Concrete jungle where dreams are made of...

 
Just back from a very happy few days in NYC. I was in Connecticut for the week for work, but had a few days on either end in NYC. What a treat. Aside from the mobs of tourists clamoring for glimpses of the Rockefeller Christmas Tree and the windows at Saks and Barney's, the city was perfectly pleasant (as long as the touristy areas were avoided-- which I did with the exception of a tactical error which took me right through the middle of Rock Center just before the start of the Radio City Christmas Spectacular matinée. Rookie mistake). But man, do I miss that City. I was lucky to get to spend quality time with my dear Lynn and Cam-- how lucky I am to have been "adopted" by them so many years ago when I lived there and to still have a close friendship with them today. Plus my Daves were visiting with lots of their friends but I was able to see them and finally meet my beautiful goddaughter Sophie Ladurée. And even better?? Montu and Casey came in for the weekend with their gorgeous littles Kieran and Maya. We had such fun hanging out, and I loved spending time with their delightful kiddos. I told MRN that he now has competition-- my new boyfriend Kieran is giving him a run for his money.


I hung out with my dearest of dears, Jes, who is kicking some serious bootie on Broadway (sort of literally). I seriously love this girl, and am so proud of her. We don't see each other often and talk even less often, but when we do it's like no time has passed and we just pick up where we left off. She took me backstage of her show "Warhorse" and I got to see her dressing room. And of course I had to take a photo. Yes, I'm so that girl. But I'm thrilled for her and had to document the moment!

Also spent time with my wonderful Mary, who's honesty and generosity never fail to amaze me. She effectively kicked me back into reality and also introduced me to an incredible facial product line that she swears by (it had me at dozens of masks-- my favorite facial product). She knows all the tricks.

I had a few nostalgic moments, as I am apt to have when visiting my favorite City. Yes, even after all these years, it's the City I love most, and the one that I'll always regret leaving (though, I do have pangs of nostalgia for Chicago too-- especially my wonderful neighborhood and the convenience of city living). The first was sitting in the bar lounge at the W Hotel in Union Square in the late afternoon with Montu, Casey, Lynn, the Daves and all the kids. I was on the floor playing with all the kiddos while the grown ups sipped sparkling water or champagne and was struck with the oddness of it all-- 10 years earlier we would have been there late night, enjoying a night out. It was surreal. Next came Christmas Carols at Brick Church, where they shut down a portion of Park avenue and everyone comes out to sing and to see the lighting of Christmas trees that line Park Avenue from 45th-95th streets. That brought back lots of memories of friends and adopted family, and a new one of holding my goddaughter and singing in her ear. The final was having a late dinner at Brother Jimmy's with Mary. Brother Jimmy's was the site of many a gathering back in my early 20s... birthday parties, graduations, nights out... lots of celebrations and good memories with good friends forged there. At one point Mary had gone to the restroom and I was distracted by a table filled with 20-somethings next to us... they were very jolly (drunk) and excited (talking at the same time) and singing. I got a pang of nostalgia, thinking, "that used to be us." It made me miss those days and my old friends. (Oh-- but they have an expanded menu that includes a buffalo chicken chopped salad... can we say to die for??)

Of course, life goes on and even though you have fond memories of the past, you realize that the present is just as good, if not better. Even still, sometimes I wish I could go back to those good times and relish them a little more thoroughly... time moves too swiftly for my liking, and I miss the girl I was then, especially because I feel like I've just begun to get to know her.

P.S. Shake Shack. If you haven't been, you must go. I can't believe I'm going to say it, but I think it's better than In and Out. Admittedly I had a cold and couldn't really taste much... but the part I did taste... man. It was worth the 20 minute line. Man, and if New Yorkers are queuing for food? It must be freaking good.

I Remember

"Over the great bridge, with sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of non-olfactory money. The city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world." F. Scott Fitzgerald

It's hard to believe that it's been 10 years. It seems like a lifetime ago...I guess in a lot of ways, it really was. I've moved twice (first half-way across the country and then to a whole new country). But no matter where I am living or what I am doing, every year when this day comes around, I always stop and remember.

I imagine it's the same for people who were living during the Pearl Harbor attacks. The fact that there could be a terrorist attack, on American soil, is unthinkable. We're lucky, though-- no foreign war has been fought on American soil since the Mexican American War (though that was only because Texas became a state during the War); and we are privileged to live in a place where there isn't fear of daily bombings or genocide or constant threat of terrorist attacks. Well, for the most part at least.

I've written about that day before; it's still not one that I like to dwell on and I still can't really watch the coverage or the specials or the memorials. Even ten years later it's too raw. So instead I thought I'd touch on the days after the attack-- how the city slowed down; How everyone banded together. It was remarkable, really. In a city where you keep mostly to yourself, you don't make eye contact, and you certainly don't talk to strangers, it was the complete opposite. People were kind to one another-- exchanging smiles, words of condolence or lending a helping hand. The donations were overwhelming-- money, food, clothes, offers of housing, cell phones. I, with a co-worker, delivered boxes and boxes of food and clothes to a salvation army center downtown where hundreds of volunteers were cooking meals for the emergency workers assembled at "Ground Zero" and providing a place to rest. And the volunteers-- they came in droves. So many volunteers that they had to turn us away. From around the country-- from around the world. It was amazing, really, to see how quickly everything mobilized. But it was the City's emergency services first and foremost that were incredible. I've never seen a force that big (40,000 police officers alone) assemble so effortlessly and in such a coordinated way. I think as laymen, we all knew it wouldn't last... that as the weeks went on, we'd eventually get caught back up in the hustle and bustle that is NYC. But for that brief time we were united... and for those there that day-- and I think every American who lived through that day, deep down, we always will be.

I wrote this passage five years ago, and I feel very much the same today. New York is something that gets into your blood and takes over your consciousness. If you're lucky enough to have lived there, no matter where you go or what you do, it will always be yours.

People think I'm crazy because I love NYC so much... "Why would you want to live there?" they ask. "It's so expensive, dirty... people are so mean." The reality? I can't believe that I ever left. It's the only place that I've ever felt was mine; a place where I belong; a place that I almost feel guilty for leaving. But in my heart, I know that I'll go back. Despite its faults, expense, general craziness, NYC is a place where so many people, of varied backgrounds, sensibilities, and, well, homes, come together to find a common ground; a place where all of these people who strive to be, and accomplish being, "individuals" can still come together and rejoice in being a single thing: A New Yorker.

A Few of My Favorite (NYC) Things

In my continued effort to organize (and categorize) my blog, I stumbled upon this list, still in draft form, that I originally wrote in 2006. I had lived in Chicago for two years by then, but clearly was missing NYC and my 7+ years of living there. The list still holds true today-- and there are countless more things that I could add. But at 60 things, it's probably a good place to start. I think 75% of the things on the list are food-related (restaurants, markets and food). Good to know some things never change.

*********************************

1. Astoria
2. Diners
3. Chocolate egg creams
4. Broadway Tavern (neé Station)
5. Lemonia (it's not called this anymore, but it's still some of the best Greek food you'll have outside of Greece... just look for the place on Broadway/30th street in Astoria)
6. Elias' Corner (Greek seafood and ornery waitresses in Astoria... YUMMM)
7. The Yoga Room
8. Buttercup Bake Shop








9. The notions district
10. The fact that I could get anything, anywhere, at anytime
11. MOMA Design Store
12. Central Park
13. NYC-only restaurant chains
14. The fact that you always get napkins with any food item you buy (even if it's just coffee) and that everything always comes in a paper bag (even coffee).
15. Street food vendors & ginormous cinnamon rolls.

16. Papaya King
17. Roasted chesnuts for your pockets in the winter
18. Good Enough to Eat
19. Theater-- all and any





20. The N Train
21. Eisenberg's
22. Subways in general, actually
23. That you always know where you are (except maybe sometimes in the Village)
24. That 20 blocks equals a mile
25. That even streets ran East

26. The Queensboro Bridge
27. 31-62 29th Street
28. My view from Apt. 6f

29. Kate's Paperie
30. Chat-n-Chew
31. Campbell Apartment (the bar/lounge)
32. oh-- and the Campbell's Apartment (1361)
33. Grand Central Station
34. 41st Street (between Madison and Fifth)
35. The New York Public Library
36. Dancing in the rain in Bryant Park
37. Karaoke in Korea-town
38. Brother Jimmy's
39. My little slice of heaven on 23rd street between 6th and 7th
40. That I never once made the street fair on Broadway in Astoria (but the NYPD always knocked on my door to let me know that I should move the car before it was towed)
41. Ciao Bella (both the original and the upgrade in Brooklyn)

42. Basillica










43. Mister Softee
44. Going to three different Tasty Delight's, in a three block radius, to find the right flavor
45. J.G. Melon
46. Eli's




47. Zabar's
48. Arthur Avenue (and Dominic's)
49. That in NYC there are three places-- in Manhattan ALONE-- to take the freakin' GMAT; in Chicago, there's ONE.
50. That in NYC, I'd be able to find the Merrell boots I want in about a hundred places (and in Chicago, no one's ever heard of them...).
51. That some of the best friendships of my life were made there.
52. That said friends made my last days in NYC the best ever-- accomplishing my "wish list" of walking over the Brooklyn Bridge; having drinks on the roof of the MET, and seeing the Public Theater's production of my FAVORITE Shakespeare play, "Much Ado About Nothing," in Central Park (starring fellow VC alum, Lorenzo Pisoni), all in one day.
53. That there are still so many things that I want to do there.
54. Montu and Casey dancing in the street.
55. Montu and Casey in general.
56. The Daves and their Times Square haven.
57. My soul sister, Jes.
58. The sanity to my insanity, Mary C.
59. The Conran Shop.
60. Christmas in NYC.

If I could go back in time...

I'd choose my NYC days. (Like you're surprised.) I was taking a trip down memory lane and reading some of my very old blog entries (I was funnier 4 years ago... age and life has seemingly stolen some of my joy). But this one made me smile... there's some of this person still in me.

I Am a New Yorker

Nine years later... seems like a lifetime ago. At the same time, it's like it was yesterday. My eternal gratefulness to policemen, firemen, armed services and their families who put their lives in the line of fire to protect ours.

I Am a New Yorker.

I heart NYC

Photos from the recent trip-- a foggy NYC dusk...

New York, New York

It was too short of a trip to my beloved NYC. I was so glad that MRN was able to find a last minute fare from England to join me for the weekend-- but the day and a half trip was a bit overwhelming for his first-ever trip to NYC. All the same, I had a wonderful time being "home" even though I only got to share about 1% of my favorite parts of the city with him. I DID however, get to cross one thing off of my "things to do before you move from NYC" list-- emmm... yes, there are still things that I never got to do (even after living there for nearly 8 years). And, I do still have the list. On it includes row-boating in Central Park. It was probably the only time that MRN felt "at peace" in the crazy, busy, noisy city that I love.

I Am A New Yorker

It's the 5th anniversary of September 11th. Of course we all know that. Even if we lived in a hole, the media coverage and people reminiscing with questions of "where were you...," there's no way that you couldn't remember... but truly, it's a date that no one will ever forget.

They said then that if you lived in NYC during September 11, 2001 that you were automatically a "New Yorker," even if you'd only lived there for a few months. It was a badge of honor; a badge of pride. I was late for work that day. My bosses were on a business trip in Asia and I had overslept. Starting my day with the Today Show, I was waiting for the weather report, but realizing I was really, really late, was just reaching for the power button when the special report cut into the broadcast with the news that what they thought to be a small plane had hit one the towers of the World Trade Center.

I stopped to watch the report, picking up the phone to call the office to tell them what had happened and let them know I was going to be late. I hung up the phone and stood in front of the t.v., bag over my shoulder, poised to walk to the subway. I watched the live coverage and saw the second plane hit the second tower. I picked up the phone to call the office and tell them what was going on and to get out of our midtown office building and try to get home.

I have never watched the post-event coverage; the documentaries; the recent movies. I could never bring myself to, nor could I ever follow the seemingly endless conspiracy theories expounded in the press. Seeing it first hand was enough; watching the live coverage as the shadow of the second plane skirted across my television screen and exploded into Tower 1; Seeing what seemed like paper floating out of the upper floors of the WTC and crying out in realization that they were bodies-- people who couldn't bear what they faced inside the building, thinking, and knowing, their only escape was to jump; Hearing the chirping sound in the erie silence after the towers collapsed-- the sound that the alarm that is affixed to a firefighter's suit when there is no movement makes so that rescue workers will be able to find a fallen comrade-- a sound that still brings me to tears and that I cannot bear to hear, even today; Sitting on my fire escape, watching the smoke billow from the WTC before it collapsed; Climbing to the roof of my apartment and photographing the smoke after it did; The sunset that night-- the most brilliant orange, pink and red peppered with gray and black-- from the fire and smoke emerging from the now commonly known "Ground Zero."

I watched some of the Naudet brother's updated film on CBS tonight. They were filming a documentary of a probie firefighter's (Antonios "Tony" Benetatos) academy experience and first blush with being a firefighter when the attacks occured. They could very well have sold their footage for a great deal of money-- but they didn't. They donated the footage and didn't take a dime for it... heroes, perhaps, in their own right.

I remember the World Trade Center... I remember the time I spent there; never expecting that it could be a site of so much pain... so much death. In college, I sang there with my acappella group; I stayed at the Millenium Hilton, across the street from the WTC, which was all but destroyed, for the final "hurrah" with my roommates in the Spring of senior year; I saw Eddie From Ohio perform at Borders in the basement of one of the towers; and often shopped in the mall in the basement when I had a dentist appointment at 26 Broadway; I met friends for lunch in the park between the towers, where all the street vendors and food carts convened; and I remember the night GCC took me for a romantic dinner at Windows on the World... and we were confused about how to tip the multitude of waiters-- the head waiter, our waiter, the host and the sommelier (and he called his mom to check). It was inconceivable that these buildings-- fortresses, really, could be so vulnerable; that all those people could perish.

I was lucky. I don't know anyone who died on September 11, 2001. But I know many who did. Friends who lost friends, co-workers and family members. GCC, a NYC Police Officer, was supposed to have been in court in lower Manhattan that day, but thankfully it was canceled and he was safely at home, asleep after having worked a double in Harlem. I, and his family-- who were all out of town and frantically calling me when they couldn't reach him, was relieved. If he had been at, or near, court that morning, he would have been one of the first responders to the scene. When I did finally reach him, I remember being in tears that he was okay; and I remember he being frantic that he couldn't get into the city to help. M.L., pregnant with Max, walked home from Soho, all the way to Astoria. Before the phones went dead, I was able to get in touch with C.M. who had made it home but couldn't reach M.P. We later learned that he had been trapped in his office building which neighbored the WTC when it collapsed; after being dug out he walked more than 5 miles home, covered in ash and soot, and upon arriving home, got into his shower, fully clothed, turned on the faucet and sat with the water pouring over him.

I haven't actually been in NYC on September 11 since that fateful year. In subsequent years I was traveling for business... and then I moved away. But it's not something I'll ever forget. I always joke that, when asked, I don't know where I'm from. But in my heart, I'll always be from New York... and NY will always be a part of me. A lot of it has to do with going to school in NY state and moving to NYC after graduating, and the combination resulting in the discovery of who I was and what I was made of. But some of it, too, is September 11... living through it and feeling the connection and camaraderie with fellow NYers. Sure-- time has progressed and life has resumed; but those who lived through it? Lived in NYC during that time? It's a connection that we'll always have... no matter how much distance we put between us; no matter where we move. It's something that will always be a part of us.

People think I'm crazy because I love NYC so much... "Why would you want to live there?" they ask. "It's so expensive, dirty... people are so mean." The reality? I can't believe that I ever left. It's the only place that I've ever felt was mine; a place where I belong; a place that I almost feel guilty for leaving. But in my heart, I know that I'll go back. Despite its faults, expense, general craziness, NYC is a place where so many people, of varied backgrounds, sensibilities, and, well, homes, come together to find a common ground; a place where all of these people who strive to be, and accomplish being, "individuals" can still come together and rejoice in being a single thing: A New Yorker.

"I don't think it's so much the severity of an event that alters who you are; it's how you interpret it that changes who you are."-- Tony Benetatos

"The legacy of the World Trade Center should not be one of death. The legacy of the World Trade Center should be life-- and humanity."-- Naudet September 11 documentary