Tag Archives: New York

We weren’t in New York long. Just enough time for a trip to a few museums, a show, and for me to buy a pair of jeans at Uniqlo (they were so cheap that they stain my hands blue every time I wear them, and still I love them).

That jaunt to New York was a blip on the radar, sandwiched between other trips. But I managed to take a few pictures here and there (when I wasn’t forgetting my camera).

Here are ten shots from New York. I hope you like them.

  1. View from our porthole window, The Maritime Hotel, Chelsea.

    -
  2. Looking upward, Fifth Avenue.

    - (more…)

View out our porthole window, the Maritime Hotel.

-

Do you ever have those moments where you pull something off (a meal, an event, a project), and it comes together so beautifully, and was almost effortless, that you are tempted to think, “This is my calling. This is what I was put on this earth to do”?

I totally haven’t, unless you count cake eating, which I’ve been repeatedly told is not a calling.

Usually I have quite the opposite feeling: I’ll try something, and it will be such an epic disaster that I am able to say definitively that genetics and the universe clearly never intended for me to carry out these tasks.

(more…)

-

The trips, after a while, blur together.

That’s awful to say, but it’s true. The first time you visit a city is like the first time you kiss the love of your life. You remember every single detail: the shirt you wore, the walk home from the restaurant, the smell of winter in the air. It’s so clear that if you were to recreate it again from only your memory, you could do a fairly good job (but maybe you’d remember your skin as being clearer than it was and your hair bouncier, and who’s to say it wasn’t?).

(more…)

-

Rand and I spent a few days in New York City last month.

The city was bright and busy and full of crazy. There were a million stories being written all around us: tourists seeing their first Broadway play; couples falling in love; and whatever was going on with that drunk guy in Times Square.

Here are five of my favorite stories from one of the best cities in the world. Enjoy.

(more…)

There are locations and happenings that, in my mind, hold a sort of mythical status. They are things which I’ve long heard and read about, and if I am truly lucky, if my life is as truly charmed as I believe it to be, I am able to see them. The list is long and random, and I’ve checked off enough of it that, should I die tomorrow, I won’t feel entirely cheated.

(more…)

You are never gonna believe what this is.

-

Rand and I walked through the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, holding hands. It was early winter, and he was neglecting his work in order to enjoy the art.

This happens approximately never, so I was making good use of the time by squeezing his hand really tightly.

“Ouch.”

Love hurts, babe. Get used to it.

(more…)

I dreamed of New York for years before I actually made it there.

And when I was fortunate enough to finally visit, I found it was not as I had anticipated. The city did not twinkle all the time. In fact, only a few parts of it did, and we had to seek them out.

- (more…)

-

I don’t understand kids today. I’ve tried. But they are nothing like I was at their age. In my younger years, I did not swoon over effeminate beauties like Justin Bieber (we didn’t even have an equivalent in the mid-90s. We settled for a young Brad Pitt and we liked it). I did not have floppy hair. I watched black and white movies, was oddly obsessed with David Strathairn, and I really liked wearing sweater vests (it’s cool to be jealous, because I was awesome).

I was concerned about things, though. I remember that. Things like nuclear weapons and pollution and equality. Those memories of my youth, of a time when I got angry at things more substantial than some dude leaving his blind up on a plane, are what led me to Occupy Wall Street this past fall.

(more…)