Irene Loves Earl Grey Tea

This is after just an hour with her at Grey Dog.

Nowhere Else But Here

So my number has increased.  Since leaving my apartment just over a week ago I have slept in six different beds, in six different apartments, in six different neighborhoods.  Pull out beds, futons, box spring mattress, and memory foam.  I think there might have been a pillow top in the mix but I can't be sure.  What I am sure of is that I'm tired and my back hurts.

Most notable among the six apartments I've called home for a handful of hours was the eight foot by twelve foot one room apartment in Chelsea.  If you are spatially challenged like I am and need a concrete visual to picture eight feet by twelve feet then imagine a room just big enough to fit a Volkswagen Golf with the doors closed and the mirrors folded in.  The apartment had a combination kitchen/bathroom sink and a mini fridge.  There was a twin bed and a television on the counter next to the sink.  There was clothing hanging from the ceiling and there were two windows facing the backside of the adjacent micro-mini Chelsea studios.  No toilet.  No stove.  No shower or tub.  Only enough open floor space for two people to stand up at once and nowhere to sit down except for the bed.  To think that this kind of a home exists, and that people would pay money to live in a closet like this, there must be something about this city!  I drew my knees up to my chest and looked around the tiny space in awe.

I did my nails at Sephora the other day.  Did you know that you can walk into their Union Square location, use their nail polish remover, any of their polishes, their cotton swabs and Q tips and give yourself a manicure right there?  I certainly didn't.  But in fact it's totally allowed.  I think it's even encouraged.  I'd wondered into Sephora just to get out of the cold when I saw the rows of nail polish on display and all the women gathered around, bent over in silent concentration.  I looked at my own fingernails.  Chipped, dull, pretty terrible looking on that day.  And of course there was no nail polish remover in my overnight bag, let alone cotton swabs or the latest shade of polish by Esse.  I found a spot for myself in front of the dozens of shades of grey nail polish and went at it.  After that I sampled some Nars blush and eye shadow.  Then some Clarins hand cream.  A half an hour later I was on my way to work looking like I had just stepped out of the salon.  So this is how the poor Ford models that live in the Tompkins Square Park dorms always manage to have the perfect hair, latest manicures, and a makeup artist made dewy glow on their faces.

Only in New York.

"A certain darkness is required to see the stars." -quote from my yoga class today

On my ten year anniversary of living in New York I decided that it was finally time to leave.  My initial reason was simple (if absurd):  I was no longer impressed by the skyline.  I was particularly disappointed with the reconstruction of the World Trade Center and imagined that years from now, studies would show that once the Freedom Tower began to rise up our population growth rate would take a sharp turn downward.  I couldn't fathom the team of engineers and architects and designers that came up with what was coming into view and I was sure that other New Yorkers shared my sentiment.

As I watched the Freedom Tower rise over Fifth Avenue, each time I saw it from the Williamsburg Bridge or from the south on the New Jersey Turnpike, I felt disheartened.  Coming back from Christmas with the family, as the Freedom Tower glided into the window next to me on the Chinatown bus I realized just how un-majestic and unappealing it was for a modern skyscraper.  This is not an American monument and it's not much of a symbol of our city's comeback I thought.  The World Trade Towers were great.  And now they're gone, just like me, I wanted to say to the grey haired Chinese lady sitting next to me.  But she was talking to someone on her slim Samsung flip phone while tapping on the screen of her iPhone so I didn't want to interrupt.

Once I got used to the idea of leaving town other things around me started to look different.  I was not just dissatisfied with the Freedom Tower but I was starting to be dissatisfied with the entire city.  Of course this was a natural reaction; to protect myself from missing New York I decided that I really didn't like New York anymore.  Months went by before I realized that I was doing this.  In fact, I never would have realized I was doing this if a friend hadn't pointed it out to me earlier this week.  I've been here, but I haven't really been here, in this city that I have adored more than any other.

So my friend suggested that I let my last few weeks here be my love letter to New York.  One sentimental suggestion reminiscent of Jennifer Garner blockbuster was all it took and I was falling for the city that never sleeps harder than ever.  So expect the next post to be a little bit more up beat.

East 116th Street

Nothing like West 116th Street.

Homeless in New York

In the last three nights I have slept in three different beds. I'd like to say I was getting some action but I wasn't. I did watch a probable prostitute lick the face of an older male guest at the bar where I work but I can't claim any points for that. I'm even tempted to lie and say that I was partying a little too hard for a Tuesday and that I just had to crash where I was. But I wasn't and so I won't. No, I'm not waking up in new beds with new people. I'm just homeless in New York. I moved out of my apartment on Sunday and haven't moved into a new one yet. I have a couple of bags, I have my sneakers and a hoodie on, and I'm just here.

It's a strange feeling , not having a place to go home to. Changing in the locker room at the end of my shift last night I saw myself on the L train, going home to Bushwick, as I'd done every night for the past two years. In my mind's eye I saw that I got a seat, lucky me, so I opened up my book. But I couldn't concentrate. At every stop I sat up and looked for a clue but couldn't find one. Where should I get off? the me in my vision asked the empty train car nearing the end of the line. That's when I realized that I don't have a stop on this train, that I don't have a stop on any train.

Back in the locker room I zipped up my jeans, tied my sneakers, and decided to take the 6 train to Geneva's house in Spanish Harlem. I got a seat on that train but didn't bother to take my book out of my purse. I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate. Instead I looked at all the people and thought about how each of them has a stop on this train.

Geneva was making vegan chili when I came in. (Leave it to Geneva to make vegan chili at midnight.) So even though it wasn't home, it kinda tasted like home.

New Blog On Hold For...

Iv'e set out to write a book in ninety days. Today is day two and I have just over a thousand words. Not a bad start. I'm writing a novel about a vampire named Jason. Aside from being a natural killer, he's a nerd that can't catch a break. And that's all I'm telling you about that! Thanks for reading my blog. See you in ninety days.

PS: If you're interested, the new blog was going to be Good Taste Daily at goodtastedaily.com

New Blog Coming Soon!

You may have noticed that I have not posted here for over a week. I am on a summer break. Well, not a break exactly. I am more busy than ever. I am currently building a new blog that will be a lot like this one but better. The subject matter will still be food, fashion, and travel and I will still be the author but somehow I'm envisioning that it will be better. When it's done I'll announce the address here. I am also busy reading Stephen King's On Writing and Strunk & White's The Elements of Style. Sounds more like summer classes, no? And I'm still writing for citybuzz and YMI Obsessed. Are you looking for something fun to do in New York? Are you thinking of restyling your look to be more like a thirteen year old girl from the Valley but don't know where to start? That's what those two blogs are about. Hopefully the new blog will be ready in another week. Until then...

The High Line

Once a passageway for freight trains thirty feet up, the High Line is now a sleek park in the sky on Manhattan's west side. Up here there are views of the Hudson River, Chelsea's glass and steel luxury apartment buildings (and a flasher or two in their windows, I've heard), and the unmistakable Empire State Building towering over the city's skyline. A team of top architects and landscaping experts collaborated to create the sophisticated yet natural-looking surroundings of the High Line park. Think: wild dandelions sprouting up between the wood planks of a walkway dotted with glowing recessed lighting. And the people watching isn't that bad either. The High Line is definitely worth checking out; it's one of those few city spots that's actually enjoyed by tourists and native New Yorkers alike.

Yellow Nail Polish for Summer Into Fall

I'm predicting that yellow will be big this fall. It looks great with lots of unexpected hues but my favorite pairing is with grey. Here my yellow nails are offset by my grey Allsaints top and Stephan King's On Writing. Keep an eye out for yellow clothes and accessories in the next few months and into the fall.

Restaurant Week Midtown Lunch at Anthos

Restaurant week has been extended until September 6th - that's quite a long week. So far I've gone to Aquavit for dinner and Anthos for lunch. Let me clarity: it wasn't just lunch, it was a weekday lunch in Manhattan's midtown during restaurant week (or in this case, the first week of the two months). If you have ever had a meal of this description then you know that it's not just lunch. The saying goes "when in Rome" comes to mind because at lunch in Manhattan's midtown at an upscale restaurant during restaurant week you have no choice but to go with the flow.
Anthos was packed, tables upon tables with just water were jockeying for the attention of the completely overwhelmed waitstaff. My friend and I were on a forty-five minute lunch break along with the rest of midtown's suits and khakis at an hour an hour and a half minimum meal. After a frustrating fifteen minutes with just menus and water we gave in and decided to go with the flow - and by that I mean go all out and have a four course lunch. Here's what I ate.
Seared diver scallops with greek yogurt, strawberry and endive.
Sheep milk ricotta dumplings with spinach, feta, and leek.
Skate wing with couscous, calamari, carrot, coriander, and baby watercress salad.
Roasted peaches with honey ice cream and thyme shortbread.

And that was the two hour lunch. Every course was fantastic. This meal definitely ranks among my top five. And once we set our time limitations aside the service was just fine. This restaurant is highly recommended for lunch or dinner, restaurant week or not.