Spac-ed Out.

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?

Peac-ed Out.

This morning on my way into work, I stopped at the small Rockefeller Center farmers’ market. I winded through aisles of ripe apricots, fresh greens, and homemade jams. I picked up a bunch of still mud-caked radishes, a loaf of freshly baked bread, and a handful of plums. This evening, the boyfriend and I have planned a picnic dinner on the Hoboken waterfront to celebrate the fall-like weather that has been gracing the Northeast the past couple of days. I wanted to pick up some fresh goodies to munch on (and it was a good excuse to indulge one of my favorite hobbies--food shopping).

Before I knew it, 30 minutes had passed. Thirty minutes sitting at my work desk feels like two hours. Twenty minutes wandering the farmers market, inspecting the produce, smelling for freshness, feeling for ripeness, passes like no time at all. I am never more at peace than I am when I’m with food. Perhaps it’s the earthiness or the sensory stimulation. Whatever it is, I could have passed the day there in those market stalls, tasting and wandering. This is what happiness tastes like to me on a Wednesday morning.

What makes you feel at peace? Is it reading a good book? Writing in a journal? Playing an instrument? Gardening? Running?

Sav-ed for a rainy day.

Any one else crave a rainy day every once in a while?

When I lived in Miami, it seemed like it was sunny nearly every day. Even when it rained, it usually blew through quickly, an afternoon tropical storm would pass through, dumping buckets over South Florida in an hour or so and then the sun would return. In the summers, it was almost like clock-work. Every afternoon at approximately 4pm, the skies would darken, the storm would brew, and by the end of my 5pm class, the air felt a bit cooler and the sidewalks would be damp.

As glorious as this weather sounds, I actually got tired of the sun--and not for the normal reasons you would expect. The heat, sunburns, and high electric bills (though all annoying) were not what were disenchanting. Every so often, we wake up and want to stay in bed, spend a day on the couch, nurse a cold or a bad day by never leaving our apartment. When it is gloriously sunny, warm, and the beach is a 15 minute walk away, you rarely ever feel it's possible to just stay inside.

As much as we can sometimes gripe about the weather in NY--the brutally hot summers and the winters that are equally as extreme--I love the weather for the rainy days.


Somehow I have caught a cold in between the back-to-back heat waves we've experienced here this summer. All I wanted this morning was a gloomy day--and good old NY delivered. Sitting at my desk, looking out at the heavy gray sky, I know this is just what the doctor ordered. I can feel free to stay indoors all day and start the movie marathon.


Sometimes, we just need a rainy day to feel better.

Spring-ed

With spring around the corner, I find myself longing for space.  I wish I had a backyard garden to grow big ripe tomatoes, fragrant daffodils, and fresh zucchini.  A place to sit and savor a refreshing drink while I collect my thoughts would be nice.  I'd love some fresh air -- air that smells like air and not any other chemical or human byproduct.  I'm forgetting what it feels like to go barefoot all day long, and how silence really sounds.  I'm losing my sense of nature, as it is slowly replaced with a sense of direction in this big city life. 

I hear New Yorkers describe the Big Apple as the best place on Earth.  I'd like to think that I've managed to avoid catching the Manhattan disease.  I still believe there is nothing better than a quiet seat somewhere in the middle of green, where you can't hear a car horn for miles, and the only lights on at night are the stars.

pic:weheartit

Review-ed.

At work we're doing mid-year reviews.  It's easy to look back on the past 6 months and pick out the trademark events that chart your progress professionally.  Earned revenue, profit margin, inventory.  Business is meant to be measured quantitatively.  But how does one measure a personal life.  In daylight, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter in strife? (Rent reference).

I thought it might be a fun exercise to try.  In the past 6 months...

1.   I have renewed a lease, signing on for another year in this magnificent city we call NYC.
2.   I said my first whispered 'I love you' to the number one man in my life.
3.   I made a trip back to my favorite country in the world, and climbed (in a cable car) to the highest point in Europe.
4.   I skied, I beached, I hiked, and I rollercoastered.
5.   I saw two friends wed, and one baby cousin born.
6.   I said goodbye to the best puppy there ever was.
7.   I lived through the best birthday party and worst hangover of my life.
8.   I witnessed my first grand slam. (Go Posada!)
9.   I enjoyed 5 days in paradise with 5 of the best friends a girl could have.
10. I learned that sometimes, you just have to have faith.  And a cupcake.
11. I shared birthdays, paid visits to out of town friends, and encouraged the dreams of those around me.
12. I took the time to breath it all in because life really is measured in daylight, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. 

Take a mid-year life inventory.  It's amazing how much you've done. Cheers to another brilliant six months!

I promise I'll be back again before then, though.

Walk-ed a mile in her shoes.

I've always wanted to be one of those fabulous New York women who goes to late night dinners and cozies up in a dark booth with her fabulous friends and a balloon goblet of wine the color of deep burgundy, laughing with big wide open mouths, and whispering secrets you'd only share with each other.  All in delicious plum suede pumps.

So, tonight I've decided to be that woman.

We've made a late reservation at Buddakan and laid out our Friday's finest.  I have every intention of taking a post-work nap, leaving myself plenty of time to shower and sip a cup of steaming cinnamon coffee while I apply my makeup and slip into my fabulous, but perfectly understated, black dress.  How blissful?!

Every once in a while we need a night where we can pretend we're everything we wish we were.  Every once in a while we need to walk a mile (or a few blocks) in someone else's shoes.  And tonight, mine just happen to be fabulous.

Rain-ed Out.

God, I love when it rains in New York.  Always uptight New Yorkers let out heartfelt sighs as they duck out of the rain and slide into barstools to meet friends for a neighborhood drink.  A constant stream of sunshine and brake lights reflects off the wet streets as yellow cabs go rushing by.  And NY women break out the boots.  Oh, the boots! The beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boots!

We climb the stairs to our cozy walk-up apartment to indulge in a steaming cup of green mint tea and a good book as we listen to the steady rhythm of the rain on the window.  The world is quieter, more peaceful, and best of all, we have an excuse to stay inside and get away from it all.

God, I love when it rains in New York.