Week Eight.

Photo Eight.

Observations: If you knew me as a kid, a tween, a teen, or if you know me now you have probably hear me talk about wanting to move to New York City. For as long as I can remember that has been my dream. I am not quite sure what sparked this. Surely all the movies I watched growing up feeding me the romantic idea of the city of lights had something to do with this notion. As I grew up I also heard not so glimmering tales of my city of dreams. My father was one major purveyor of filthy and crime-ridden ideas gleaned from a 1970s venture to New York. However, the grime and crime only served to enrich my vision of what I had always considered the city at the center of the world. What good was a city that was beautiful and clean and safe? I want danger, and adventure, and sex and drugs. My New York could only be as good as it is with the bad simmering right underneath. Twenty-three years later I finally made it to the center of the world. As soon as I set foot onto the trash curbed sidewalks, saw a real NY rat, gazed up at the towering skyscrapers, slyly observed the black-clad umbrella-wielding pedestrians and yellow taxi cabs I felt alive. Everything in me screamed this is where I have always belonged. I wanted to stay. Everyday that went by I could only think about how soon I had to leave and how much more of this alive feeling I could suck out of the day. Yes there were shitty parts. I did get stuck in a subway. It was gloomy and rainy. My feet did feel like a thousand needles were stabbing them when I finally feel into a restless sleep each night. Even still, I couldn’t help but love every single thing about it.

Week Seven.

Photo Seven.

Observations: To state the obvious, I slacked off on my duties last week. I know, I know. But as they say, back on the horse again right?

This weekend my friend came to visit from Athens. This was the first time she had seen my new place and I took it as an opportunity to take her around the city and explore my new neighborhood a little bit myself. The entire weekend was packed with discovering new places to eat and drink all around the city. Everyday we tried somewhere new. The itinerary included Dark Horse Tavern, West Egg Cafe, American Roadhouse, the Corner Tavern in West Midtown and Panita. This is a pic from West Egg where I got the Elvis French toast which features 3 inch slices of French toast sandwiching the ungodly combination of  peanut butter, banana slices, and bacon.

As far as drinks go, we decided to take our first venture to Dark Horse Tavern on Friday night. Those of you who know me, know that I am much more at home in a gay bar than I am at at straight one. There is a very different bar etiquette that I haven’t mastered yet. After an hour and a half of quietly sipping Malibu and diets on what was becoming an exceedingly crowded porch, I had lost any hope that the night was going anywhere. With much resignation I headed to the bar to close my tab and accept my failed attempt at showing my friend a good time. As I was shamelessly staring down the bar tender in hopes of catching his attention, a group of friends beside me struck up some conversation. Now I don’t consider myself a “bar person” in that I don’t usually talk to people that I haven’t come with or know somehow already. For some reason though, I felt particularly fed up with being bored that night. In fact, these friends actually turned out to be really cool people. The night turned out to be a lot of fun despite its rocky (read: boring) start.

I am a pretty firm believer that if you put yourself into situations with even the slightest openness to whatever could come your way that the world will respond in like. I have realized lately how long I have lived shut off, not allowing anything unexpected or different to happen in my life. As a result, I missed out on a lot of experiences that could have been really amazing or hell, could have been really terrible. Either way, I am tired of the predictable and expected. I’m ready for adventure and I’m going to try to open myself up to it in every way I know how.