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my new york
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round these parts
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i’ve officially been on vacation since last friday. but because i didn’t fly home until late friday afternoon i had just enough time to get totally turned around and lost in the west village friday morning. i felt like a tourist in new york and it felt great. because i’ve been in the city for so long now, some of my very favorite moments happen when i stumble upon a street or cafe which i’ve never before seen and suddenly i’m transported. it always makes me feel like i’m somewhere else entirely: lost in europe, or visiting a friend in sydney. i think in many ways people like new york because it is so clearly someplace else. so for me, when i stumble upon that someplace-else-feeling, i end up imagining any place other than new york. and falling more in love with the city in the process.
but now i’m safely home in houston where i’m reveling in the comforts of home and desperately searching for a dress that both my mother and father think appropriate for my father’s retirement party at the end of the week. a few years back i wrote about how my mother encouraged me to go in search of some strapless dresses because i had some weddings to attend. turns out a retirement-party-dress is the antithesis of a attending-a-friend’s-wedding-dress. and pleasing everyone is proving nearly impossible.
but vacation is always a good excuse to shop. so i’m keeping at it.
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on how to be happy
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round these parts
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daydreaming on the train
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i thought you sat down on the train next to me today.
for a moment, i thought you sat down next to me.
{and i couldn’t breathe.}
there was something about how he shifted in his seat and held his hands and tugged at his sweater that made me think he was you.
and i looked up at his reflection in the subway windows across the way and right away i could see it wasn’t you.
{and a little bit of air escaped between my lips.}
but damn if the way in which he tilted his head didn’t feel like you.
and so i nearly didn’t believe it–couldn’t believe it. so much did i both want and need and fear he might be you that i made liars of my eyes.
and sitting there, next to a total stranger, i nearly reached for his knee, nearly pressed my shoulder into his, half-expected him to take my hand.
because if all i could get was a shadow of you, a ghost of you, an i’ll-just-close-my-eyes-and-pretend-version-of-you i’d take it.
if i couldn’t have you, i’d take someone who felt like you–even, and if only, for a moment.
i’d take ten minutes, on the train, next to a total stranger, and a sliver of a daydream.
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my new york
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what i’m listening to | ben howard
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happy birthday dad!
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today is my father’s birthday.
last night we had an early celebratory dinner (which when the dessert came my father had to basically announce that tomorrow was his birthday). which means, i didn’t know we were celebrating anything until the end. whoops.
but in my defense, how on earth did we get to june 5th already? is time just speeding up?
happy birthday dad, i do love you so.
(also, it should be known that because i am so my father’s daughter, when i make ridiculous faces in photos, i get that lovely quality from him. and this was the best we could get last night).
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my new york | the one with green and flowers and my absolute love for it
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my new york | that one saturday in williamsburg that we ate too much and drank too much and played a little bocce ball
If you don't already know. I've moved. Visit my at http://www.megfee.com/2013/06/23/my-new-york-that-one-saturday-in-williamsburg-that-we-ate-too-much-and-drank-too-much-and-played-a-little-bocce-ball/ to see this post on my new site.
(the moment i got really embarrassed to have my photo taken)
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my new york | the beach to the borough to the bathroom at the standard
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one of the most startling and advantageous aspects of living in new york is how very much things can change in a few square miles–a few square blocks, actually.
yesterday was one of those days that saw me take the train to the rockaways for a day at the beach, then home to brooklyn, before dressing up for a classic new york evening of drinks at the standard hotel and dinner at spice market in the meatpacking district.
flip-flops to high-heels.
some days it’s so easy to love new york.
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what i’m listening to | frank turner
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earlier this year i dated a lovely, lovely guy.
and i was absolutely terrible to him.
i lacked courage and thus behaved very badly in the hopes that he’d think very little of me and just walk away. (really not my finest moment). but a tremendous learning experience that turned quite a bit around for me.
he introduced me to frank turner. and for that i am in his debt.
this video is charming and lovely, and so you’re welcome. (the second song in particular).
gotta love NPR.
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before the wedding
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it feels like a very large handful of my friends have either just gotten married or are about to get married. it’s been amazing to see each one of them meet the right person and fall in love.
Joy and I have known each other since our very first day of college. that first year her apartment felt just as much like home as my small 26th floor dorm room. second year we mostly spent Friday nights watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating crepes. we’ve been through so much, both together, and not. we’ve seen eachother fall in and out of love with both good and not-so-good-men. and so to know that after nine years of ups-and-downs and good men and not-so-good-men and false starts and poor attempts she gets to marry the love of her life, well that’s a reason to celebrate if ever there was one.
it was a perfect night; a stunning TriBeCa apartment, champagne with drink straws and pom poms, tassel garlands, lingerie, a nearly-newlywed game, and just the right amount of happy tears.
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my new york | coffee shops, gelato, and a little bit of green
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It has been far too long since I’ve pulled out my Canon (the luxury of the iphone is that it allows one to take pictures relatively discreetly). But yesterday, wandering on the Lower East Side and then home to Brooklyn, the click of the Canon felt so good. And occasionally (often, actually) it’s worth the added weight in my purse.
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my new york | open windows, late-afternoon light, and blue skies
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(Not terribly sure why, but this picture gives me a case of wanderlust in the worst sort of way. Europe anyone?)
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September 11
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My small dorm room window at Juilliard looked south. I remember that much of the fall of that first year the city had two lights for the twin towers. Two lights straining skyward. And standing in front of my window they seemed so close, as if I could reach my arms the full length before me and touch them.
Looking south one was always aware of the absence. Of that bit of sky that went missing.
When the trees are in full bloom the only part of Manhattan I can see from my small Brooklyn apartment is the Freedom Tower. And I happen to think it is a beautiful building. I think its imperfect lines and the texture of the glass–how it reflects the changing blue of the sky–those things amount to something quite special. Suddenly, and all at once, it feels as though this building can be seen from anywhere in the city, or just over the river, as it were. And when the day is gray and hazy and the clouds are hanging low it disappears right up into them. Like it’s got one foot in this world and one foot in the next. Like its holy. Built on sacred ground. A living bit of history.
We move forward, but we honor the past. We honor those who lost their lives that day, and we honor the people we were then, so different from who we are today. People changed by the blue of that September sky. Forged by the attempt to build. Again. To make something true and good that no building, beautiful as it may be, will ever do justice.
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cooking in new york
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Because so much of our lives in New York are lived out in such a public way (I mostly only ever cry on the subway in front of total strangers) the act of inviting people into one’s home (a very private space in this mammoth of a city) feels incredibly intimate and meaningful. There are so many good restaurants here and I’ll probably never get through the list of new places I’d like to try, but some of my very favorite nights out are when my girlfriends and I gather in one of our apartments to break bread and drink wine and tell our very favorite stories without ever having to worry if the couple at the table next to us is listening in.
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Married in Newport
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I had the extreme pleasure of witnessing one of of my dearest friends marry the man of her dreams this weekend.
The whole thing was a dream. Getting to witness that very courageous thing of two people pledging their lives–one to the other is always a sight. Don’t even get me started on getting to see it set against such a picturesque backdrop (I don’t know that I’ve ever seen blue like that).
(the very dapper groom)
(someone told us to do our “excited” face…this is what happened)
When Joy was prepping everything and gathering information for the invitations she sent emails out asking for some basic info…like the name of our significant other. Joy knew I did not have one. But, for the sake of the email I reiterated this, and then gave her a very hard time about the fact that she made me put it down on paper for posterity. Yes, single. But I ended up with her roommate of nearly seven years, Matt, as my partner in crime. And ladies, I gotta tell you. Having a dancer as your wedding partner is one of the most genius things that could happen to you. I just sort of giggled and squealed and asked him to throw me, and he did. We literally spun the night away.
I’m so very proud of Joy and Devin. Proud of how far they’ve come, as individuals and as a couple. And it was such a blessing to share in their day.
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my new york | brunch and bikes and early september light
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(It took me about an hour and twenty minutes to get to Williamsburg last Saturday {it should have taken 25 minutes, but the G train was construction or something…} This is to say, I was hungry. Or hangry. So my brunch at Egg was epic. Bacon and sausage and pancakes, oh my!)
(I can’t get over this little park in Cobble Hill–always makes me think of the park in Notting Hill AND NOTTING HILL IS HAVING A MAJOR MOMENT IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW).
(I told you, pancakes).
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my new york | the brooklyn promenade, the green before the leaves turn, and the first pumpkin sighting
If you don't already know. I've moved. Visit my at http://www.megfee.com/2013/09/23/my-new-york-the-brooklyn-promenade-the-green-before-the-leaves-turn-and-the-first-pumpkin-sighting/ to see this post on my new site.
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friday night at the corner pub
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The corner pub has added a fire pit to their outdoor patio. Which I love, because if the windows to my flat are open, I can smell it from home. And it smells so delicious. Like fall and approaching holidays and everything good.
And on a Friday night, after a long week of work, sitting right near it with a small glass of whiskey in hand, chatting with my dearest friend about the good and bad and ugly, all is well.
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thanksgiving, part i
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Thanksgiving is my very favorite holiday.
And Colorado, well goodness I love this place.
And so much time with so very many family members…the best.
So much to say about it all, but that’s for another day, as bed is calling.
Returning to New York tomorrow morning is not something I’m terribly keen on, but it’ll be a busy week and I suppose there’s a blessing in that. However, these last few days, I barely even looked at my phone and I have to figure out how to make that happen more often.
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thanksgiving, part ii
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a very-mery-start to the Christmas season
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Last night was one of those perfect, perfect nights. I got to spend it with my friend Alisha, who may very well be the smartest person I know, as well as the funniest. We went to a really lovely party and had just enough booze that we decided it necessary to head crosstown for a baked potato and spinach dip. And because I am a person who almost always has a massive camera in her purse (and who almost always never takes it out), we thought it really important to pose along the way–just as ridiculously “model-esque” as we could.
The results were, inevitably, spot-on.
We’re thinking about sounding these out as Christmas cards…obviously.
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christmas in the suburbs
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Everyone always talks about–romanticizes–Christmas in New York City and I get it. Really, I do. But after living in Manhattan for so very many years, I gotta tell you, for me there is a magic in going elsewhere. In stealing away to small towns as only the Northeast can produce. There is a magic in a fully decorated house, magic in really big Christmas trees–the sort that would never fit into my small studio. Magic in lots of people being able to gather in one place. Magic in backyards with fire-pits and living rooms with fireplaces and dining room tables with stacks of Christmas tree Spode. Magic in wreaths on doors and lights on roofs and the warm glow of Christmas in the suburbs.
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