I have learned that living in New York City you find "intimacy" in some of the oddest places. Take my relationship with my coffee man as an example. Of course he knows how I take my cup, but he also misses me when I'm not there and thinks "I'm magic." His words, not mine. He was also quite stunned to see me walk in one night rather than morning, hinting that he knows my routine. Bet he would report me missing if I went an extra-long stretch before returning.
The city is a veritable playground of missed connections (just look online) - people in cabs, sharing a platform, queuing up to gain entrance to a bar, even trains passing on separate tracks. And to think who you meet-or don't meet-could also be influenced by your neighborhood. . . It's enough to send the cosmos reeling.
So intimacy - or closeness - both in proximity and that feeling you get when a spark transmits pops up in surprising and unexpected places, yes. I'm not saying it's between me and coffee man, but I am saying it exists.
Remember the threat of writing a sentence over and over on the blackboard? Yeah, me either. Too young perhaps. I do enjoy the retro charm of that image and that punishment. However, I prefer to think of it as a reminder - one that could even be positive.
Here's what I would be writing to remind myself today.
Another gray day. Another gray view. Phoenix on repeat, occasionally mixed with Hot Chip or Passion Pit, or whatever keeps me moving. Dare I say, my day would be infinitely better with these beauties (Alexander Wang Freja boot) on my feet?
This is a shout out to my lil bro - E. I met him long before I fathomed he would become my brother-in-law, though I like to think (and maybe did think) I knew he would immediately. When I recalled meeting him later that day/week to my sister it went like this, "I met a guy you need to date. Like now." The next year was pretty much filled with chance - or "arranged" - meetings and more convincing. Then it happened. They met, dated, fell in love, married and I have a brother - a family first.
You see, having a sister is without a doubt the greatest gift my parents ever gave me. Having a brother (via marriage) is one of the greatest gifts my sister gave me. I like to think it's mainly because it's E and he's pretty much fantastic. Eschewing the typical "sister/brother-in-law" relationship, E and I are family, and friends. We look out for each other, check in on each other, update each other and share with each other. On top of all of that, E makes these playlists called "Big Sis" and then he numbers or dates them. When I visited my favorite two in Boston last weekend, I, of course, left with a playlist of amazing new tunes courtesy of lil bro. (It is necessary to note that playlist has pretty much been ALL I've listened to since my trip.) I caught a glimpse of his library, full of playlists and saw the several dedicated to just me. Family first, that's E. And that's me.
From my latest Big Sis list: "Mallory" by Tigercity, "I Feel Better" by Hot Chip, "Something, Somewhere, Sometime" by Ben Solle.
I used to think I was so cool sketching the title of Lenny Kravitz's debut album all over my composition (yeah, I said it) book. I'm certain I didn't own the album at that time, but saw it on some older, cooler kid's notebook (ahem, 8th grade crush). Nonetheless, I was totally taken with those three words.
Then Lenny's lines began to take a different, more powerful shape for me. "Let love rule" - at once a suggestion and a command. Or maybe a gentle reminder. Let, love, rule.
In honor of Valentine's (the very word is beautiful to me), I'm raising a glass for Love. Here's to the most sought-after, abused, welcomed, shunned, perfect, imperfect, forgiving thing out there. Here's to Love sticking around. Here's to Love spreading. Here's to Love ruling.
Making the most of an early-morning calendar mess-up, I traveled into the East Village for breakfast. Stopping at B&H, a kosher diner with a quaint counter, I had two eggs over medium, their special home fries, homemade challah (back) bread, coffee and the cutest, tiniest cup of Orange Juice. Delicious. And even better for $4.25. So, it still exists.
Afterwards I stopped into the UPS Store to ship a package. The box I purchased cost $5.80. Maybe it was my 1950-priced breakfast, but I had a little sticker shock. Never fear, I'm back in the New York City of 2010 with its Food + Sex erotic readings satiating guests with Crif Dogs (might be worth going for one), Yoga in Central Park and yes, $20 glasses of bubbly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Schweppes Soda Water just got a whole lot more chic. All of their sodas did, but the glamorous redhead is my favorite. Where-o-where can I find one of these beauties that I will smuggle out in my bag (after I pay, of course) and reuse as a vase?
Schweppes Limited Edition Beverages designed by DeDonato.
It's not necessarily a bad thing, but I can buy a fifth of Bourbon (though not Basil Hayden) before I can buy a stamp. Any day of the week. Seven days a week, in fact. Thank you New York. Who shouldn't enjoy a pull on the way to the Post Office?
Publicist. Writer. Indie-company enthusiast. Loving life. I'm into sleek design, anything French and everything red. I love a challenge. I believe in the good in people. Traveling tops my to do list, always. I live in New York City and inspiration is in my daily vocabulary. I have been known to throw the occasional dance party. My sister is my best friend.