I’ve been here since Thursday night. I always enjoy my time here, but I think if I had lived here full-time, it would have been the death of me: physically, financially, emotionally.
Friday, Shaheen woke up to me bubbling, “Wake up! Let’s get up and start our day.”
“What is wrong with you? Nothing here opens until noon. Besides, you’re on west coast time, I can’t believe you’re already up.”
We started our day with brunch at Cinema Cafe, then walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Amazing. I rarely do touristy things while I’m in NYC except for the museums and this time I wanted to play tourist, especially with Shaheen leaving NYC for good. I’d count the Brooklyn Bridge as one of my all-time favorite NYC moments.
We met up with Lizzie on the other side of the bridge (she had accidentally taken the Brooklyn subway stop instead of the Manhattan side), continued on to the Botanical Gardens and the underwhelming Brooklyn Museum, ready to come back to Manhattan for happy hour at Diablo Royale in the West Village and dinner at Morandi. After a whole day of sightseeing, drinking, and eating, we crashed at home to the heart-breaking movie Under the Same Moon. I absolutely loved the movie–cried through the last half of it. I urge everyone to see it. I think it’s one of the best movies I have seen in a very, very long time. It’s about illegal immigration from Mexico.
Saturday morning was low-key. Brunch at Moonstruck, then off to Times Square for an underwhelming touristy Duck Tour. Very lame. I think the Duck Tour in Boston is fantastic, but this one in New York wasn’t well organized. And it was hard to hear the tour guide.
Shaheen made the point that it’s difficult to do too many things in one day in NYC. Logistically, everything is a challenge. That rang true the whole weekend. Trying to meet up with people, syncing up everyone’s schedule, factoring in cab time, texting delays. Planning is a nightmare. Everything in California seems so much easier.
Fabulous dinner that night at Bond Street, then partying all night long for Shaheen’s going away at an underground bar called Jacques. We were there until 3:30, went out to eat afterwards, then shut my eyes to sleep a few seconds before 6am. I made the mistake of splitting my time between two guys at the bar which ended up with them both just getting frustrated with me. “I don’t know why you’re talking to that other guy. Am I ruining your game? Do you want me to leave you alone so you can talk to that guy?” “Oh no, I like talking to you. That other guy is just a friend.” It wasn’t worth the stress. I should have just picked one guy and gone with it, but I don’t have that kind of personality. I like to keep all my options open.
One of the guys from that night texted the next day “It’s your future fiance here. What have you got going on for today?” I never responded. I can’t have a fling with a New Yorker. Those days are over.
I was up at 10am on Sunday. That’s four hours of sleep. FOUR. Me, Lizzie, and Carey headed to the Cupping Room for brunch, walked around Soho, had drinks at the newly-opened bar Elizabeth and sat there drinking through the summer thunderstorms. I made it home in time to get changed, then turn back around for dinner down in the East Village at Cafe Mogador and apres dinner yogurt at 16 Handles.
Monday, last day. Falai in Nolita for brunch and drinks. Walked around for literally a few blocks, then headed to Balthazar in Soho for Bloody Mary’s. That was it. That was my several days and a weekend of vacation. It seems like all we did in NYC was eat, drink, subway, eat, drink, cab.