This winter I’m devoting every Sunday on this blog to SUN! (click for SUNday #1 and SUNday #2) What our skin lacks in Vitamin D we will make up for with our eyes! Together we will combat the winter blues, living vicariously through pictures of greener, sunnier pastures!
SUNday #3: California beach
It’s 34 degrees and raining in NYC right now. As soon as I finish this post I’m out the door to brunch with my roommates. Perfect New York Cliché Sunday. In contrast, the perfect California cliché Sunday is spent at the beach. Which I’ll be thinking of to make this weather dreary day just a little brighter.
This is neighborhood of San Francisco is called “The Sunset”, aptly named because it’s the best view of the sunset over the ocean. Which I’m here to watch!
SF dunes and silhouettes.
Ahhh the Pacific Ocean! Isn’t she beautiful?
See all my clothes? San Francisco beaches a warm when compared to NYC. It’s about 50 degrees- definitely not swimsuit weather.So many footprints and a jump for joy.There is nothing like watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean. Breath taking.A surfer headed off into the sunset! Believe me, he’s wearing a full body wetsuit!
Happy Sunday everyone! Hope you enjoy sunshine either real or reminisced!
Bryant Park in January? No one talks about Bryant Park in January. A walk after work on Friday evening lead to the discovery: this park is even awesome the worst time of the year. I don’t know why I’m so surprised.
There was a peaceful post holiday calm, but the decorations were still up. A huge Christmas tree still at the head of the ice skating rink. Though that was no longer the center piece, no longer the prized photo-op.
Nope, that was the fountain. When I first saw it, I thought the parks service had winterized it, wrapped it up in some sort of white casing. Oh no. Last week’s far below freezing temperature turned it from water feature to monstrous mount of icicles.
All the shops from the holiday market lay in pieces on the ground. All save one- Waffles and Dings, the dessert vendor, glowed like a lone candle still lit after a gust of wind. I couldn’t resist getting a cup of their belgium hot cocoa with last chance of the season rational.
Snow blanketed bushes, the white and green making fashion-design-worthy patterns. A person became accountable for their steps on the fake grass around the neglected ping-pong tables. The snow stood as evidence: no one played ping-pong since it fell. Even a bird brain could track a pigeon in these conditions.
No little butts sat on the wee red, blue, and yellow chairs of the Children’s Reading Room section. Snow is a bully, it’ll make you wet your pants.
The Southwest Porch lay abandoned. This outdoor bar stayed open through New Years but now it was hibernation time. The ghosts of heat lamps and holiday toasts still whispering through the air on freezing gusts of wind. A couple sat on one of the chair swings rocking gently back and forth. Peaceful. The perfect spot for a heartfelt conversation. Had they been speaking English, I would have eavesdropped.
Holiday cheer well past its expiration date still makes me happy. I’ll never complain about colorful lights in the midst of the January doldrums. Procrastinate all you want, clean up crews. If you’re delayed by the snow, I say, “So much the better.”
The next day I walked through the park again. Workmen carried pieces of the holiday shops. The final bits of the holiday season in NYC on their way out. My guess is, the tree was not far behind. I haven’t been back to Bryant Park this week, but I’d put money there’s no Christmas sparkle to be seen. I’m going to pretend I was one of the last people to see it (and appreciate it). That makes me feel magical.
The ice skating rink is open until March! Maybe ping-pong in the snow is fun. Definitely funny, I’d venture. The bar Celsius overlooks ice skaters and closes the minute the weather warms (March).
The subway comes to a sudden halt in the middle of the dark tunnel. Audible groans come from the commuters packed on the train at rush hour. This unexpected stop could well be the difference between on time and tardy. For those with time card to punch in, this delay may quite literally cost them. The conductor comes over the loud speaker. Crackling or muffled speech is the norm which New Yorkers can decode because we know the script:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are delayed because of train traffic ahead of us. We should be moving shortly. We apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you for your patience.”
This is the most common refrain. More often than not the train does in fact begin moving again within five minutes.
“Ladies and gentleman we are delayed due to a sick passenger on the train directly ahead of us. We hope to be moving shortly. Thank you for your patience.”
This variation on the script is not one heard often. But when you hear it you know you’re going to be late. Make yourself comfortable in that tunnel, because the paramedics have to be called, then arrive, and the whole thing is a huge mess. You’ll sit in the tunnel hating the sick person for making you late. And feeling like a jerk for hating this poor person who you hope is okay.
No one wants to be that sick person. Ever. It’s one of the average New Yorkers’ biggest fears. Right up there with bed bug infestations.
It is one of my New York goals that a subway announcement is never made about me. Yesterday on the morning commute I got way to close for comfort.
I’ve been temping in midtown all week at a 9-5 reception job. Which means when I board the train at 8:30 and off at 8:55, the crowds are peak. It’s how I imagine Times Square is on New Year’s Eve, but fortunately it only lasts half an hour. There is no personal space on these trains, you’re smooshed up against everyone, there’s hardly any room to me. But it’s nothing new, I’ve been on the train at rush hour countless times before. Which makes my experience yesterday all the more unnerving.
I’m on the D train, approaching 59th Street. It’s been a smooth ride, sailing express from 125th to 59th without a hitch. We’re in the final stretch, I know, I take this train several times a day.
Suddenly, with no warning, my vision becomes fuzzy.Stars start to twinkle in my peripheral vision. What the hell is happening? This is what it’s like when a person faints! This is what it was like the one time I fainted before! There’s no boyfriend to catch me now! I’m on a crowded subway! Could I be in a worse place? Why is this happening?
I start taking deep breaths, hoping that will help. Lack of oxygen is why ladies in corsets used to faint, right? But the stars are closing in, my whole view of the subway is sparkling and quickly fading into a tunnel of black. I sink to the floor.
On my own accord. I’m still conscious and now I’m squatting on the floor of the subway. I haven’t made a sound. I haven’t asked for help. I haven’t even asked for a seat. There was no time? I didn’t want people freaking out? I’m not sure, but right now I’m squatting with my head between my knees, struggling to remain conscious.
I realize my body is drenched in sweat, the kind of sweat pours out of you from fear. This sweat is primal, and uh, pungent. Oh my God, I’m the stinky person on the train! Every subway fear is being realized!
It’s funny to be surrounded by people and feel so alone. Subway commutes are so cold, eye contact is avoided, personal touch is inevitable and completely void of humanity. I’m an independent woman, I hate asking for help. But not asking for help in this scenario was likely to end in the blackest of black places. Still crouched on the floor I wondered what the hell I was going to do.
“Are you okay?” Asks a nice woman and she offers me her seat. I gladly accept.
“I feel faint. I don’t know why. Thank you.”
Suddenly everyone is offering me things. Suddenly it felt like everyone is on my side. Like the subway car was a community rather than individuals minding their own business. I don’t have to ask for help. I’m offered it.
“Here, maybe sugar will help?” One woman offers me a cough drop. Another woman offers me gum. It’s like everyone looks into their purse, realizes they don’t have anything helpful, but wants to try any way. “I have some water.” says a third woman, digging around in her giant handbag.
I refuse it all. Before I left the house I’d had tea with milk and honey. There was no reason for me to be dehydrated. No reason to blame blood sugar. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, but I do that all the time. Plus I’d had dinner around 9:30PM the night before. This fainting spell was bizarre, I can’t account for it.
Sitting down helped immeasurably and when we finally arrive at 59th Street, I feel strong enough to get off the train. “Feel better, hun!” Says still another woman. I’m off the train. The danger of being the sick person on the loud speaker is over. The relief is palpable. As is my love for New Yorkers. All those woman wanted to make sure I was okay. Can a moral boost make you feel physically stronger? I’d say so. I feel okay walking the few blocks to work. I grab a huge blueberry muffin on the way, sugar and carbs seem like a good idea.
And that was it. I felt fine the rest of the day. So. Weird.
I’m tempted to look up “Fainting” on WebMD, but I don’t really want to be convinced I have a brain tumor.
I did google “Fainting Spells” and this handy wikihow article told me what to do if I have one and what might have caused mine. “Stress” and “Low Blood Pressure” are on that list, two things I suppose I’m prone to. While this spell remains a bizarre one-time-only event, those are the causes I choose to blame. Should it happen again, I’ll seek true medical advice.
Now the morning commute doesn’t look bad at all any more. Delays and shoving people and armpits in my face and cranky conductors are all fine by me. I’m just grateful to be conscious and standing up.
This winter I’m devoting every Sunday on this blog to SUN! (I started last week: see here.) What our skin lacks in Vitamin D we will make up for with our eyes! Together we will combat the winter blues, living vicariously through pictures of greener, sunnier pastures!
SUNday #2: Walks around San Francisco.
On my late December visit to California, I was reminded walking isn’t just mad dash to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. A walk around town can be an enjoyable, sightseeing adventure. Walking is actually one of my favorite past times (when the weather is above freezing). Here are some pictures from sunny walks around San Francisco.
Walking down California Street in San Francisco, California. Cable car tracks below, Bay Bridge in the crack between the buildings.
Walk on Noe Valley on a super sunny morning. Not a notable street really, but it’s simple and pretty!
Look! In San Francisco they have mirrors for you to parallel park take selfies! #bloggerlogic
Lemons growing in this front yard- agh I’m so jealous (do you think they drink nothing but fresh squeezed lemonade?).
People have a lot more fun on the west coast when it comes to painting their houses. I love the aqua stripes and the purple flowers even more.
A sign stuck on the window of a car, the window is intact so I guess it works (hilarious especially to a New Yorker)? Also the reflection of my awesome bag of California tangerines (the produce is superior).
If you look all the way down this hill, you can see the red tippy top of the Golden Gate Bridge!
Sometimes you need a break from walking. Sometimes you’ll find a break randomly, like this completely random pig bench in Golden Gate Heights.
It makes me a total tourist in my home town, but I love a walk along the wharf.
Especially at sunset. Can you spot the Golden Gate?
California dreaming on such a winter’s day… I think this reminiscence of sun will get me through the week. I actually wrote this post bathed in winter sunshine, that helps too! Hope these pictures brightened your day, however cold it gets!
I finally rode the Roosevelt Island Tram for the first time. If you saw me at the station you would have thought I was a kid waiting in line at Disney World, not a NY local boarding public transportation. I’ve lived in this town for almost seven years and I still muster tourist-level excitement for NYC attractions. I refused to get on the tram that was full of people and about to leave the station. “No! We have to wait for the next one! I want the best view! I need the best seats!”
The Roosevelt Island Tramway connects the tiny residential and recreational island to the island Manhattan. The only other access is by subway. A couple of cables suspended north of the Queensboro Bridge is all it takes for this aerial tramway to fly across the East River. Flying across the East River is all it takes for me to flip out about how much I love this city. “This is so cool!”
There goes the tram car I refused to get on! That little car is full of 100 people who all just soared across the river.
“I wonder if it will be scary!”
“I’m going to take so many pictures!”
I apologize to anyone who took this tram with me. I was unabashedly obnoxious, spouting off insipid exclamations and running around the whole tram car to get different views. I suppose there’s a chance you found me endearing- the excitement was 100% genuine.
Up, up, and away we go!This is embarrassing. I was so excited that when we passed another tramcar I waved. Total tourist moment. How cool is this picture though?Hello Upper East Side!River crossed, now it’s concrete jungle and the streets below us.This is the what it looks like inside the tram. Crowded! I made my way through all these people to get a view from the opposite side of the tram car.Here’s a north side view as I made may way to the back.The opposite view! That’s where we just came from!On the ground of the Manhattan Tram Station. Destination reached.!
A little voice inside me said, “Again! Again!” I was strongly tempted to take the next tram bound for Roosevelt Island so I could get the view of that perspective. I resisted, “Who do you think I am, a tourist?” I squashed the little voice. “I’m a New Yorker! An easily excited and giddy New Yorker who’s still totally in love with this city…But a New Yorker just the same! I have shit to do, I don’t have time to take a trip back to Roosevelt Island just for the hell of it!” My feet were back on the ground of Manhattan.
If you live in NYC, do it- escape to Roosevelt Island. While suspended on a cable over a river may just find you suspend your jaded New Yorker tendencies. The cost is that of a subway ride: free with an unlimited Metrocard, $5 without. If you’re visiting the city, I highly recommend it too. This trip is not exactly a tourist cliché attraction and that makes it even more special.
Step 1: See your ex-boyfriend from across the apartment of a ruckus New Year’s Eve Party.
Step 2: Assume you didn’t actually see him. That some how, with no warning or reason, you have regressed to how it was when you first broke up and would hallucinate his form all over New York City.
Step 3: Start to freak out about this sudden and alarming regression, until your best friend at this party confirms: Yep, your ex-boyfriend is here. At this New Year’s Eve party thrown by your friends! Fine, mutual friends, you acquiesce. But you’re closer to them, figuratively and literally. This is the New Year’s Eve party of the boys who live across the street from your apartment. Your ex 100% knew you’d be here.
Step 4: Take a moment to figure out how the fuck you feel about this. You’re not exactly angry. But you’re not totally cool with it either.
Step 5: Discover the best word to describe how you feel about his presence is annoyed. You’re kinda annoyed he’s here.
Step 6: Find your bestie and have a quick bitch sesh: Why does he have to be here? Didn’t he have better plans? He knew I was going to be at this party, this is my neighborhood! No, no, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine. Really.
It’s just, this isn’t how I wanted to start the new year, ya know? I thought about this guy way too much at the start of 2014. My heart was still broken. Now a year later- there’s no reason he’d be on my mind- hooray! Except, oh hey, he’s right in front of my face. We’ll start 2015 in the same room! Great. Just great.
Step 7: Realize you could spend the whole night whining or let it go and have an awesome time at this party.
Step 8: Cease and desist all bitch sessions.
Step 9: Decide to let it go.
Step 10: Consider asking the DJ to play “Let It Go”.
Step 11: Decide against it. You don’t want the DJ (and everyone else at the party) to hate you.
Step 12: Jesus Christ, you haven’t been drinking enough. No seriously, all this happened and you didn’t even have a drink in hand! March yourself to the bar, young lady.
Step 13: Bump into your ex on the way to the bar. Oh right, that was why you were avoiding it.
Step 14: Exchange perfectly cordial small talk. It’s not even that awkward.
Step 15: Excuse yourself, “I really, really need to get a drink!” You’ve never spoken truer words.
Step 16: Drink in hand, make your way to the dance floor. There see your ex… and his girlfriend. The girlfriend who happens to be the reason he left you. The girl who happened to spend a summer stealing him from you.
Step 17: Suddenly find it harder to maintain your “let it go” attitude. At least you have a drink in hand. Remarkably, you don’t have any desire to throw it in her face! Maybe you really are okay with this!
Kinda okay with it. You’re also kinda annoyed. Still? Again?
Step 18: Dance with your friends while thoughts of My New Year’s outfit is way cuter than hers! and I’m totally a better dancer then she is! and Probably better in bed too! dance in your head.
Step 19: Feel smug for about 30 seconds, then-
Step 20: STOP.
Step 21: Realize you’re being a.) STUPID and b.) A BITCH
Step 22: Contemplate why you feel the need to compare yourself to this woman. Why it is so hard to shake the feeling that he left you because you weren’t good enough. That she was better. Well, she was better- for him. Not a better person.
Come on! This isn’t a new realization. It’s no longer something you just tell yourself but don’t honestly believe. Now it’s something you know. So why the fuck are you comparing yourself to her?
Step 23: Make a new year’s resolution to stop comparing yourself to other women. Hell, to other people in general.
Step 24: Actually look at the two of them, your ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend. See them together right in front of you and- damn. It’s just so obvious. Always was, really. You and he never really made sense together. These two? They’re fucking perfect for each other.
Step 25: Girl, you need another drink. Get your ass back to that bar.
Step 26: Flirt with a cute boy who offers you his bottle of Jack Daniels.
Step 27: While talking, hear the DJ put on -OMG- the most perfect song he could possibly play!
Step 28: Interrupt cute Jack Daniels guy mid sentence with a shriek, “I HAVE TO GO DANCE TO THIS SONG!!! SORRY!”
Step 29: Rush to the dance floor and SHAKE IT because the song that is playing is Shake It Off. Taylor Swift is here for YOU!
Step 30: Literally shake it off! Shake-shake-shake it off! Shake it with the fervor of a thousand suns!
Step 31: Think, “This song is literally my life right now”.
Step 32: Scream-sing the bridge,
“My ex-man brought his new girlfriend
She’s like “Oh, my god!” but I’m just gonna shake.
And to the fella over there with the hella good hair
Won’t you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake”
Step 33: Laugh. Laugh it up. Because really, this whole situation is hilarious. Taylor Swift just saved your new year.
Step 34: Let the song be your guide. There is actually a fella with “hella good hair” here! No joke. (You didn’t notice him before because you were being too stupid about your ex.) He’s just your type– tall, dark, handsome, and just a little goofy. Endearing as all get out and *ding ding ding!* a phenomenally fun dancer.
Step 35: Spend the first hours of 2015 completely destroying the dance floor in the arms of a phenomenally fun dancer. He picks you up with strong, steady arms and spins you around. You’ve always wanted a guy to do that and holy shit is it fun. You’re at the perfect level of intoxication. This DJ is seriously the best.
All your friends are here. Wow. Could there be a better way to start a new year?
Step 36: PFD (phenomenally fun dancer) bends down (yep, he’s that tall) to kiss you. Go with it. Make out a little. PDA with PFD. Hell yes.
Step 37: Leave him wanting more/when your roommates leave. On your way out, your ex sees you and shouts, “Happy New Year, Mary Lane!” Smile and shout back, “Happy New Year, Harry.”
Happy. Maybe the night didn’t start out that way, but that’s sure how it ended.
Step 38: Give PFD your phone number. Go on a date with him on Wednesday, the week after new years. (That’s tomorrow!)
Step 39: Blog about the whole experience. Some may say you shouldn’t blog about your ex-boyfriend but this story is too good not to tell!
I spent Christmas week spent in my hometown of San Francisco. Incredible blue skies and sunshine every single day I was there. As a New York Cliché one might expect I’m from a small town in the midwest. Nope. I’m a born and raised California girl. Usually when people learn this, the immediate question is, “Why would you ever leave???”
The answer to that question is a lot harder to come up with in New York in January. Don’t get me wrong- I ♥ NY now and forever. But winter in this city is rough.
So here’s the plan:
This season I’m devoting every Sunday on this blog to SUN! What our skin lacks in Vitamin D we will make up for with our eyes! Together we will combat the winter blues, living vicariously through pictures of greener, sunnier pastures!
SUNday #1: Color and sunshine from my Christmas in San Francisco!
This house is legendary in San Francisco for Christmas decorations. It even has its own Yelp page! I’d never seen it before and just stumbled upon it on a morning walk in the Castro.
Christmas decorations on a much smaller scale, it’s harder to go all out when you live in an apartment. A for effort!
Here’s another amazing house I found on the same walk. It’s permanent paint is a jungle mural! Snoopy and snow man look comically out of place in the rainforest- I love it.
Even trees in California loose their leaves. But the green of the garden below, the yellow of the sun, and the blue of the sky don’t make you miss them much. Plus the bare canvas makes the ornaments pop.
A gorgeous victorian house, bathed in sunshine and decked out for Christmas.
Disco ball bird feeder? Christmas ornament? Interpretive modern art sculpture? Your guess is as good as mine. Regardless it is so San Francisco (gotta love the palm trees too).
Sunshine, greenery, and a total Christmas explosion! I wonder what this house looks like at night, it looks so fantastic in the light!
Found this little Santa ducky lost on the street at the entrance of Chinatown. Christmas cheer even in the gutters.
Coit Tower, the TransAmerica Pyramid, and a Christmas tree all framed against blue sky! This is at Pier 39 in Fisherman’s Wharf- easily the most touristy place in the Bay Area…..okay I admit it…I love playing tourist in my native town!
Wow, just looking at these pictures seriously brightened my day. Hope they brightened yours as well!
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