal with death is to think, well, life is short. That really freaking sucks. But every minute you waste agonising over the unfairness of it all is a minute in which you haven’t been living it up. You may not have any control over your death, but you have complete control over your life. So make the choice to be bold. Do things that terrify you. And if you fail, at least you shall fail spectacularly.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Digg
  • FriendFeed
  • Delicious
  • Tumblr
  • Technorati Favorites
  • StumbleUpon
  • Share/Save/Bookmark

{ 6 comments }

Video: Dance Your Way To Success

April 20, 2009

Here it is, ladies and gents: the baffling conclusion to the Social Wisdom video trilogy. In previous installments we’ve shown you how to embrace your insecurities via your Facebook profile pic and conducted an investigation into guitaring, heroism and you. Now comes Dance Your Way To Success, an instructional video on how to [...]

Read the full article →

The gift guide: How to be a decent present-giver

April 19, 2009
Thumbnail image for The gift guide: How to be a decent present-giver

Weddings, parties, whatever: any occasion that involves handing over a present to a good friend requires careful preparation. Unless you receive point-blank orders or an itemised list, it’s up to you to find an object whose value represents your level of devotion to the recipient. But hey — no pressure.
The standard approach — [...]

Read the full article →

Facebook, Twitter and living in front of an audience

April 15, 2009
Thumbnail image for Facebook, Twitter and living in front of an audience

The addictive nature of Facebook and Twitter appears to be based on one puzzling precept: that telling people you are doing something is better than actually doing it. Rather than being content to simply experience life in the real world, we feel compelled to report the details in real-time to an audience of Friends [...]

Read the full article →

Video: Win Friends With Guitaring Hero

April 13, 2009

It’s time for part two of the Social Wisdom video trilogy: Win Friends With Guitaring Hero. This informative video shows you how to behave when faced with Guitar Hero or Rock Band at a party. Follow these instructions and you will have gained a legion of admirers faster than you can say “Freebird [...]

Read the full article →

What to do when you feel like you’re going insane

April 10, 2009
Thumbnail image for What to do when you feel like you’re going insane

If you’ve got a decent brain in your noggin and are prone to bouts of overanalysis, there are going to be times when you feel like you’re driving yourself mad. It’s certainly one of my favourite hobbies, along with 3am mortality-related angstfests and the agony of deciding what to have for Sunday brunch.
A particularly [...]

Read the full article →