in the eye of the apple
Unlike absolutely every other place I've lived, returning to Portland is always exciting. As sad as I am to leave behind in New York food uneaten, alleyways untrodden, and creative street art unseen with my eager eyes, I rejoice to feel the reach of trees' beneedled arms welcoming me home.
Still, New York's smoky concrete siren-call remains in faint echoes at the edge of my hearing. There's something about the history and the sheer grandiosity of its parks meant to mimic and better Nature, its time-painted concrete, its contrast at every layer.
By golly, I'm prone to lists.
The story of our recent trip to New York is as follows. Got in to Newark around a quarter to 6am on Saturday morning. Took a cab to my cousin's house in Tribeca. It was foggy, close, and strangely warm out, and we chatted with the Nigerian driver while he swerved with high beams on and a horn substituting for turn signals. We arrived in about twenty minutes, a record I'm sure. And then we sat by the front door, waiting for the hour to turn decent enough to ring the doorbell. When we finally did, we hung out in the kitchen for a while catching up with my cousin and her husband before retiring to the basement guestroom for a nap.
After an hour of repose, Kelley, Hudson, Erik and I joined Jonathan and Zara for lunch at a cute little Italian restaurant. We left the place in a bit of a shambles from Hudson's food-tossing antics, and Erik & I walked up Canal, through Chinatown for a new pair of cheap sunglasses for me and an I
We decided to see a movie at our old favorite theater, the Sunshine, and Into the Wild was just about to start, so we went for it. It was long and cold. Afterwards we tried to go to the Kampuchea Noodle Bar, but the wait was too long, so we took a cab to where we thought 'Snice was, near our old West Village apartment. We walked around for a while before calling Julie for the address, and then when we got there it was closed. We ate at Ma Ma Buddha, which we had seen on the long walk, then walked back to Tribeca. We got in around 12:30am.
Sunday we got up late (10 or 10:30am-- still early PST!), ate bagels in the kitchen, and went to the park with the Gazdak family. We headed back to the house around 3pm to get ready for the wedding, stopping by Burritoville for a late lunch. Erik and I showed up at Battery Park Gardens at 5pm, which was actually an hour early, so we stood around trying to be useful and buying sangria from the outdoor bar. It was absolutely beautiful down there, at the very tip of Manhattan.
I don't think I can describe the wedding itself. Christina was radiating classic beauty with her calm demeanor, even having to keep her right hand elevated in a hot pink cast after lacerating two tendons, opening a wedding gift of a kitchen knife a week prior. Of course I chatted up Aton's date, the Natalie Portman look-alike. She said that she had gotten the acceptance email for law school in an internet cafe in Saharan Egypt, typing on a keyboard covered in sand. I also finally worked up the courage to tell Aaron Cometbus that I'm a fan, right when he was about to leave with the centerpiece.
Once the restaurant closed down, we went back to Amy and Miriam's hotel room and hung out til 3:30am. From there it was a beautiful walk back to my cousin's house in the sweet night air. I forgot how warm those humid summer nights remain, although it shouldn't have been quite so summery.
Monday morning was tough. Erik and I took our time getting up, then walked up to 'Snice for lunch. From there we went to NikeTown to check out the new running floor and test-run shoes in Central Park. It was a race after that to get to the airport, but we made it with five minutes to spare, which is just perfect for me.
And that was the trip. Short, sweet, and packed with memories of things I'll never see anywhere else.
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