When you ask me where I live, I would tell you in very New-Yorkese that I live on W. 3rd street between Sullivan and Thompson Streets. Having lived here for almost 4 full years, I often consider myself to be an expert on what goes on and whats new up and down "my streets."
But in typical New York fashion, a venture through "my hood" today turned into an exploration of the unknown as I ventured to the less visited southern sides of the streets I call home. First, I wandered down Thompson - past Bleeker, where I normally go left or right - in search of a new a new tailor. (End of summer sales left me with a few fixer ups, and with my current tailor in retirement mode, I needed a new one.) And a new tailor I found, as well as some hefty tailoring fees. But that was neither here or there given that I had paid next to nothing for the dresses.
So I continued my adventure to Houston, where I took a right to head back to the office. Something when I approached Sullivan seemed to call my name, so I took a left to cross Houston, and my adventure began.
In the course of a city block, I found a new sandwich place to order lunch from, that also makes a mean iced coffee AND its 4 blocks closer to the office than my current establishment. Also, there was an adorable brunch spot that was just begging for the next rainy Sunday morning where you can sit in its windows and watch the rain hit the pavement, while savoring a latte and eggs Norwegian, and perusing the Sunday Styles section of the NYTimes. Across the street was a new fabric shop that piqued my curiosity to fancy up our apartment; and two doors down was a new bar that I had never heard of but looked great for a happy hour.
I don't know when the last time I walked down this part of Sullivan Street, but it was like another world. Without even leaving my neighborhood I was transported to a street of unseen delights all set for the taking!
Its amazing how fast things can shift -- and no pun intended -- in a New York minute. From thinking I knew everything there was to know about my neighborhood of SoHo/Greenwich Village to feeling like I was transported to the UWS where I know nothing. Suddenly, there was a new love for my hood, a new spring in my step and a bit of pizazz in the air... Something new was just lurking around the corner, and a search for a new tailor led the way!
Its easy to get stuck in habits - from venturing to the same coffee spot every morning, to waking up at the same time everyday just because you are too tired to change the alarm. That's what these things - like a new tailor - force, is that we step out of our comfort zones, explore the things we know a little deeper and truly get lost in the unexpected.
Granted, not every search for a launderer leaves you feeling like you found the pot at the end of the rainbow, or maybe even a rainbow. But it adds more texture to your surroundings, and makes you realize all the things you don't know, and that feeling of innocence or maybe its re-entering your world, can be quite spectacular. Much like the southern side of Sullvan Street.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Let it Rain
Despite the fact that I am a sun-filled Leo by birth, and a sun worshipper by trade, there is nothing more soothing to me than a thunderstorm. One that is filled with gigantic, pounding raindrops, lots of lightning and the roar of thunder. When the sun-filled skies turn to the deep menacing grey and the storm rolls in, I turn to the most introspective of places and find myself wanting to get soaking wet, open the windows and let the storm take hold. To me its the most therapeutic of sounds, almost as if the world is making all this noise, and I can be quiet and just enjoy the feeling it has on me.
I realize many people do not have the same thoughts about such moments -- Wanting to run inside vs. having the rain soak their clothes. But I am different, and I guess thats what makes me, me.
Today my weekend of nothing began with a trip to Hudson Pier to soak up some sun. The sun was shining, the air was hot and it was everything I wanted. Yeah, New York! And around 3:30PM I headed back home, and hit a street fair on my way back to the village. In the time it took me to buy a pashmina and have a conversation with my friend in San Diego, the blue skies were less sunny and a storm was on the horizon.
I came home, opened the windows, and prepared for the storm.
I realize many people do not have the same thoughts about such moments -- Wanting to run inside vs. having the rain soak their clothes. But I am different, and I guess thats what makes me, me.
Today my weekend of nothing began with a trip to Hudson Pier to soak up some sun. The sun was shining, the air was hot and it was everything I wanted. Yeah, New York! And around 3:30PM I headed back home, and hit a street fair on my way back to the village. In the time it took me to buy a pashmina and have a conversation with my friend in San Diego, the blue skies were less sunny and a storm was on the horizon.
I came home, opened the windows, and prepared for the storm.
Friday, June 13, 2008
How to Live in New York
In August, I will have lived in this thrilling city for six full years. That's four longer than I ever imagined, and days like today make me feel that I could live here until I am 100 (as long as I can spend the winters on Jax Beach!). The weather today was warm and sunny, with a hint of a breeze, the perfect weather for strolling around and meandering wherever the wind blows. So at 4:00PM I left my office, and never returned... and simply went wherever the streets took me. (Which is mostly true, minus the fact that I had a dress appointment at 4:30.)
After my appointment, I restarted my affair with the city. I wandered the streets, stopping for an ice tea here, and to window shop there. Not caring about the time, or whose call I had missed. I went to stores that I had read about and left in a few minutes finding nothing there. I returned to favorite stores and spent many minutes looking at the same things I always do. I wandered home and felt very complete for a day well spent and an afternoon playing hookie.
Tonight, I grabbed a sandwich from my favorite sandwich place and headed to the park to savor the night time air and hear some tunes from the local musicians who hang out in WSP every night. I ate in quiet solitude, lost in my thoughts and the musical notes adding a nice soundtrack to my mental rhythms. Finishing my dinner, I sighed, as I watched homeless men jamming to the steel drums, a woman beside me on her laptop busy with work, and a family of four all worked up over a spilled ice cream cone... and I smiled to myself and shook my head... only in New York.
For it really is only in these huge metropolis cities where people of all walks of life come together, if only in passing, to share a bit of each others lives. Its only in cities like this that sitting on a park bench can be your nightly entertainment. And its only in cities like that you find that limitless ability to recreate yourself in almost every breath taken.
Someone once told me that you should never love something, that doesn't love you back. And in night's like tonight as I give myself to my city, I am the most loved person in the world.
After my appointment, I restarted my affair with the city. I wandered the streets, stopping for an ice tea here, and to window shop there. Not caring about the time, or whose call I had missed. I went to stores that I had read about and left in a few minutes finding nothing there. I returned to favorite stores and spent many minutes looking at the same things I always do. I wandered home and felt very complete for a day well spent and an afternoon playing hookie.
Tonight, I grabbed a sandwich from my favorite sandwich place and headed to the park to savor the night time air and hear some tunes from the local musicians who hang out in WSP every night. I ate in quiet solitude, lost in my thoughts and the musical notes adding a nice soundtrack to my mental rhythms. Finishing my dinner, I sighed, as I watched homeless men jamming to the steel drums, a woman beside me on her laptop busy with work, and a family of four all worked up over a spilled ice cream cone... and I smiled to myself and shook my head... only in New York.
For it really is only in these huge metropolis cities where people of all walks of life come together, if only in passing, to share a bit of each others lives. Its only in cities like this that sitting on a park bench can be your nightly entertainment. And its only in cities like that you find that limitless ability to recreate yourself in almost every breath taken.
Someone once told me that you should never love something, that doesn't love you back. And in night's like tonight as I give myself to my city, I am the most loved person in the world.
My Guilty Pleasure
I am aware that America is getting fatter by the minute. I have read Fast Food Nation. I have seen Super Size Me -- twice. And, I watch the Today's Show every morning where nutritionist Joy Bauer instructs American moms' on ways to get their children to eat more nutritous options and lead more active lifestyles.
I am aware of all these things, and yet on nights like tonight I head to what I fondly call "my dirty little secret". Out my apartment door, to the right 1.5 blocks and another right half way down the block, and there she is... Subway.
There is something about the sandwiches there that cause me to head there at the slightest twinge of a hangover. A night of drinking, equals a Subway turkey-and-provolone-with-all-the-veggies-on-whole-wheat-bread... and sometimes toasted! Its the best taste to me, and I savor it like you would not believe.
Tonight, while Josh is playing basketball, I ran to my dirty little secret, and got a sandy to go, and sat in Washington Square Park and listened to the local musicians strum away... while ranch dressing and pickles trickled down my face and threatened to ruin my white t-shirt. I didn't care though. I was in absolute heaven!
Now I realize, given the other fastfood options, that my choice is not the worst. But there is something about knowing I am indulging in "fast food" that makes it seem a little worse than it is, and makes "my dirty little secret" so much fun to keep!
I am aware of all these things, and yet on nights like tonight I head to what I fondly call "my dirty little secret". Out my apartment door, to the right 1.5 blocks and another right half way down the block, and there she is... Subway.
There is something about the sandwiches there that cause me to head there at the slightest twinge of a hangover. A night of drinking, equals a Subway turkey-and-provolone-with-all-the-veggies-on-whole-wheat-bread... and sometimes toasted! Its the best taste to me, and I savor it like you would not believe.
Tonight, while Josh is playing basketball, I ran to my dirty little secret, and got a sandy to go, and sat in Washington Square Park and listened to the local musicians strum away... while ranch dressing and pickles trickled down my face and threatened to ruin my white t-shirt. I didn't care though. I was in absolute heaven!
Now I realize, given the other fastfood options, that my choice is not the worst. But there is something about knowing I am indulging in "fast food" that makes it seem a little worse than it is, and makes "my dirty little secret" so much fun to keep!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Back to the Beach
Two days back from sunny Florida, and my mind is still trying to get off the beach and back to work. Mentally sunning myself from the happy time I spent with a special friend, doing the things I like to do -- spend hours in the sun, break for mojitos, ride bikes until the sun sets, and then enjoy easy conversation over wine and watch movies. Its the perfect life for me, and the life I love.
Six years in NYC is a long time. Four years longer than I planned to stay, and I do love my city life. However, as I know, I am an explorer and I know there are many types of life to explore. And maybe this beach life is something I want to explore more of...
As I contemplate my future in the city, it becomes less certain when I think of giving up my humble abode in the west village. Because once that is gone, more things will change. That will be when my 10 minute walk to work becomes a 30 minute commute. When the quaint coffee shop around the corner is replaced by obnoxious Starbucks. When my view of blue skies is shadowed by skyscrapers, and my Saturday's in the park become obstructed by the many tourists that flock there way to the bigger parks of Manhattan. My city life has been great... but as I watch as May comes to a close and each morning is still in the 50s I don't know how much longer I want these cooler temperatures and pricier life.
Maybe a sun-filled life is what I seek... and maybe now is the time to do something about it...
Six years in NYC is a long time. Four years longer than I planned to stay, and I do love my city life. However, as I know, I am an explorer and I know there are many types of life to explore. And maybe this beach life is something I want to explore more of...
As I contemplate my future in the city, it becomes less certain when I think of giving up my humble abode in the west village. Because once that is gone, more things will change. That will be when my 10 minute walk to work becomes a 30 minute commute. When the quaint coffee shop around the corner is replaced by obnoxious Starbucks. When my view of blue skies is shadowed by skyscrapers, and my Saturday's in the park become obstructed by the many tourists that flock there way to the bigger parks of Manhattan. My city life has been great... but as I watch as May comes to a close and each morning is still in the 50s I don't know how much longer I want these cooler temperatures and pricier life.
Maybe a sun-filled life is what I seek... and maybe now is the time to do something about it...
Friday, April 18, 2008
I think I can! I think I can!
I have been training for the ING 1/2 marathon since my last glass of champagne on New Year's Eve. I have been doubly excited for this because my oldest friend, Warren James Thomas, is running this too. Warren has come so far in the fitness category, I wanted to be there to witness his special moment, and decided to run along with him.
Training for the race was fairly easy. I would train at the gym because its cold in New York during the training months. I would watch my political commentary shows on Sunday mornings as I ran along. Piece of cake!
This same sentiment did not follow me to race day however. March 30 in Atlanta, GA did not present the usual spring like temperatures. N-O. The temperature was 44, and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
This was just the beginning of lengthy list of things that seemed to go wrong.
1) I never found my stride, or that mythical runners high.
2) There was no mile markers between Mile1 and Mile 4. Honestly, if after Mile 1 the next marker said Mile 2, I was quitting.
3) There were hills. There were no such things at my gym.
4) My knees were falling apart.
5) It was cold.
6) The only thought running through my head was "if you can do this without stopping, the marathon is not in your future!"
So I finished the race in one piece, and could barely walk for 4 days. But I did it. It doesn't seem so daunting looking back, and a full marathon doesn't seem so formidable. So maybe I will find my stride in November as the New York Marathon comes into mind again. There hasn't been much I haven't been able to do once I put my mind to it. And this is easy, right? Just one foot in front of the other... and watch out for the hills!
Training for the race was fairly easy. I would train at the gym because its cold in New York during the training months. I would watch my political commentary shows on Sunday mornings as I ran along. Piece of cake!
This same sentiment did not follow me to race day however. March 30 in Atlanta, GA did not present the usual spring like temperatures. N-O. The temperature was 44, and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
This was just the beginning of lengthy list of things that seemed to go wrong.
1) I never found my stride, or that mythical runners high.
2) There was no mile markers between Mile1 and Mile 4. Honestly, if after Mile 1 the next marker said Mile 2, I was quitting.
3) There were hills. There were no such things at my gym.
4) My knees were falling apart.
5) It was cold.
6) The only thought running through my head was "if you can do this without stopping, the marathon is not in your future!"
So I finished the race in one piece, and could barely walk for 4 days. But I did it. It doesn't seem so daunting looking back, and a full marathon doesn't seem so formidable. So maybe I will find my stride in November as the New York Marathon comes into mind again. There hasn't been much I haven't been able to do once I put my mind to it. And this is easy, right? Just one foot in front of the other... and watch out for the hills!
Flying the Friendly Skies
I love to travel. I love going new places, trying new foods and cultures, seeing the world from a different viewpoint, being in another world – if only for a little while. And I am really good at it too… I am not a difficult person to deal with, I like people and have a genuine interest in the world. Me and traveling get along like peas and carrots.
However, my love of travel forces me to constantly deal with my biggest pet peeves: people in airports and American Airlines. Let me explain.
People in airports are idiots. Most of them do not travel regularly and therefore treat everything like its a first time experience. They take photos of everything, including baggage claim, the hotdog vendor, and the taxi driver. They get hostile for no reason. They talk LOUDLY on cell phones. They want to yell at airline security for making them late, and create more of a problem for everyone else. And the worst, they put their bag in the overhead bin 10 rows before their row just to ensure they have a place to put their luggage. Which causes someone like me – who sits as far forward as I can – to store my bag in the back of the plane which causes me to be the last one off the plane. The exact opposite of what I was doing when I sat in the first row!
But people in airports are not as bad as American Airlines. I cannot stand this airline. If you have ever been to the AA terminal at Laguardia, you understand what I am talking about. This place is always a zoo. People are standing and sitting EVERYWHERE. There are never enough seats, or any decent food options to enjoy while you wait for your flight – its either the hotdog place or the pretzel place, neither of which is appealing, not to mention the nutrition value.
Then theres the flight process. AA is NEVER on time. And no matter how many sign-ups you do on their flight alert system, they will not tell you your flight is late until you are already in a cab headed to the airport. And then you are at the airport for an extended amount of time wanting to sit but not being able to find a spot, and wanting to get some real food but being stuck with a junky pretzel or crappy hotdog.
All of this happens before they switch the gate 3 times, which is super annoying, because if you have managed to snag one of their coveted seats you then have to give it up to go to the other gate where you are sure to stand, or be stuck sitting on your suitcase, wrinkling every article you preciously packed.
Then when its time to board – at the much delayed time – there is for sure to be even more of a delay because the crew doesn’t get the ball rolling until the time the board says the plane will depart. Most of the time they don’t speak loud enough on the microphone to be able to be heard so people stand about creating more of a hazard for others.
Its especially troubling on a day like today when I have been looking forward to a trip home for so long, and I am arriving almost 2 hours late, which means I won’t get to see my nephew tonight, and my stepdad will be hungry. It makes me feel bad, and that is what I hate most.
I will always travel, and I will always be forced to fly because I love the people in my life and they are far away, and the places I love to go are even further away. But I will not be happy about flying American, and whenever I am forced to, I will always say to myself “I told you so”… because I always know what I am getting into anytime I hit "purchase" at www.aa.com.
However, my love of travel forces me to constantly deal with my biggest pet peeves: people in airports and American Airlines. Let me explain.
People in airports are idiots. Most of them do not travel regularly and therefore treat everything like its a first time experience. They take photos of everything, including baggage claim, the hotdog vendor, and the taxi driver. They get hostile for no reason. They talk LOUDLY on cell phones. They want to yell at airline security for making them late, and create more of a problem for everyone else. And the worst, they put their bag in the overhead bin 10 rows before their row just to ensure they have a place to put their luggage. Which causes someone like me – who sits as far forward as I can – to store my bag in the back of the plane which causes me to be the last one off the plane. The exact opposite of what I was doing when I sat in the first row!
But people in airports are not as bad as American Airlines. I cannot stand this airline. If you have ever been to the AA terminal at Laguardia, you understand what I am talking about. This place is always a zoo. People are standing and sitting EVERYWHERE. There are never enough seats, or any decent food options to enjoy while you wait for your flight – its either the hotdog place or the pretzel place, neither of which is appealing, not to mention the nutrition value.
Then theres the flight process. AA is NEVER on time. And no matter how many sign-ups you do on their flight alert system, they will not tell you your flight is late until you are already in a cab headed to the airport. And then you are at the airport for an extended amount of time wanting to sit but not being able to find a spot, and wanting to get some real food but being stuck with a junky pretzel or crappy hotdog.
All of this happens before they switch the gate 3 times, which is super annoying, because if you have managed to snag one of their coveted seats you then have to give it up to go to the other gate where you are sure to stand, or be stuck sitting on your suitcase, wrinkling every article you preciously packed.
Then when its time to board – at the much delayed time – there is for sure to be even more of a delay because the crew doesn’t get the ball rolling until the time the board says the plane will depart. Most of the time they don’t speak loud enough on the microphone to be able to be heard so people stand about creating more of a hazard for others.
Its especially troubling on a day like today when I have been looking forward to a trip home for so long, and I am arriving almost 2 hours late, which means I won’t get to see my nephew tonight, and my stepdad will be hungry. It makes me feel bad, and that is what I hate most.
I will always travel, and I will always be forced to fly because I love the people in my life and they are far away, and the places I love to go are even further away. But I will not be happy about flying American, and whenever I am forced to, I will always say to myself “I told you so”… because I always know what I am getting into anytime I hit "purchase" at www.aa.com.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)