Happy Leap Year!

Aw yeah.  You're looking at a dark hot chococlate with a peanut butter barge cookie decorated with a 24 kt gld leaf.  It only comes once every 4 years, so why not indulge in the city bakery's Leap Year hot chocolate. And yes, it tastes just as decadent as it looks. 

East village graffiti

I walk down 11th street almost every Saturday to go to our favorite brunch place, westville east. Today, I noticed this graffiti gracing the side of a building painted gray. Not a new idea, but a nice reminder nonetheless.

Early May Day?

Not sure who, why, or what happened to these trees in Union Square, but the blue streamers match the color of the sky today.

Stillness

On a quiet weekday in central park, you can really feel the balance of both the stillness and the life breathing through the trees.  It's been awhile since I've visited the upper east side part of central park, where I spent many weekends in my first few years in nyc, and it feels like I'm visiting old friends. 

Automatic Elevator

I often take technology for granted.  While visiting a friend in an old, probably 1920's era building, I was gently reminded that there was a time when elevators weren't necessarily automatic...  which when you think about it, is just the tip of a very large technological iceberg. 

No Standing

These signs are every where in nyc, and mostly I ignore them. But put the same sign lying down on the sidewalk, and it gets a whole new meaning...

Canine Street Party

I'm originally from the suburbs, where you can let your dog run around the yard by herself, or take her for a walk a couple of times a day.  But before I moved to NYC, I had never ever seen the ubiquitous dog walker phenomenon. One person walking 6, 7, sometimes 10 dogs at time!  How did they all get along?  How did they all walk at the same pace?  How did one person manage all those dogs??  What happened if they all saw a squirrel at the same time??   I was mesmerized.  It still makes me stop and stare in awe and admiration to this day.

Anything Help

My very first time I visited New York City 17 years ago or so, I got off at Grand Central station, walked outside the train station, and was instantly mesmerized by the glittery sidewalks.  Little did I know what else NYC had in store for me.  It was all a blur of big buildings and people rushing about.  But the thing that really struck me was how everyone seemed to just ignore all of the homeless people sitting on street corners, walking through the subway asking for change.  I asked a local, how do you do it?  His response was that you can't help everyone, and after awhile, you just have to get used to it-- it's a matter of survival.  I couldn't believe I'd ever "just get used to" seeing that much pain every day.  And here I am, 17 years later, no longer a tourist, and living near one of the biggest local homeless populations, and though I never ignore anyone, I have definitely put up my emotional walls for that "self survival".  It's true, you can't give money or food to everyone, but I do always try meet their eyes with a smile, and sometimes a simple "I'm sorry, " which is more often than not met with a "thank you".  By now, I rarely read the signs telling stories of lives lost and hopelessness.

Last night, I saw this sign abandoned on a side street in the rain, with no one nearby, outside the comedy club where I had just laughed for an hour during an amazing improv session with Yo La Tengo and Beauty Love Truth. Normally I wouldn't have though twice about it, but something about just leaving the club, made me feel the starkness of contrast in my situation to this missing sign owner's, with almost the same sharpness as I felt 17 years ago.  I've hardened, sure, but the absence of the person attached to the sign at least gave me the emotional space to stop, open my eyes and heart just a little more, and really ponder for a moment, where she was now, and whether she found someplace dry to rest her head that night.  Small steps.

Smells like spring

The misty warm drizzle coating NYC sidewalks today smells like spring.  Mother nature must be confused.

"Worlds best" mac and cheese

Today was my first day as a lifelong tourist and I began by, what else, reaching out to a couple of true japanese tourists fumbling with a map in the middle of union square green market. I usually just walk right past, but as a tourist myself, I felt compelled to help if I could.  Which of course I could... I've lived here for 10 years.
And yet, who knew that the "world's best" mac and cheese was a mere couple of blocks from my front door all that time?  Alright, maybe just the past year or so, when Beecher's, an all natural cheese shop, opened.  I had been once, but never for lunch, and not since they opened their in house cheese factory, enclosed in glass and viewable to the public.  Two, 30 foot long metal vats, with curds and whey swimming in one, and in the other, 75, five pound bricks of cheese with a tofu consistency, being flipped by workers in white aprons and lavendar latex gloves.
And did the "world's best" mac and cheese live up to its name?  (That's it in the picture.)  Decidedly no, but it was tasty. And had I not stopped by, I wouldn't have learned about Beecher's cheesemonger chats, which are once a week or so, and feature topics such as "beyond brie" and "composing a cheese plate."  They're not free though, and at $8 a pop, let's hope a substantial tasting is included.  Either way Beecher's is worth a lunchtime visit!

The Lifelong Tourist.

Have you ever noticed that whenever you're a tourist on vacation, time seems abundant, everything around you is fascinating and new, and everyone has a story to tell?  If you have, then you'll understand this blog.  If you haven't, then maybe you need this blog as much as I do.  :)

I don't think I'm alone in saying that I struggle to stay in the present moment-- to truly enjoy, or at least accept, the moment, whatever it happens to be.  But when I'm travelling, it comes with ease.  Everything is here and now and exciting and new, and anything could happen at any moment.

The truth is, the only thing different about travelling and "normal life", is that usually you have a day job, and day responsibilities, that aren't conducive to say, climbing Mount Pilatus.  This blog won't be about the day job and day responsibilities and how to stay present in those.  Plenty of people and blogs out there can help with that, and since I haven't figured that out yet myself, that's not coming from me! (Check out some Eckhart Tolle to explore that new earth...) Instead, this blog will be about taking those pockets of time, even finding those pockets of time, and living them like a tourist:  with wide eyes and an open heart, ready to explore this world with a sense of adventure, and abundance of time.