there should always be more dancing

Sunday morning was rough. After all the late night fun at the wine bar, it was inevitable that I'd wake up feeling like I broke my brain. I thought I'd stay in most of the day and watch some trashy reality nonsense on TV while recovering. Two episodes into my marathon of America's Next Top Model season-fill-in-the-blank/who-cares, I get an invite to go dancing--IN THE DAY!

Though I was mucho hungover, I couldn't pass on going to an adult sized sand box with house music on a lovely Sunday afternoon. Phil is a fun dance partner, and a huge math nerd who loves teaching. I love these things about him, so I knew the afternoon would be enjoyable. We headed over to the Water Taxi Beach in Long Island City with one thing in mind, getting a good dance in. The sun set on Manhattan as kids chased each other around in the sand. Large groups of Asians took pictures holding the ever so popular peace sign pose. The smoke from the bbq filled the air with that nice smell of summer. There were people in the crowd dancing truly like no one was watching, but I was... The warm afternoon turned to night. They turned on the flashing red, yellow, and green palm trees and I went back to the dance floor for just a bit more. Latin house beats made me shake my hips and forget the doldrums of my morning slump. There really should always be more dancing.

perfetto

What a day! I woke up feeling rested, slowly drifting from strange dreams about being in a water ballet show with a dolphin to a reality of love in the form of text messages about yoga class with one of my most favorite people in the world. I leisurely got myself together and made my way to yoga with Eleni at her favorite huge, and rather awesome studio, OM in Union Square. After a great class we strolled around the farmer's market and got some groceries. A mint ice tea later, I was in heaven. Yes, it's crowded, and can be overwhelming, but I just love the market.
I have to admit, I am moved by seeing mass amounts of produce. Carrots piled up, beet roots flailing this way and that, baskets of lush greens pouring out all over, the smell of fresh herbs--it's like a spiritual experience. After the market we went back to Eleni's and May came to visit. We went up to the roof and had a beautiful dinner of sundried tomato and garlic polenta with mushrooms on top, a huge salad, and May's carrots, of course. The weather was just perfect. PERFECT! And the company was divine. We went out for a little saturday night fun, that ended in us actually, very easily, convincing the DJ to play Madonna for us. It was somewhat like how I'd describe my ideal day.

hello harlem, nice to meet you

I often say that New York city was my first true love, but after seven years we kinda grew apart. My first night back in NYC, Harlem is a totally new and different version of the city I thought I knew so well.

Me and NYC... we are both a bit older, we've seen some things in the years apart, and we definitely have grown. I'd like to think this time is going to be different, but I know better. At my core, I am still the same and eventually those same old irritations will remind me of why I left in the first place. I go into this knowing this is temporary, but I'm going to love every second of enjoying the good bits: like yoga with Eleni, and the farmer's market, hanging out on rooftops, picnics in the park, brunch in the East Village, late nights with some of my favorite people, mini-adventures to discover my new neighborhood, and just adoring this apartment.

I'm staying in an apartment filled with reminders of my artsy family, of the aunties and uncles that showed me a world of creativity and endless possibilities. This feels so nice. I am exactly where I should be.