Sunday, Sunday

          What's this?  Two blogs in one week?  Yes, yes this is me making an effort to take this more seriously.  I have a lot of trouble writing these because, as I said when I first started this, it's hard for me to come up with things to write about that people will actually want to read.  Living here, while it's not becoming mundane, now seems less extraordinary.  The city is still awe inspiring, and I see buildings or streets or scenes every day that deserve more than just a fleeting glance.  But now I live here.  I have daily and weekly activities, and most of the time I might as well be living anywhere else; my thoughts and actions, revolving around school or work or whatever else, would be mostly the same.
          So, I thought I'd just write about my day and see how that goes.  I'm afraid it will be terribly boring, but I'm going to do it anyways.  Today is Sunday.  Ok, that's a good start.  Sunday for us means church, even though for the past month or so Kyha has had to work 10-6 on Sundays, so, sadly, no church for her.  We've been going to Hillsong, which we like.  The music is great, of course, and so is the preaching.  However, I take Sundays off of bike riding, so I have to leave our apartment around 8:15ish to catch the 2 or 3 train downtown to Time Square station, where I transfer to the N, Q, or R train to Union Square in order to get in line at Hillsong by 9:00 so I can get a good seat at the 10:00 service (yes, there is a line for this church, which is the worst part).  Every Sunday after church, in an effort to make my life more like all of the New York based movies and TV shows I have ever seen, walk two blocks to a little diner called Joe Junior.  It is wonderful.  Wood paneling on the walls, a TV on mute hung in the corner, a conspicuous bag of garlic nailed to the wall above the old metal cash register.  Every week I sit at the bar and order the same thing, pancakes with two eggs over easy, and no thanks, I'll just have water to drink.  And every week I go in there with the naive hope that today will be the day the waiter makes my life complete and says "Goodmorning.  Just the usual today?"  But, instead, I politely decline a menu and say I'll have pancakes with two eggs over easy.  Maybe next week will be the week.
          I'm usually done eating around noon, which means I have two hours until I have to be at work.  It's about a half an hour walk across town, but I fill the time with some exploring.  I'll duck into antique shops or book stores, sit in a park and people watch, or just walk around.  Today I went to the Stumptown Coffee on 29th street, since Kyha is such a big fan of theirs.  It's attached to a fancy hotel, and their seating area is the hotel lobby.  So after the hipsters behind the bar kindly made a tea for me, because I'm boring, I went into the lobby to read for an hour.  Now, this is not your typical hotel lobby.  It's poorly lit, I suppose for effect, with dark couches and armchairs placed close together in such a way which assumes that the strangers sitting in them will want to talk to each other, when actually nobody wants to talk to anybody.  It is New York, after all.
          After that I walked to work, where I did work things, and then I rode the Subway home and had dinner with my lovely wife.  Now I'm sitting on my fire escape writing this because the weather is perfect.  That was my Sunday folks.  I'm going to go to sleep now.