luck o' the west village

Tonight, while I picked up groceries on my walk back from work and started noticing how much snow was coming down. Then I heard the faintest sound of Irish bagpipes...

Though my fingers were near frost-bitten, I had to turn the corner and continue towards the music, as if entranced. (maybe the Pied Piper was Irish after all?)

lesson # 60: let your neighborhood surprise you! and by all means, when you hear beautiful traditional bagpipes, stop for a moment and listen.

kickin' habits

Given today is Lent, and the new year started just a few weeks ago (okay, 6 to be exact), I'm thinking a lot about habits and the ones that I'd like to add to my life, as well as those I could probably do without.

Two years ago for Lent I gave up nail biting, and I'm still going strong today. I may not have the most manicured hands in town, but I'm proud to have a little white on the ends. I feel good every time I polish them, remembering how many years and times I thought I was a nail biter for life. I have also mostly stopped touching my mouth and lips when nervous, and both of these habits being broken has resulted in an unexpected side effect: getting sick less frequently. The flu shot and getting more obsessive about hand sanitizer has also helped.

This year, I want to add something. I will meditate daily and try to remove stressors from my life. Starting with Lent, 40 days, but hopefully continuing.

You know what's a big stressor to me, but one that I haven't been able to break? Running late. So so often. It doesn't always bother me, but when it does, it can feel soul crushing and anxiety provoking to say the least. But I learned a small trick to help with at least the traveling part of it, thanks to @seancarlson.

Lesson #59: The worst thing about running late and trying to catch a train is to have insufficient funds on your metro card. You hear the train swooshing past as you curse yourself for your lack of foresight, walk out of line and then defeatedly over to the card kiosk to add funds (hopefully using hand sanitizer afterwards, because even though you missed the train, you don't want to ruin your next week getting ill). What's the alternative? Refilling your metro card as you leave the train station, once you've already gotten to your destination. Even if you're in a rush, it is so much easier to refill your card (when low) as you exit the station than it is as you enter.

The nice thing about this tip is that it takes exactly the same amount of time and requires just a second of proactive thinking to potentially save you a few minutes (as well as stress).

Oh, and happy new year!

the witching hours

I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.
- Vincent Van Gogh

I can't help but reflect on hurricane Sandy this evening, 12/12/12 benefit concert blasting on another tab and my mind exploring the destruction. I feel lucky to have gone through it unscathed and to see how much the community and world is pitching in. That being said, there's so much still to do and it seems that recovery has only just begun. It's all incredibly sobering.

The one thing that still haunts me a bit during the week after Sandy was the power outage in the village and the resulting absolute darkness at night. We were without power Monday-Saturday (like pretty much everyone within a couple mile radius), but we made do by traveling around the city, backpacks full of books, laptops, changes of clothes in case we could shower. The days were interesting, but the nights were just unreal. Seeing total darkness in one of the busiest parts of the city. Dashing across busy streets, sans streets lights or stop lights, hoping the scurrying taxis saw us and cared enough to swerve. Hearing the sounds of voices without faces, and the lone band that congregated to play a few songs in the street.

The energy, though...it didn't leave the village for a second. It's hard to even think about how many people lost so much, but I'm so happy that the spirit of the city seems stronger than ever. My hope is that it only continues and that we all donate/give back what we can to those affected by this disaster.

lesson #58 in moving here: you can never be too grateful.

But speaking of starry nights, look what I got to see a few weeks after the hurricane - this Van Gogh has been in my bedroom at home for probably 10 years and it's currently at the MoMA. Since you still couldn't see the stars from my neighborhood during the power outage because the rest of the city still shone so brightly. Van Gogh's starry depiction will have to do!

Birds of paradise

I've wanted to have a pet bird for a while. Before moving to NYC, I seriously considered adopting one and teaching it to talk/keep me company after getting back from work. I could just bring it with me to my new home, right? Sadly, I came to the realization that even getting a bird is a commitment I wasn't yet ready to make.

Three years later, I'm still sure I made the right choice. But why the hell didn't I buy these bird decals for my wall earlier?!

(updated view, courtesy of Sean and Hurricane Sandy's loss of power)

Lesson #57: you can have it all, even if it's a fake version of it. I don't have 5 birds as pets, but I am reminded daily of how awesome they are on my wall, but without the constantly chirping/screeching reminders. If you can't commit to having a pet, I feel your pain, but don't let it stop you from pretending.

Ode to Red Hook

“Every dreamer knows that it is entirely possible to be homesick for a place you've never been to, perhaps more homesick than for familiar ground.” 

―Judith Thurman

Verging on 3 years in the city, I am focused on retaining the love for exploring new neighborhoods, which diminishes some of the homesickness about places not yet traveled.

One of the things I love best about living in New York is finding spots/bars/neighborhoods where you simply feel like you're thousands of miles away. Red Hook, pictured above (along with my incredibly resilient travel buddy), is a favorite sort of newly discovered spot. From the Jalopy to Sunny's, it's truly like no place I've been in my life. Plus, the sign pictured above is simply too bad ass to miss.

Lesson #56 in moving to a big city: Finding gems in your own neighborhood is hard to beat, but there's nothing as satisfying as venturing far, far away via public transit and long walks to find your own new neighborhood spots, as if you were a local.

Another tip: if you aren't a local, don't pretend you are - just be open to a new experience. In Red Hook's case, be open to hearing the cool dudes who've played bluegrass for 50+ years. Get into the music, drink lots of beer, clap and shout loudly, and maybe their coolness will rub off.

Searching high and low for hope

"You can't tie me down like a pair of shoe strings." Unless you're writing a hopeful quote and trying it to this pole. In which case, tie me down, please.

Lesson #55: Hope is all around, but you sometimes just have to get your phone out of your face to see it. (And yes, these photos were taken with my phone. But while out of everyone's the way. And while standing still).

The Highline and surrounding streets take my breath away every time, but its mostly because it turns the city into such an incredible backdrop that even the bright yellow taxis look beautiful.

(I can get some) Satisfaction

Here is a short list of things that I find ridiculously satisfying:

- changing from tight pants into a loose skirt, especially if it's hot out
- finishing chapsticks, big boxes of cereal, anything that seems too large to finish at first
- finding new bones in my body that crack
- getting out of New York
- ....returning to it

Lesson #54: "there" is never better than "here," meaning I'm learning to love whereever I am more than where I could be. Mainly, for the simple reason that I'm here, not there, and as long as I remain present, where better could I be?

Honestly, I feel so lucky to both live in the greatest city in the world (validated by yours truly) and also for the ability to travel to so many other great spots. It does induce a tendency to open the travel bug flood gates and think about all the other wonderful places to see, but as long as I remember that "here" is always the right spot for me, a little dreaming is a-ok.

Santa Monica, CA

Goodbye, Blue Brooklyn

Some moments last forever
but some flare out with love, love, love
- the mountain goats

this is the view of my normal (as of last week) commute home to Brooklyn on the C train. I'll take a video of the new commute at some point, but it involves only walking, trees, and some incredibly well dressed New Yorkers. After staying away for a couple years in the comfort of Boerum Hill, I'm a West Village resident again.

I'm really going to miss this place.

Lesson #53: Just because you move to a new place or neighborhood doesn't mean it's really goodbye. As my move back to Manhattan attests, I could one day call Brooklyn home again. I've literally gone from living in Brooklyn to Manhattan to Brooklyn to Manhattan again, as of yesterday. It seems I just can't make up my mind, but the great thing is you don't really ever have to.

For now, I'm going to enjoy my Subway-less commute, wonderful addition of a roommate, and lots of new posh, upscale memories to be had (well, probably just new).

say cheese!

(credit to the New Yorker)

"Your life leaves laugh lines, your love leaves bright bruises."

- the Hold Steady

I'm generally a pretty smiley person. I like to laugh and, well, smiling's my favorite.

When I was in high school, a boy I liked once complimented me on my smile by noting it's resemblance to Aerosmith's Stephen Tyler's jagged laugh lines. That was over 10 years ago, and I've grown to love my "imperfections," especially those that I've gained through smiling and being joyful.

However, it seems that this puts me squarely in the minority (and I suppose I should revisit this post in, say, 10 or 15 years).

I read somewhere that women tend to focus on the details, where men focus on the whole picture in terms of what each finds attractive. Maybe that's why some of the obsession with wrinkles and anti-aging has taken off so much, and not a day goes by that I don't see a woman that has poured more money into her face than most people spend on a house.

The thought of not being able to express my emotions fully, and non-verbally, is akin to having a nightmare where no one can hear you yelling and you're stuck in the same place, unable to move.

Lesson #52: I know this seems fairly ridiculous for a 27 year to say, but own your imperfections and the process of aging, even if it's relatively early on in the process. Lots of people have the money and time to "fix" theirs, but when does one draw the line? Beauty is in our imperfections, I truly believe. I suppose being a slave to surgery is an imperfection of sorts. Instead of giving in to the urge to change ourselves, I wish we'd keep it natural and all take a deep breath, smile without thinking about our wrinkles, and pop a Xanax.

2am kitchen tour

This past weekend was a great one, but I do have a true confession to make. I did something I haven't done in a long time. Take a deep breath as I continue.

After a particularly fun night out, I got home and promptly got into bed, but drunkenly realized I was hungry. I emerged from a state of half-sleep and turned into a Pac Man, eating everything in my path. The problem was that everything on hand wasn't exactly health food. After polishing off most of a frozen pizza (Amy's new vegan pizza was pretty awesome, I can sort of remember), I dug into almonds, chips, then a box of Saltine's when realized I'd hit a new low: eating food that is normally reserved for those that are too sick to keep anything other than crackers and ginger ale down. I promptly put the Saltine's down and marched straight to bed, though I found some leftover Valentine's candy on my way and chewed through that obstacle as well.

Lesson #51: keep healthy foods around, even if you're not expecting to eat at home. The worst feeling is being hungry and desperate enough to eat Saltines at 2 in the morning because nothing is open and you can't possibly wait for food delivery. Living in the city with everything has led to a false confidence that I don't really need to keep fresh food in my apartment, but in moments of drunken distress, I would've woken up much happier had my inner Hunger Games heroine snacked on pineapple instead of pizza.

Dammit...writing that caused me to also remember that I also polished off a container of dried pineapple on Saturday night. The good news is that I ate pretty much all of the junk food in my apartment in one fell swoop.