Wednesdays

Wednesdays are the best when they include silly inside jokes at work – pretending to be the Spice Girls. Telling your boss he should dress up like Mr. Bean and getting yelled at. Touring a new apartment building and escaping to the roof. A 4:00-5:00 happy hour with all things British, including Prince William and the Beatles. Taking four wacky photobooth pictures, and stealing a double-decker bus off the wall for my office decoration. Getting free tickets to Shakespeare in the Park from Veronica and getting to invite three extra people because she finagled additional tickets. Walking from work to the temple to practice the piano. Stopping to buy a cookie at Levain. Getting down and dirty with Debussy after a long piano hiatus. Meeting up with friends in the park. Watching a hilarious rendition of “Love's Labours Lost” with fantastic acting, singing, and even a marching band! Laughing hysterically when the four main characters break out into a boy band reenactment of “To Be with You.” Light rain and a cool night in Central Park. Free cupcakes. Creeping on one of the cute male stars of the play after the show, until he agrees to take a picture with us. Yep. Wednesdays like that are the best.

California Dreamin'

I just returned from a glorious seven days in Southern California, and while I will always defend New York City as the greatest city in the world, I must admit that Cali also has a piece of my heart. 

This is the view from our condo - and the current Jedi training camp in session. Each morning, I made a point of opening all of the windows and doors, and I soaked up the sunshine and fresh air like medicine. City life has me appreciating every bit of natural light I can get.

Dana Point and some good seafood.

My new favorite pastime is watching guys in wetsuits doing anything skimboarders.

After a mandatory trip to Balboa Island, I must conclude that "There's always money in the Banana Stand."

My love for Disney borders on unhealthy, but I'm not ashamed.

I took far more pictures of Cars Land, but I'll spare those of you who are enduring this mega picture overload...

Me, with the man who started it all.

"They can never get the nose!"

Cute siblings.

Possibly my new favorite picture. Mickey Mouse is my boyfriend - he even kissed my hand, twice! (What is it with me and shorter guys?)

Joseph Gordon-Levitt calls it "Angela's Plaza" in (500) Days of Summer. It's really called "Angel's Knoll," and it's filled with more homeless people than attractive young architect/greeting card designers. Bummer.

Seriously, since when did California become so photogenic? I swear I did not take one unattractive picture in all seven days.

If I could go back today, I would. And I'd see the World of Color at least seventeen more times. Amazing. Disney doesn't do low-key.

All in all, it was a fantastic week, and I'll be living through these pictures until I can find the money to return. I love you, California, despite what my fellow east-coasters say!

Like a Lamb

It turns out that the weather in New York City is quite unpredictable this time of year. The March adage of "In like a Lion, and out like a Lamb" is proving to be quite true. We've had some of the windiest, wettest, and ickiest weather these past two weeks, and I hope that the next two weeks prove to be just the opposite.

Yesterday proved to be one of the first lamb-y days, and I spent a couple of hours after work visiting some of my favorite stretches of green on this island.

Some baby crocuses deciding to peek up from the leftover fall folliage and show their true colors.

"Hello New Jersey!" This city provides many a magnificent sunset (and sunrise, too, but I'm rarely up that early).

Finally, a picture homage to Ireland, seeing as it is my favorite Irish holiday this weekend!

The Road Less Traveled

And not a cliche Robert Frost poem.

I - like almost every living thing - am a creature of habit. I follow an almost identical routine for the majority of my week, pausing on weekends to reflect and observe, as well as to do a thing or two that might be more out of the ordinary. Honestly, I have become so entrenched in my own day-to-day living, that it takes little jarring moments to make me realize that I live in an incredible city, surrounded by art and culture and diversity that many people do not get to experience.

It turns out that my life here is more normal than extraordinary. Or maybe these amazing experiences have become so commonplace that I'm a little more jaded than I should be. I see my neighborhood laundromat as a chore rather than a collection of humans and tumbling socks and sheets. Sidewalks are just a way to get from one place to another, and I ignore the cracks and stains, indications that millions of other feet have walked the same path.

But about once a week, I choose to walk home from work via Riverside Drive instead of Broadway, and the jutting beauty of Grant's Tomb and the Riverside Church reminds me that my life is far from normal, and I'm grateful to have the chance to live even a sliver of my existence in a place that so perfectly complements my soul.

I want to take advantage of the diverse paths of this city, using every opportunity I'm given to see things that I've never seen before.

Ode to the New Yorker

Have I ever mentioned how much I love New Yorkers?

They're a breed unto their own: no-nonsense, semi-crazy, ambitious S.o.B.s who will leave you alone as long as you don't mess with them.

I can't describe what it is about New Yorkers that I love so much. Maybe it's the fluidity with which they move down the street, dodging cars and people to get from place to place with as much efficiency as possible. Maybe it's because they don't put up with crap. People here will tell you what they think to your face, and you don't have to wonder whether Ms. Cashier is having a good day or not, because her facial expression will say it all. But most of all, I think it comes down to the ultimate harmony that I hear all around - good and bad coming together to create a beautiful, chaotic symphony.

I take it as such a compliment when someone tells me that I'm a "true" New Yorker. My disdain for Times Square, my knack for finding subway shortcuts, and for pulling off the austerity that most west-coast people lack - it all makes me feel like I belong here. And when I walk down the street and marvel at all of my urban brothers and sisters, I swell with pride to know that I am one of them.

I'm a New Yorker.

Self-Diagnosed Hypochondriac

Sometimes I feel a tingle in the back of my throat. If I wanted, I could suck on a cough drop, drink some water, pop an *antibiotic - the things that normal people do to alleviate their pain. But, no. I'm a curious person, so the only logical thing for me to do is to research the cause, symptoms, and prognosis of such a throat tingle.

Web M.D. is not my friend.

Many times has a light headache turned into a brain aneurism, stroke, alien abduction. There was that time that I thought I had fertilizer poisoning causing me to turn a smurf-ish blue; it turned out to be the dye from my new pants. Most recently, I attributed lightheadedness to toxic mold poisoning, when it more likely stems from dehydration, poor air quality (I live in a smoggy city), you name it.

I'm not dying. It turns out that I'm not even sick. The only thing wrong with me is that I have an obsessive need to find out what's wrong with me. It can be quite debilitating.


*I am in no way condoning the overuse of prescription drugs, specifically antibiotics.