Take the cheerfulness of rainbow sprinkles, add the cathartic value of a teenage diary and throw them together onto the dirty passageways of New York City. The result is a little NYC phenomenon called Subway Therapy.
Post-it notes of only one shape and size but all different colors are plastered all over the 6th to 7th Ave subway tunnel on 14th Street. Artist Matthew “Levee” Chavez started this and he started in 7 months ago.
There is little I love more than theatre, alcohol, and the company of ridiculous, talented nerds. Combine all these things into a small performance space in Greenwich Village and it’s like Christmas comes early.
It was a good first date. He’d kissed me at the wine bar in Chelsea where we shared drinks and a cheese plate. “Thanks for buying me cheese,” I’d said. “I know how you can thank me,” he’d replied, and then kissed me. Which was cheesy, but as I’d just thanked him for cheese, cheesy was appropriate!
First kiss out of the way, we were safe from the all too familiar first date New York cliché: the Subway First Kiss. This is a staple of the NYC dating scene: he’s going down town, you’re going up town and you say goodbye before descending to your perspective platforms. It’s a shitty place for a first kiss.
Once upon a time, long long ago, before the world was scary and we still had hope, I escaped New York for a perfect cliché Girls’ Getaway!
Except there was really nothing cliché about it.
Yep, all three. Isn’t that MIND BLOWING!? We had 3 cakes, one to celebrate each, because just calling it her *Bachelorette Party* seemed wrong. Guys, I’ve never eaten so much cake in such a short span of time. But each bite was laced with her sweet, sweet success so they were the tastiest cakes of all time. Read More
It’s been a strange, painful week. I’ve walked around New York City with a constant dull ache in my head and in my heart. New Yorkers are notorious for avoiding contact with each other, but everything about the past 4 days has been different.
Eyes meeting, a brief connection that maybe says “I’m here for you.” and definitely says “I won’t fuck with you.”
You can see so much in people’s eyes:
I never thought I’d see this day. It’s gray and rainy outside, my eyes are swollen from crying, and I feel that I’ve lost a dear, dear friend.
Good bye to the America I thought I knew. Today being American feels shameful in a way I never imagined. The pride I felt voting yesterday has fallen away, crushed into the streets like my “I Voted” sticker that fell off my coat somewhere around the Javits Center.
All my troubles seemed so far away…
The Javits Center is a giant convention center in midtown Manhattan, far west by the Hudson River. It’s where NY Comic Con is held, “All the best events of fall 2016 happen here!” I joked early in the evening. The convention center is all glass: glass walls, glass ceilings. It was perfect: Hillary would celebrate shattering the metaphoric glass ceiling under a literal glass ceiling!
I don’t really know what to do with myself tonight. I’m too anxious, too nervous, and maybe you are too.
