This is the first installment of a new segment I’d like to do here on the blog. Life isn’t all about food (although we both know that’s important), so I’d like to share more of what I do outside the kitchen. Snippets of my adventures or thoughts on my mind. Join the conversation and share some of yours!
It’s a great day to be great.
Or so said the teenage boy performing on the 1 train as it sped downtown. I sat back in my seat, breathing freely since, for once, we weren’t all packed into the subway car like a bunch of sardines.
It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon with the occasional drizzle. But I didn’t care. New York was now my turf, not just a day trip. I could finally explore the flea markets downtown and find all the cute coffeeshops giving Starbucks a run for its money. Already I’d picked a bodega to get my fruit, mapped out my favorite routes in the neighborhood, and learned to cross the street like a local.
Waking up in the Big Apple every day for the last two weeks feels like I’m living the dream. There’s a rhythm pulsing through the streets of Washington Heights that works its way into your veins, like the smells that force their way into your nose. Maybe it’s because I’ve only been here a couple weeks that I still appreciate the lively character of the place.
But I don’t think I’m wearing rose-colored glasses. My refrigerator has been broken since I moved in, keeping my cooking at the bare minimum. Several voicemails later I finally reached the building manager to schedule a repairman, only to learn that he’ll come anywhere from 9-5. Turns out that’s just the way it works. I also made the rookie mistake of putting my newly refilled Metro card into my pocket instead of my wallet. Hopefully someone found it wherever it fell, so that it’s not a complete waste.
And yet, without the rough patches it wouldn’t be life. Days like these are what makes this dream a reality.
After a morning spent organizing my friend’s sewing desk and hanging up pictures on her wall, we headed out to the Grand Bazaar. I could spend rifling through the vintage menu posters, smelling essential oils, and nearly buying glass milk jugs to use as vases. (But I should probably get a bed frame before collecting knickknacks.) I also made the rookie mistake of putting my newly refilled Metro card into my pocket instead of my wallet. Hopefully someone found it wherever it fell, so that it’s not a complete waste.
And yet, without the rough patches it wouldn’t be life. Days like these are what makes this dream a reality.
Over the weekend I discovered the beauty of Fort Tryon Park, just down the street from me. The further in you stroll, the less you feel like you’re in the city. Passing several photoshoots, I saw my first real like quinceañera dress. Bright red and definitely hiding a hoop skirt underneath all that fabric. It’s the type of gown I dreamed of after watching Gone With the Wind.
Yesterday I researched bread baking in the New York Public Library. I almost couldn’t believe that I wasn’t there as a tourist.
Then, in an unexpected turn of events, I ended up at a free concert in Central Park. Even from a distance you could feel the energy of the New York Philharmonic’s conductor as he waved his arms, a performance in its own right. They’re performing again tonight, so maybe I’ll go for round two.
My mind keeps circling back to what that boy said on the subway. As I learn the ins and outs of life as a city girl, I realize how true it is. Because each day is a great day to be great. It’s up to us to choose to see it that way.
Tell me: how do you choose to make today great?
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