I went to the Gogol Bordello concert in Terminal 5 on December 30th, 2011. I’m waiting for one of my friends to post the pictures, but this video is a taste of the experience. I make a sweaty cameo at around 3:00 minutes into the video.

The protesters crowded the streets surrounding the park during the day before they were allowed back in under close supervision of the NYPD. I walked around after 5:45pm – the tense and ominous environment was very different than it was the past two months. These protesters weren’t just angry about abstract ideas and wikipedia explanations of economics – they were angry at something specific now.

I went back to Zuccotti Park at 8:30pm and started listening to and photographing one of their unique meetings – the protesters aren’t allowed to utilize megaphones, so their method of mass communication is for the main speaker to deliver phrases or short sentences, and for the crowd to repeat those exact words in an organized manner. It’s actually pretty impressive that this seemed to work, although many people present were like me – not really “occupying,” but witnessing without participating.

completely destroyed landscaping

the protesters wave their hands kind of like “jazz hands” if they agree with the main speaker

I heard one of the protesters near me yell in an angry tone. I wasn’t planning to use the camera on my ipod nano because it’s poor quality at night, but I suspected that his taunts will lead to something. He provoked by antagonizing the NYPD by yelling at them. I suppose the rest of the crowd assumed that the NYPD were guilty of something, and soon everyone joined him. I didn’t see NYPD respond at all, but instead witnessed the entire park lose their focus on their meeting and scream at the NYPD collectively.

Protesters and press climb the park ledge and
swarm  two NYPD officers

90% of NYPD isn’t even near the park

All photographs and video copyrighted by Adrianna Grezak

Here is what I videotaped – it’s low quality but it captures what I experienced.

I’m trying to adjust to this new “small” physical identity

Last year I couldn’t run for longer than 30 seconds without getting winded. In less than one year later I reached my goal to run 5 miles…. and lost 40 pounds and 4.5 inches off my waist along the way. (Note, I ran 5 miles for the first time in July 2011.)

This whole job thing was surreal during the first week. I spent the previous four months in cut off denim shorts and old undershirts – I felt awkward when I adjusted to dressing in adult clothes to take an adult commute to sit at my adult desk. I spent all of my college years yearning to have a “real” job with a title and responsibilities, but suddenly I was resistant to all of that when I finally got it. On my first day of work I wanted to crawl back to the days where all I had to worry about was whether or not I shelved a book correctly. It was a twisted and watered down sense of nostalgia, considering that I surpassed the I Only Shelve Books, I Don’t Know Anything stage years ago.

I’m not really attached to the new bookstore on Broadway because I only worked limited hours on that salesfloor for six months (compared to the two years of weekly 20-28 hours I spent in the Washington location). Regardless, the space still represents a certain start to my career. I still live in the East Village so I commute via the R train to the financial district – so I walk by that bookstore twice a day. It’s the last thing I see before I board the train to work, and it’s the first thing I see when I leave the train station to walk home. I’m mostly happy that I’m no longer at a point in my life where I have to wear an apron on a busy salesfloor to earn an hourly wage – but some days I feel a tinge of melancholy.