My Blog is Six Years Old Today and It Needs Your Help

Yesterday some one told me that reading my blog made her feel like a stalker.

I was taken aback by her word choice. Wow, really? Stalker? I get it, I suppose, reading my blog can feel like your following my life without me knowing it. But guys, I do know it. Everything I write here, I CHOOSE to share. I know full well anyone can and will find my words on this world wide web.

Do you view this blog as me airing out my dirty laundry? That is the cliché after all. Do my personal posts make you feel like my period-stained undies are flapping in your face? (Let’s all go EWWW together.) Let me assure you, I never put my dirty laundry on display. Clean laundry, new clothes? Yes. I might show you my favorite lacy bra, maybe a new pair of undies. (I’m speaking metaphorically. Don’t expect a “My Favorite Panties” Post, though I bet it would sky rocket my stats.) Even when I get personal, what I write is never me baring it all. This is only a slice of my life in the Big Apple after all. It’s filtered through my mind- that’s not a filter you’ll ever find on Instagram.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard my blog has made someone I know uncomfortable. “It’s too personal,” I have been told. Before this past week, I hadn’t written a personal post in quite some time. Were you relieved or did you miss them? See, I missed them. If there is one thing I have learned from six years of living in New York it is that “safe” doesn’t get you anywhere. Creativity is boring when it’s safe. When I say I’d rather be dead than boring, I’m only exaggerating the teeniest, tiniest iota.

Today marks the 6th year anniversary of the start of New York Cliché. SIX YEARS. Wow, there are very few things I’ve stayed committed to this long in my life. Would you believe in six years I’ve never regretted a single post I’ve written? It’s true. Now as my life goes, having now announced that to the world, something is going to blow up in my face tomorrow. Oh well, I’m taking that risk.

In six year this blog has seen me through a lot. The most valuable thing I’ve learned from this blog is finding strength in vulnerability. For a long time I was TERRIFIED of being vulnerable. DESPISED it, avoided it at all costs. This fear stunted my relationships and impeded my art. Then I started writing here, and it took awhile, but eventually I started sharing deeper pieces of myself, started admitting my fears and weaknesses. This was met by a bevy of support from you readers. Life changing- I am forever grateful. Vulnerability, you’re no longer my biggest fear. You readers helped me conquer my biggest fear! How fucking amazing is that?

Here’s another thing I despise…I hate asking for help.

I was on a picnic this weekend with friends. It was sunny and beautiful and perfect. And then it wasn’t. Then it was horrible and my head was spinning and the next thing I knew I was retching up my guts into an empty potato chip bag. I was violently ill and felt no better after thoroughly emptying my stomach. We were out in Queens, a borough away from the bed I longed and needed to be in! I lay on the picnic blanket, unable to move, my sick mind wrapping itself around the conclusion: I could not get home by myself. I felt helpless- it was terrifying. My friend Tom reached for the bag full of my puke. “No!” I said feebly, “I’ll do it! No one should have to touch that!” I was having trouble just standing up “Too late, it’s already done!” he said.

I had to let go and let my friends help me. I had no choice. No one was resenting me for needing help, no one felt obligated and annoyed by it. They’re my friends, they were happy to help.

It was a bit of an epiphany moment.

Why do I hate asking for help so much? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s cause I’m an only child. Maybe it’s because somewhere in my mind I believe being fiercely independent means never needing or never asking for help. How stupid is that?

I need help. Now. From you guys. There. I asked for it.

I’ve had this blog for 6 years and I’ve done so much in that time on my own. I’m approaching 3,000 subscribers! I publish multiple times a week! I was featured on Freshly Pressed! Brands are interested in partnering with me! Over 100,000 people have read my stories! But I want to take it to the next level, and that’s where I need help.

I’m nothing without you readers. And in this day of social media, the only way I will ever get to the next level is if you help me. Share a post you liked on my blog. “LIKE” a post when I post it on Facebook. Leave me a comment letting me know you appreciate what I do.

You may not know how valuable that is- OH SO VALUABLE. It would really mean the world to me. If you have ever gotten anything out of my blog- entertainment, schadenfreude- I hope you’ll consider it. I’ll never ask you for money, your support is worth infinitely more

So don’t be my stalker. Why not instead be my confidant? That’s the only way I’ll ever make it to year number 10! I hope you’ll help me out.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for getting me into year number 6. This isn’t going to be like a TV series, not like How I Met Your Mother, New York Cliché is only getting better from here on out. But I’m not on contract, some times your support is the only thing that keeps me going. xoxo

Hopelessly Devoted: Musings on Loves Past and Present

Today is a day I can’t help but think about the past.
(Didn’t really know where I was going with that in the beginning. Usually when that’s the case I end up with a vulnerable, from-the-heartkind of post. Which is exactly what this is. With some walks down memory lane- not to be confused with Mary Lane.)

I’m in the midst of re-reading The Great Gatsby, a book I know I studied in high school and believe I studied in college. My memory of all major plot points is vague but the feeling of excitement and romance this book instilled in me, even at age 15, is as clear as the water between East Egg and West Egg.

Isn’t it interesting re-reading books you read as a teenager? At age fifteen I couldn’t imagine anything more romantic than Gatsby’s unwavering love of Daisy. In fact, in my adolescent infatuations, one might think I used this iconic literary love affair as a model.

I vividly remember the moment my first crush walked in to my second grade class. In that instant, I decided this blond-haired, blue-eyed eight year-old would have my heart. I remained devoted to him well past elementary school graduation, even after we went to separate middle schools. I was 12 years old, hadn’t seen him in two years, and he was still the boy I would talk about at sleep overs. In eight grade I finally saw him, hung out with him and a bunch of his friends at a mall. I was at the age where the smallest thing is embarrassing, this was devastating. Still having a crush on this guy, seeing him in the flesh and realizing I didn’t know him at all, I thought I’d never recover from the embarrassment.

Shockingly, I did recover. Just in time to get a real, actual boyfriend in ninth grade. The relationship lasted almost four months which made it super serious by fourteen year old standards. He called me every single night, without fail. I don’t remember the first time he said it, but at some point he began ending every phone call with “I love you”. “Me too,” I would reply, terrified my parents would overhear.

I have a memory of him so vividly etched in my mind, it could have happened yesterday. Lying in his arms, bathed in sunlight on the floor of his bedroom, we cuddled. The door was cracked open a hair as his mother demanded and we were both fully clothed- we never got close to second base. He nuzzled his nose into my hair and sighed, “I will always love you,” he said. My teenage self played this memory over and over in my head, countless more times than I listened to Blink 182’s All The Small Things on repeat. I believed what he said and was convinced that this first love would be the love of my life.

We broke up and I hardly looked at another boy for the next 3 years of high school. No one could compare to this boy, who I fantasized into my soul mate. We remained “friends”. My heart leaped every time AOL instant messenger flashed his screen name. I’d stare at my buddy list willing him to IM me and he usually would. The time’s he didn’t, I was crushed. Sometimes we’d have long talks on the phone, well into the early hours of the morning. I’d leave for school having slept 3 hours but energized by these intimate chats.

Eventually time healed all wounds. Or something. But this guy will always hold a special place in my heart. In a way, he was my first love. He was certainly the first boy to ever care about me, who ever made me feel special. He’s also a cautionary tale. A realization that I’m prone to hopeless devotion. It’s dangerous.

Fortunately, I managed to break this pattern in my adult life. The jadedness of New York City has actually helped me immensely. I no longer fall for boys primarily shaped from memories and my imagination. I’ve grown older and wiser. Gatsby’s love for Daisy is no longer devastatingly romantic, now I see it as devastating cautionary tale.

But some things haven’t changed: I still fall infrequently and when I fall, I fall epically hard. Today marks the one year anniversary of the first time I gave my heart to someone. May 19, 2013 is when I said “I love you” for the first time in my adult life. You remember that story, right? How I showed up to tell him I loved him and found him tripping on a mind altering substance? And somehow didn’t take that as a massive red flag that the relationship was fucked? Hey, it’s one of my best stories. (Read it here!) That’s all is now, a great story and a cautionary tale.

I wanted so much to be in love then, wanted it more than anything else. Was blinded by it. What once seemed like an impossible goal, after my experience, I realize it was easy. I just lowered my standards. Now, I want to feel worthy of my high standards. Yep, folks, I’m just gonna say it: at present what I want more than anything it to love myself. Every thing about myself. That’s what’s made these past months so hard, realizing I don’t love myself right now. Yikes, I know. Sorry if that’s too much, too cliché for ya, but sometimes I need a “go big or go home” honesty moment.

Tonight is the season finale of my guilty pleasure show, RuPaul’s Drag Race. I mention this only because every episode of that show ends with RuPaul saying, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” I’m working on it, Ru, I’m getting there. Oh it sure is a process. But I promise y’all I won’t stop until I’m hopelessly devoted to myself.

May 15, 2014July 8, 2016

No Kissing Until The Third Date, Then I Binge on Oreos

It’s our third date and we still haven’t kissed. (Read about the first date: here.)

Not since my 9th grade boyfriend have I waited this long to kiss a guy.

On the first date, I’d dismissed the idea of a first kiss in a dingy, poorly lit subway station. The setting was so painfully unromantic, I couldn’t bare it.

The second date was a rushed affair, a quick Sunday brunch before I had work in the afternoon. We shared stories over eggs and he introduced me to his friends who happened to be sitting at a table across the restaurant. I smiled politely, glad he thought I was worth showing off but a bit uncomfortable I was meeting friends so soon. We folded our napkins, split the bill, and he graciously offered to walk me to work. Arriving at work, my co-workers seemed to be outside in droves. Ok, it was more like two of them, but two too many to smooch in front of. Thus date number two ended with just a quick peck.

fishkiss — A peck about as sexy as this.

Was I subconsciously looking for excuses not to kiss him? The thought crossed my mind. But why? He was handsome, kind, I enjoyed his company well enough. I agreed to a third date.

So here it is, the third date, notorious in many ways. Seen in some circles as the time you can start sleeping with a man without him thinking you’re a floozy. Seen in other circles as the time where if she doesn’t put out, fuhgettaboutit bro. The only circle on my mind this evening is that which lips make when puckering up for a kiss. This is it, if we don’t kiss on this third date, friend-zoning ordinances go into immediate effect. We both know it.

baby-otters-kiss — “Hey, you should kiss me this time. I want a third date kiss, mister!”

The date’s winding down and my lipstick has only needed perfunctory re-applications. The bartender asks if we want another round and I politely refuse. Earlier that evening we saw a play, one we both agreed to be the worst production of recent memory. Surviving such an atrocity of theater has bonded us. But not our lips. Okay, I’m obsessing about it now. This kiss is an unspoken ultimatum.

We leave the bar, he doesn’t kiss me. We start walking to the subway, he doesn’t kiss me. The same abysmal subway station where I refused to kiss him last time. The walk is half over, still no kiss. There’s a nervous energy between us. I know we fill the walk with words, but they’re just to fill the silence. We certainly don’t speak aloud what’s on our minds: This kiss is a fucking ticking time bomb! There’s too much pressure now! This isn’t fun anticipation, this is stressful! I hate ultimatums! It’s do or die buddy!

It is do or die, because now we’re just outside the subway entrance. He hasn’t kissed me. We’ve held hands the whole walk from the bar, we’ve flirted all night, we’ve even talked about how it’s weird we haven’t kissed yet. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he wants to kiss me. But he hasn’t! And he’s not going to before we descend those subway stairs! I will not kiss in that ugly subway station, I’m not changing my mind from last time!

So I take matters into my own hands. I grab him by the shoulder and pull him toward the elevator entrance of the subway. Out of the way of pedestrian flow, I pull him in and detonate time bomb.

We kiss.

prairie-dogs-kissing — [credit: Umschauen on Flickr.com]

There’s no explosion, no fire works. There is no weakness in my knees, my feet remain very much on the ground. It’s not a bad kiss. It’s like an Oreo cookie. I rarely refuse Oreos. I mean, I’d much rather have a macaron from any number of bakeries or a chocolate chip cookie from Levain. But put a bag of Oreos in front of me and I’ll absolutely eat one, probably 3. Get me drunk and I might eat a whole sleeve. Then feel kind of disappointed in myself and wonder why I did it.

There you have a metaphor for my love life recently. I’ve been eating Oreos. I know I should stop but it’s not that easy. They just keep appearing in front of me, texting me, inviting me places. Oh, sure, I’ll have one more. Maybe Nabisco has changed it’s recipe. Ha. I know that’s not true. I know if I really want sugar, I should treat myself to a cookie that knock my socks off! Stop eating Oreos, Mary Lane, come on.

Anyone with a sweet tooth knows this is easier said then done.

Thank you for reading. If you liked this post, please consider sharing it.
And if you follow me on Twitter/Facebook/Instagram I ♥ you as much as I ♥ NY!

May 14, 2014May 19, 2016

7 Reasons Why Everyone (Including You) Should Take an Improv Class

Improvisation initially sounds terrifying. You don’t know what you’re gonna say! Or do! What if you can’t think of anything? What if you’re not funny? It’s easy to dismiss out of fear: I could never do that. But that’s the funny thing about improv- anyone can do improv. Not only that, anyone can have fun performing improv. Okay, maybe not anyone. If you have extreme agoraphobia, I wouldn’t recommend it. But everyone else? YES, you can, AND I bet you’d even like it.

Improv changed my life. Yes that’s dramatic, but it’s simple truth. I took a class in 2010 and shortly after began acting in improv-based performances professionally. So it changed your life, now you can say you’re a professional improviser- ladeeda- that’s never going to be me. Performing improv changed me as a person. I’m not kidding!

improvbitches — Improv Bitch Possee: some of the finest ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of YES, AND-ing!

Seven Side Effects Experienced After Improvisation, You:

Get the hell out of your head! So often we second guess, over analyze, teeter-toter back and forth on what the best option is. When performing improv, you don’t have time for that nonsense. You gotta trust yourself. It’s amazing what a struggle that can be! But performing improvs a great way to realize how incredible your instincts are.
Trust yourself, trust others. In improv you have to embrace the people you’re performing with. You can’t control a scene you’re performing with another person. You and your scene partner have to discover where it’s going together. It’s a wonderful exercise in trust and team building. You both support each other, and you realize pretty quick that if your making your partner look good, it makes you look good. It’s win-win for everyone and an interesting concept to carry over into real life. It’s nice to remember people are on your side.
Live in the moment. You can’t plan ahead for improv performance. And once you’ve performed an improvised scene, it’s gone forever. You can’t live in the future, you can’t live in the past. With improv there is only the present. Exist in the moment. It’s an incredible, freeing feeling.
Exercise your imagination. No one wants to watch a scene about paying bills or running an errand. When performing improv, you’ll discover your imagination is what makes things special. Anything can happen, you’re only limited by second-guessing yourself and your imagination. Improv is really like a workout for the imagination. If you exercise it frequently, it’s amazing to see where it can go.
Embrace positivity. “YES, AND” is so much the foundation of improv that you may have heard of it before. What it means is accepting, saying YES, to whatever your scene partner puts into the scene AND building off of it. It’s vital for building interesting scenes, but it also has a real world application. We’re so inclined to say “no” these days, it’s usually the easier option. Open yourself to possibility. Saying “yes” opens doors, saying “no” shuts them. My mother always used to say, “Don’t say heck no, the answer might be heck yes!” I always hated when she said it, until I started performing improv.
Feel like a kid again. Improv, once you let go of fear and judging yourself, is super fun. It’s a big game! It’s bring you back to your days on the playground when you used to make up weird shit all the time, and never gave it a second thought. Improv will let you unleash the silly, it will free you from worrying about what other people think.
Have fun! Improv is never about trying to be funny. It’s about having fun. Who doesn’t love having fun?

297358_2125358827624_867545_n — Performing epic long form improv at Sterling Renaissance Festival with a pirate dream team!

Have I convinced you? I’m naturally introverted and improv has helped me SO MUCH with finding a balance with that and the extroversion my life demands. I’m so much more comfortable, less awkward, and outgoing because of improv. YES, AND it’s awesome!

Normally if you want to take an improv class, you have to commit to several weeks and shell out several hundred dollars. But Gotham City Improv is offering a great opportunity for anyone who wants to dip their toes in the improvisation waters. for $15 you get a one hour class followed by a one hour show. Try out improv, then relax and watch some!

Intro to Improv Pre Show Jam
8:30-9:30pm before each show:
(6:30-7:30 June 26)

Come sample a class, brush up your skills or just join in the fun. $15 covers class and show.

Long Form Shows: Fri, June 13 @ 10:00 pm/Sat, June 21 @ 10:00 pm/Thur, June 26 @ 8:00 pm

Sketch Shows: Sat, July 12 @ 10:00 pm/Sat, July 19 @ 10:00 pm/Sat, July 26 @ 10:00 pm

Short Form Shows: Sat, Aug 2 @ 10:00 pm/Sat, Aug 9 @ 10:00 pm/Sat, Aug 16 @ 10:00 pm

For reservations email: info@gothamcityimprov.com
or call : 646-513-1465

From their website: Gotham City Improv is a theater, school, and community of comedic actors in New York City. It was founded in 1987, as the sister company of the Los Angeles based improv company, The Groundlings.

Gotham City Improv performs both short and long form improv as well as sketch. The Main Company is made up of 22 professional actor/improviser/writers who take turns performing and writing for each show. Each show features 6-8 members of our talented company. Come watch some of the most innovative improv the city has to offer!
Visit gothamcityimprov.com for more!

feature image via https://www.facebook.com/GothamCityImprov/
disclaimer: I was not paid to write this post. I am, however, taking a 10 week class at Gotham City and having a blast!

May 13, 2014May 19, 2016

10 Reasons Summer In NYC Is Fabulous

Memorial Day is less than two weeks away. In recent years I’ve spent the weeks around Memorial Day looking for a subletter, packing up my room, and getting ready to devote my season to summer theatre. Not so this year! This year I’m spending my summer in New York City, and I couldn’t be more excited about it!

My first, and only, two summers in NYC were magical, at least that’s how I remember them. It’s been five years! There is so much to do here in the summer, much of it is free. Parks beckon, all grass becomes prime public real estate, and an early morning walk with an iced coffee in hand makes you feel NYC is the greatest city in the world. This is the time of year all seasons of Sex and the City take place. For a gal who’s first impression of living in the city was seen through the glamorous perspective of that show, summer feels like a return to idealized New York.

I know there’s a dark side, a sweaty under belly. The heat gets sweltering, things start to get smelly, I’m aware. But I love NY in sickness and in heat. I’m kind of a freak. As long as I’m not in Hell, I like the heat. I like never wearing a jacket. I like showing off my legs in flimsy dresses that barely touch my skin. I’m a New York Cliché- I live for strappy sandals. Those two summers I spent in NYC? I didn’t have AC for either. Yeah, you read that right: I survived 2 summers in New York City with no air conditioning. It’s my X-Men mutant power: being cold all the time. Yep, I’ve evolved to beat the heat. Fact: I have naturally low blood pressure. That said, I am getting AC this year. I may have mutant powers, but I’m too old for sweaty sheet shit.

Summer kicks off in a mere 13 days. While we wait, here are 10 Reasons Summer 2014 in NYC Will Be Fabulous

1. Governor’s Island is open 7 days a week for the first time ever! You know I love this magical island, accessible only by a 10 minute ferry from the city. Previously only open on the weekends, this year it’s open every day of the week! There’s always something specially going on here, this year Hammock Grove is getting the most buzz. Everyone’s new favorite summer hang out.

hammockgrove — Now NYC really has everything! Sneak peak of Hammock Grove via land8.com

2. A hybrid of an ice cream sandwich and macaron now exists. I talk about Macaron Day almost more than I do Christmas. J’adore macarons. Well the genius behind NYC Macaron Day, Francois Payard, has created this incredible new ice cream dessert. This is my summer diet, bikinis be damned.

3. You can see John Lithgow, Lily Rabe (and 2 whole awesome casts) perform world class theatre FOR FREE. Shakespeare in the Park has delivered some of the best NYC theatre I have ever seen. This year the season starts June 3rd to July 6th with Much Ado About Nothing then from July 22 to August 17th comes King Lear, a Shakespearian tragedy I have never seen performed! How do you get tickets to Shakespeare in the Park 2014? I worked as an usher my first summer in the city- find all my tips on scoring tickets: Here

4. My roommate got a job bar tending at the Frying Pan. The Frying Pan is a ship that sunk in the Chesapeake Bay for 3 years. Later resurrected, sailed to NYC, and now she’s a floating restaurant/bar harbored in the Hudson! Who doesn’t want to board a boat that was sunk for years? Besides, there’s nothing more summery than sitting on a boat sipping shandies, hanging out with your girl friends. I’ve heard it gets pretty crazy on Friday and Saturday nights, so this is where you’ll find me for early evening happy hours.

5. I’m running for the title of Picnic Queen of the Tri-State Area. I want to have as many picnics as possible this summer: after work, on the weekends, lunch hour. Hungry? Let’s have a picnic? The Frying Pan too crowded? Let’s go sit on some grass with contraband wine! I love picnics, there can never be enough.

6. I will finally watch Back to the Future for the first time EVER, on a big screen, sitting on a blanket, in a lawn, in a McCarren Park. Yep, never seen Back the Future before. Remember, it’s top of the list of Movies I’m A Freak For Never Having Seen? But this summer that will all change thanks to free outdoor movie screenings! NYC’s park host nearly 100 screenings from June to September. Blockbusters, classics, family flicks- there’s something for everyone. A comprehensive list of what’s being shown and where: here. Grab a picnic blanket, some friends, and a thermos full of white wine (er – grape juice if any one asks) and watch a movie in a park. A spritz of bug spray and you’re set.

7. Rompers and crop tops are huge trends. I’ve been into jumpsuits since 2008, my first summer in NYC (mention one in my 4th blog entry: 6/20/2008). Long, long before they became stocked on the racks at Forever 21. For some reason I’m proud of this fact, like it gives my fashion cred. The point is, I love summer fashion. I will not miss sneakers and sweat pants, the uniform of theatre rehearsals. Hello strappy sandals and sundresses, the suggested attire for summer city streets.

LESme — I bought this romper in 2009 and it’s more in style now than it was then!

8. If a crop top is still too much fabric for your tastes, I’ll give you a perfect reason to walk around town with no shirt on. Ever wanted to run a marathon but been to scared to? I have you’re fucked unless it’s truly catastrophic health insurance, I can’t afford to hurt myself running. But walking? That doesn’t sound so much like torn ligaments waiting to happen. On July 26th the second annual Moon Walk takes place. Walking a marathon, in the middle of the night, everyone wears decorated bras, and all proceeds benefit cancer research. This is what I was promoting last year in my bra! It sounds like a blast for a great cause. I met the woman who started it last year, she’s super sweet. Can’t wait to experience the energy of walking a marathon!

moonwalk — Girl power on a Spice Girls Level, the Moon Walk looks like such a fab event! via philzendia.com

9. I can finally attend The Jazz Age Lawn Party. Betcha read The Great Gatsby in high school. Betcha fell a little in love with the 1920’s. I know I did. My vivid imagination brought those parties to life in my mind and I felt a little sad my prom had some forgettable “Night to Remember” theme rather than “Pretend It’s Prohibition Era Cause You’re Underage!” The roaring 20s, art deco, speakeasies- all so easily romanticized. Here’s a party that embraces all that! For two weekends of the summer June 14-15 and August 16-17, Governor’s Island becomes a true time warp, plunging us back to this swell era. A fashion show of period (that means wool!) swimwear, live bands playing the hottest jazz, dance lessons. 1920’s attire is strongly encouraged. I’m gonna learn to Charleston, sip bathtub gin & tonics, and people watch ’til my heart sings! This event is not free, but it’s worth the (reasonable) ticket price. More info here.

jazzageparty — I’d seamlessly fit into this group. via thesalonniere.com

10. Coney Island in all its New York cliché glory and splendor. I’ve been to Coney Island on New Year’s Day to work an event at the Polar Bear Plunge. I’ve been to Coney Island at dawn on Easter Sunday to watch the sun rise. I’ve never been to Coney Island during the summer. I want to see the Mermaid Parade, ride the Cyclone, and eat and chocolate dipped cone on the boardwalk. It’s about time.

Mermaid-parade-2011_coney-island_new-york_untapped-cities — Crazy, boobalicious, and a blast: my impression of the Mermaid Parade, but I’ve never been so what can I say? via untappedcities.com

Let me know if you want to hear more of my reasons why this NYC summer is gonna rock. I know all my email subscribers got a long. unedited list yesterday- sorry about that!

What are you most looking forward to this summer? And what are you most looking forward to me covering on my blog?

May 8, 2014May 19, 2016

Camera Whores at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden

I can’t get enough spring. I’m seriously obsessed. After spending the morning in the glorious Conservatory Garden (see last post), I grabbed two of my best friends and spent the afternoon in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden!

The cherry blossoms were at their peak. I’ve gone every spring the past 3 years and this was the first time the blossoms met me in full pink, cotton candy-esque magnificence. It was a Saturday and everyone was taking pictures with the flowers. They’re so pretty, who can resist? Me and my friends Charlotte and Beth were no different.

But then we started to get carried away…

Work the camera, ladies, give me more…

I take that model bitch-face to an ice queen level!

You’re never gonna be prettier than those flowers so don’t even try!

I’m gonna stick my finger up your nose and call it artistic! THIS IS MY VISION!

It looks like cotton candy! Let’s taste it!

Beth and Miranda fell in love amongst the lilacs. The heavenly smell just makes that sort of thing unavoidable.

Miranda had a surprise for Beth! OMG a proposal? NO WAY! Good thing I was there to capture the moment!

Yes, Miranda’s hand is totally on Beth’s chest. They’re classy like that. And so in love they can’t control themselves.

When we weren’t being huge dorks in front of the camera, we actually admired the scenery.

And frolicked. It’s spring, you owe yourself a good frolic!

Flowers and friendship, silliness and love – these are a few of my favorite things. Get to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden ASAP if you can!

May 6, 2014March 30, 2016

Spring Splendor in Central Park’s Conservatory Garden

I love New York. So much I’d wear one of the t-shirts and risk looking like a tourist. Even so, I’ll be the first to admit this city can get you down. The concrete becomes oppressive, great colorless masses closing in on you. Some mornings the hustle and bustle feels like a mob is about to trample you. A rancid smell strangles you as you walk down the street and it’s all you can do to keep from yelling FUCK THIS.

You’re sleep deprived, stressed out, and you can’t even get a cocktail because they’re $14 and your broke. We’ve all been there, right?

This weekend I discovered the perfect solution to the “Everything Sucks/I Hate NY” blues.

I walked into the Conservatory Garden in Central Park and was overwhelmed. It is pure spring magic. The smell of flowers envelopes you. Color pops from every corner. This is a place where you can’t help but feel happy to be alive.

I love the contrast of skyscrapers, sky, and nature. The cherry blossoms are out and in full force in NYC right now! April showers bring May flowers– there couldn’t be a more true cliché this year.

I can’t call this anything but magical. Walking under the arches of the blossoms, petals float down like snowflakes. But it’s not snowing! I feel it’s safe to say it won’t snow for a long time! It’s really spring!

The pink looks so pretty on the pavement. I wonder if it’ll be carpeted in a week or so.

Hey, did you know me favorite color is pink? This is why.

Me, amongst the cherry blossoms and blocking the fountain in the background. Like my crop top? I’m kinda obsessed them this season. And also the pants I’m wearing. Yep, those are pants, not a skirt. So comfy.

Cherry blossoms don’t really smell. But lilacs do! Lilacs are my mother’s favorite flower. I wish I could send her some for Mother’s Day! These smelled so good I wanted to cover my face in them. So I did-

Walking the paths of the garden, I couldn’t think of anything else but “This is awesome”. No worries, no stress. It felt like a true escape from New York, but I was right in the middle in Manhattan!

There’s so much in this garden! Framed by the cherry trees in the background, so many other blossoms. We waited long and hard for this spring. I’m happy to report it was well worth the wait.

It’s a rainbow of tulips! I just want to spend every day in this garden. It is free, open to the public (usually, they’re closed this Wednesday, so don’t go then), and conveniently located in Central Park at E 105th. I rarely pressure people to go places and see city sites. This time, I’m pressuring you all. Every friend I see gets an ear full, You have to go to the Conservatory Garden. It’s an instant mood enhancer. Give me your tired/sleep-deprived/heartsick/frustrated/stressed/souls. I’ll take them to the Conservatory Garden where the magic of spring will raise up that cranky little soul of yours.

And if you can’t because you live thousands of miles away from NYC…well, I hope this blog post is enough for you to live vicariously. Perhaps you’ve seen better where you live! What’s the most glorious display of spring you’ve seen this season?

For more info about the Conservator Garden visit http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/conservatory-garden.html

If you visit, let me know! I’m on Twitter and Facebook. And if you like the pictures in this post, check me out on Instagram.

Thanks for reading. I ♥ you all as much as I ♥ NY!