Spac-ed Out.

photography art -
Photo from weheartit
Living in New York made me re-examine my ideas about the amount of space a person needs to live comfortably.  As a New Yorker, apartments are often likened to shoe boxes and "holes in the wall." 

On my starter salary, I was very lucky to find a two bedroom apartment on the very west side of Midtown West that I shared with a good friend.  Our kitchen fit neatly into a 4-foot hallway, our front door opened directly into our oven, and the toilet was uncomfortably close to the refrigerator.  We lived below a herd of dancing elephants, and had a mouse visit once or twice.  And we handled it all like pros.

A few years ago, I left the city and moved across the river to Jersey.  I love my new apartment, mainly because I get to share it with the Boyfriend and it is always filled with love.

But lately,  I find myself yearning for a little less hustle and bustle and a little more peace and quiet--hence the drive out to the 'burbs last weekend.

Growing up in the roomy suburbs, I had never really thought about the amount of space that was readily available to me.  I never doubted that I was lucky, but somehow, until moving into that first NY apartment, did I realize that, at least to me, space is important.  I'm not talking about a roomy living room or a spacious kitchen (though I'd like both of those), but more so about outdoor space--the ability to step outside and take a deep breath, go for a walk without worrying about stop lights and crosswalks and pedestrian traffic.

Maybe, just like a dog needs space to run off the leash, my mind needs some room to wander.  And so until I can find some space of my own, I'll settle for a drive out west and a day hike in the woods.

I'd love to hear your perspective.  Do you ever yearn for more space?   Or do you prefer the city life?



What are you looking forward to?

This NYTimes article reported that the anticipation leading up to a vacation can boost happiness levels more than the actual vacation itself.

We psych ourselves up imagining our toes digging in the sand, the cool taste of a cocktail in the afternoon sun, the lazy nap under thin sheets after a post-beach shower.  It is the anticipation, the vision of leaving our desk jobs behind, that makes taking a vacation that much sweeter.

I'm a firm believer that there should always be something to look forward to--even if it is something as small as splitting a beer at the end of your Wednesday.  The anticipation gives me a happiness boost and makes the event even more enjoyable when I experience it.

There are drawbacks of looking too far forward, I know.  The boyfriend will tell you I think more about being 40 than I do about being 27.

It's a delicate balance, keeping your eyes open to the joys of the present while still being able to focus on the next fun event on the horizon.

For now, I'm looking forward to a quick weekend trip to Cape Cod for (you guessed it!) more lobster.

Is anticipation the happiness drug for the human mind? What's your vorfreude?


Summer, List-ed.

I think you should know by now that I'm a list maker.  See here, here, and here.  I'd like to share my summer wishlist with you.  What am I missing?

1.  Eat my body weight in lobster: check!

Sammy, the lobster
2.  Take a vacation far, far away: check!

Les Calanques, France
3.  Take a hike above the clouds: check!

Le Pic de Marcelly, France
4.  Learn to swim properly: working on it.
5.  Ride a ridiculous roller coaster.
6.  Make blueberry cobbler.
7.  Read, read, read.  This book is currently making me laugh out loud!
8.  Drink rose at any chance I get.
9.  Go on a long bike ride.
10. Get back to blogging!
11. Eat more lobster... (I have no shame.)


I've Return-ed.

Hi Folks,
It's been a while.  A lot has happened since we last spoke: Google Reader retired (use feedly!), a future King of England was born, and the record for number of hot dogs consumed in 10 minutes was broken (69! gross!).

Oh, and this happened:

I fell a little more in love with the French countryside (I didn't think it was possible, either).  Here I am climbing Le Pic de Marcelly in the French Alps. At the top, we took in the view through the fog and feasted on a picnic of chocolate brioche, saucisson sec and of course, cheese.

I've been saying this for years--but I think this time I'm really ready--let's move to France.