My untraveled path to insanity and other adventures

It's on, like Donkey Kong, and other January 8th Resolutions

2012-01-08T14:04:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year Travelers! I am happy to be back after my December hiatus, where I spent most of the time eating, sleeping, visiting friends and family, eating, sleeping and thinking about where I want MyUntraveledPath to take me...

And, finally, here it is, (drum roll please) my long over-due working list of resolutions, my upside down map to 2012 and the many adventures I hope to embark, in no particular order:

1. Stop procrastinating (Posting a resolution blog on January 8...this one will need improvement.)

2. Get crackin' on my book (Something tells me one needs more than a chapter and a dedication page. Success of this one will be directly correlated to Resolution #1)

3. Take a Trapeze Class - the obvious "letting go of the past, taking a leap on the future" metaphor aside...it's going to be really, really cool. (Thank you Dan for sponsoring!)

4. Complete a series of bikram yoga classes - I have a voucher for 10 classes on the lower east side gathering dust on my messenger center. All I need now is a yoga mat, a bottle of water and a hard kick in the butt. I would also like to note that I have never taken a Yoga class in my life, and I might be in a little over my head. (Think little league pitcher being brought in as a starter for the Twins..yea something like that. )

5. Run a marathon, half-marathon ... 5k. This one will be challenging as I haven't exercised since 2008 unless you count briskly walking to the subway and chasing off-duty taxis or ice cream trucks (both may have happened.) I did run, stop, walk...run down to Astoria Park and back yesterday (it was 65 degrees on January 7...I had to take advantage, plus it might be a sign the end of the world is coming, so I wanted to enjoy the last few hours outside.)

6. Follow the 2012 presidential election, research the issues and stay up to date on the candidates view points to make the most informed decision possible. Vow not to be one of those Americans who goes to the polls on election day and votes eenie meenie miney mo with their eyes closed. I can happily admit, to date, I have watched 5 minutes of CSPAN and the intro to the New Hampshire debates was riveting until ice cream and new suggestions on Netflix pulled me away. I'm gonna have to work on this one as well.

7. Take a self-defense class - this is an important one for any female, but is definitely needed for anyone living in New York City, men included. Yes, men included. I once went on a date in Union Square and we were approached by Captain James Hook himself. He just wanted money/Peter Pan and wasn't threatening, though the hook was good intimidation should we have hesitated, but it would have been nice to know my date could have defended us should he become aggressive instead of fleeing like Smee...

8. Volunteer regularly and other gestures of philanthropy - Towards the end of 2011, I began volunteering at the St. Francis Soup Kitchen on 18th and 5th. The experience has been one of the most rewarding things I've done in a long time and will continue to do so this year. I'm also reading "Start Something That Matters" by TOMS founder Blake Mycoskie. Hmmm...maybe there is more to MyUntraveledPath that I have yet to discover...

9. Visit the Chelsea Pier Batting Cages and other sporty things - Hit a few balls while singing "Put Me In Coach" by John Foggerty and quoting When Harry Met Sally

10. Write a new blog post weekly (I'm shooting for one, hoping for two...betting on bi-monthly...cough cough, again, reference #1)

11. See a rooftop movie, take a salsa class, take a beginner spanish class, photograph a sunset, sky dive?, keep a plant and or goldfish alive for one year, participate in a flash mob, create a Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor, read my writing at an open mic night, see a stand up comedy act/leave a stand up comedy act....and the list goes on.

12. (or the "in conclusion resolution") - Discover as many off the beaten path, interesting things to do in New York City as I can, while hopefully inspiring others to break away from their daily routine, try something new and find an unbeaten path to explore in their own town and write me about it! (Big, huge, neon sign with the words hint, hint right here.)

While heading to East Grand Forks, Minnesota for the holidays, I perused the midwest merchandise at an Alexandria gas station (I'll wait for you East Coast folk to check the map...just know it's somewhere in the middle). The "boutique" station sold everything from sweatshirts that read "Old Guys Rule" and small ceramic black bears with honey pots on their head to a stand filled with humorous plaques. Most of them read "Gone fishing, be back never" or "A glass of wine a day keeps me normal"but the one that stood out the most went something like this:

I took the road less traveled and I have no idea where I am.

That pretty much sums up this post... I can't wait to discover what path 2012 will take me down and to share all the mishaps along the way with you. Here's to a great year travelers!

Cheers,

Kerry

I'm thankful for my sight and many, many other things...

2011-11-29T11:01:00.000-08:00

Given this past week's festivities, it seems only appropriate I write about what I am grateful for this year, no matter how cliché. Of course, it wouldn’t be a traveler blog if we didn’t stray from the beaten path, so I am going to write about something other than family, friends, and pumpkin spice lattes.

I’m thankful for my sight.

A few weeks ago, I visited the new Dialog in the Dark exhibition at the South Street Seaport. Though the title is a little misleading, the premise of the museum is to explore New York City through the eyes of the blind. Through a 45-minute walking tour, one visits various common locations New Yorkers frequent including the subway, a grocery store, Times Square and Central Park, just to see what it feels like to be on the dark side of the moon.

The idea was intriguing and I was timidly excited when we arrived for the last tour of the day, just before sundown. After being escorted into a dimly lit room, walking sticks in hand, we waited patiently for our guide. As the lights faded into complete darkness, my stomach began to knot and the room filled with nervous laughter. What had we gotten ourselves into? The act of sitting in blackness, without even an exit sign, is intimidating, scary, exhilarating and unsettling all at the same time. Just as our eyes began to adjust, our guide arrives to explain handy tips for using our walking sticks and what to expect when wandering through the dark streets of Manhattan. Oh, did I mention she is blind as well? Yes, I have to admit, I had my doubts as we slowly lined up to enter the first room, groping the air and each other for support, praying we don’t run into a stranger or even worse, a wall.

I won’t give the entire tour away, mostly for brevity and to keep an element of surprise should you wish to venture down to Pier 17 and check it out for yourself.

The grocery store stands out in my mind as the most difficult of the galleries. As we wandered, feeling our way through produce to boxed goods, I felt an overwhelming feeling of frustration and helplessness. Perhaps because it is one of those things you don’t really think about in your day-to-day life, you just do. I had no idea which aisle I was in or what item I was picking up. Our guide informed us, in real life, she too feels her way, and instills the help of the staff at the store to answer questions and direct her to the correct item. Even so, the time it takes requires more patience than my NYC minute personality could possibly handle. I felt humbled in remembering how annoyed I get when waiting in lines for checkout, discovering items out of stock or just too many people in one aisle, petty frustrations illuminated in such a small room.

My favorite portion of the tour would be the subway ride and the most realistic. I truly felt like I was on the 1,2,3, traveling from Columbus Circle to Times Square. It was oddly reassuring, recognizing the sounds, the stops…I even began to think, hey this isn’t so bad, I could definitely get the hang of this…until we exited the train. Once out of the safety of the car, I almost fell down a flight of stairs only to walk head first into the busy oncoming traffic of midtown. According to our guide, I was struck multiple times by passing cars, a biker and possibly a pedi-cab.

What I appreciated most about the adventure was how it allowed me to step outside my comfort zone, to see the world as I know it from a completely different perspective, a rare opportunity for any traveler.

I was also reminded, sometimes in our journey we are so focused on what is behind us or what is in front of us, what we want and what we don’t have…we forget to appreciate something as simple as walking out of a museum into the dark night and being able to well, see.

Social Media: I raise my boom box...

2011-11-22T20:03:00.000-08:00

I have always been a little behind the times when it comes to the latest technological trends. It took me years to move beyond my Classic Nintendo and even then, a game or two on Sega or Playstation had me whimsically longing for some old-fashioned duck hunt or zelda.

For those who didn't get the title
of this post.
John Cusack - Say Anything (c)

For many, change does not come easily. For me, embracing eight different forms of communication, from pagers to cell phones, MySpace to Facebook and everything in between, was more than my walkie talkie heart could handle. I felt we were moving away from human connection into a land where humor, chemistry, facial relatability and touch were lost in the Times New Roman typeface of email and gchat. I rebelled.

However, as this year, and this blog, are all about trying new things, welcoming a different path, I decided to not only jump head first in to the blogosphere and facebook-osphere (I believe I made that word up), but I took it one further and became a tweeter, twitterer, tweeti (or is that plural). You get the point.

Coincidentally, this grand decree of social media love came the same day I went to see Blue Man Group.

For those, like myself, who have been living in a cave the past 10 years and have never seen it, Blue Man Group is a three-man physical comedy, musical, interactive performance that really is truly amazing.

What I found most interesting about it was the way it embraced our hyper-technologically dependent society through its use of sounds, light, even massive iphone replicas adorn the set yet still drew attention to what we are missing. In one scene, dedicated entirely to texting, they satirize the irony of what a disconnected form of communication it has become...who needs to speak anymore, let alone see one another. Don't worry, it's not all serious, far from it. I laughed dare I say squealed at the silliest of moments, something I haven't done in a long time.

Maybe that's the message, that we have to embrace the inevitable change, whatever the direction and find the joy and humor in the craziness of it all. And yet, as I write this blog, that I will eventually post on my Facebook to be shared (possibly reposted) with hundreds to be forwarded to my twitter that will hopefully be re-tweeted, I feel a bit foggy.

I can't help but wonder, in an attempt to reach each other on as many levels as we are, is it possible we are missing the connection entirely? Perhaps I'm just lost in a cloud of my own making, whimsically longing for Donkey Kong and a simpler time.

Autumn-ness: A time to stop and smell the apples

2011-11-14T21:59:00.000-08:00

Welcome back travelers! I've been on hiatus for so long and have so many adventures to catch you up on, I don't know where to start.

So let's start at the very beginning, (a very good place to start), yes I just sang a verse from The Sound of Music. Check it out if you have been living under a rock the last 50 years, it's a classic.

I'm a big believer in birthdays being an equivalent to new years eve, our very own fresh start where resolutions can be sought on our own and not shared with millions of others doomed to failure. A chance to look at your last birth year, assess the good and bad and make goals for the next.

I recently turned, cough cough, 29. My last year as a 20-something and what a journey the first month has been. My first big trip was upstate on an Apple picking excursion with three of my new friends.

After numerous conversations of transportation, budget and destination we finally decided on Warwick Valley Winery and Apple Orchard, a budget of 50 bucks and a zip car. A VERY cheap outing for any New Yorker.

The day started out with the best of intentions of leaving by 11am and arriving at our destination, according to Google map by 1:30. I must reiterate that we were four women venturing upstate in a rented car, outfits needed to be assessed, sustinance needed to be acquired and of course, being city girls we didn't really account for "gorgeous weather, one of the few remaining weekends where everyone wants to go upstate" traffic.

True to any great road trip form, we had tunes bumping, karaoke from everyone happening and some in the car dance moves Michael Jackson would envy.

Then, after an hour in to our journey we hit traffic. Not just traffic, we hit a single file parking lot. What do four girls from the city do when they have no where to go? take pictures....lots of pictures...and try and find any good song on the radio. I even had time to hop out of the car, in true chinese fire drill fashion and take some amazing photos of the landscape.

After four hours in traffic, not exaggerating, we piled out of our zip car, dressed in our country chic, which is basically a city girl interpretation of what those from the county wear. Cute sun dresses, cowboy boots and big sunglasses, right?

We arrive with exactly one hour left until the orchard closes. Though we are starving, we forgo food for some wine and Apple picking. What an experience! We danced and sang in the winery, climbed trees for that perfect piece of fruit, and took many more photos. We conquered pear bins, digging with our bare hands for the ripest selection, laughing at the ridiculousness of four girls toppling into fruit crates. I felt like a kid again.

Said tree climbing and laughing

There is something about the country that one truly appreciates after a long summer in the city...the fresh air, the green beauty as far as the eye can see...just the feeling of space in general, and you are free.

Me...being free

We finished the day with a trip to the local pizza shop, where we couldn't help but laugh at the amazing day, with all its detours.

I look back now and can't help but think, sometimes we find ourselves stuck in a moment or transition, that we didn't expect and feel we'll never get past. In the end, when we finally reach our destination, we discover getting through it was just a part of the journey and makes the apple wine at the end all the more sweet.

For Rent

2011-07-24T13:39:00.000-07:00

Welcome back travelers, it's been a while! So many changes this past month, too many to fit into one simple blog posting. The biggest news, yet another curve in my crazy untraveled path, is my recent decision to move out of my tiny studio in industrial Long Island City to a larger, homier (not sure if that is a word) place with well, something a little more than a dunkin donuts factory for a neighborhood.

Moving homes in any location is a trying, exhausting experience, but I think any New Yorker would agree City moving stands in a class above the rest. With craigslist at my finger tips, I have sent dozens of emails to prospective roomies and renters, and along the way found a few postings that well...were entertaining to say the least.

The most notable would be the below posting, seemingly a rare find, in the first few sentences I thought, this can't be true, amazing, but read on dear travelers, read on.

Furnished bedroom available in spacious 2 1/2 bedroom apartment. Doorman, high floor, city and sunset views, sunny, etc. Washer, dryer and dishwasher in the apartment. The apartment has good heat, is quiet for sleeping, has good air-conditioning, high speed internet and a spare computer for the roommate's use. It's an elevator building and there is a health club in the building. The room is about 200 sq. ft., has a double bed, dresser, desk, walk in closet and a window with a nice view. I'm looking for a female roommate who will occasionally not wear clothes when I ask in exchange for free rent. No sex whatsoever required. Otherwise the rent is $780/month, everything included.

I'm beginning to enjoy the apartment hunt experience despite the eccentrics lurking between the listings and the heat wave that has taken over Manahattan like Godzilla.

I have met some fun people, at least the last few apartments I viewed, rounded out my understanding of locations in NYC (Brooklyn and Queens included) and created a mental list of my wants/dislikes in each apartment. Though I'm more than ready to move on from my current situation, I can't help but look back fondly on what I've learned living alone in my tiny studio. I realized it has allowed me more growth than one can imagine (given that it is about 400 square feet.)

My shopping list of lessons learned whilst living on my own in an industrial area:

1. Learn how to use a fire extinguisher...you never know when a fork may fall into the burner and start a small kitchen fire that leaves you frantically pounding on your neighbors door at 11pm at night and you find yourself sleeping in a dust filled apartment for the next two weeks. That may have happened.
2. Ear plugs and eye masks are almost more of a necessity than a bed for a comfortable night sleep. I will miss those garbage trucks at 1am
3. Cheap rent does not justify irresponsible landlords...ever.
4. Solo Karaoke. There is a sense of freedom one feels when you can come home from a long day at work, have a glass of wine and sing karaoke to all your favorite cheesy songs without anyone knowing or judging.
5. Less is more. After a year of downsizing, I have shaken off my pack rat ways and found that sometimes living with less is better than all that baggage. (hmm...feels like a good lesson for life as well)
6. A plunger is always needed. Always.
7. Neighbors can be like roommates, but you still get to go back to your own space. I became close with a lovely couple next door, and in the last couple months they have seen me through many a dramatic event from a kitchen fire, an overflowing toilet to texting an ex...all with a ready scotch and club soda in hand.

I'm sure there are more lessons, too many to list here, some I haven't even discovered yet...but that is what is so exciting about turning down a new path, embarking on a fresh start..you just never know what you will learn...and that is reason enough to keep on traveling.

Anything Goes

2011-06-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

Okay travelers, it's time to shake things up. The last thing any traveler wants is to stay on the same beaten, worn out path or worse, look too much into the past they miss a sign or turn or God forbid prince charming. This blog is dedicated to discovering exciting new places, experiences and gaining knowledge along the way. My first inclination that my blog was becoming a tad too reflective, shmoopy if you will, was when a designer in my office said "It's great, but it's not really my jam." This blog is about adventures everyone can experience, so far be it from me to alienate, let alone not be jam of choice. (I prefer Smuckers Red Raspberry Preserves but I digress.)

This week has brought me to the seashore in more ways than one, splashing my face with the memory of why I love this city...

This past Saturday, I found myself after an hour and half train ride, in Coney Island for the annual mermaid parade. A celebration of the dawning of Summer, this parade attracts the weird, the exotic and the spectacular...theatricality at its best, far from the great white way, I found myself surrounded by swarms of people, some clad in elaborate costumes of the sea-person persuasion...some wearing hardly anything at all. I saw more pasties and glitter than a Janet Jackson half time show and that was just the men.

As my friends and I made our way through the sea of people on the boardwalk, fruity over sugared cocktails in hand, we snapped to great amusement pictures of urchins, one clad completely in seaweed or was it weed? and women painted in full bodied silver that made me wonder what sea creature they were and more importantly how were they going to get the paint off?? Oh did I mention this pina colada flavored cocktail came in the shape of a 2 foot tall, six pack etched, thong sporting man? Oh yes...but as they say when in Rome, or in this case Titan's palace...

As the day turned into night, we left the chaos of the waves of people to venture to an island I did not doubt for a moment I would enjoy...beer island, much like Manhattan but with sand and bikini clad waitress'...my friends and I drank beer I hadn't consumed since college (aka Coors Light) and sang along to every song they played from Billy Joel to Bon Jovi with a latino salsa (completely in spanish) in between. If you haven't experienced the mermaid parade, it is definitely worth the trip at least once if only for the shock value and amazing photos and if you haven't experienced beer island, well that is definitely something to add to the sand bucket list and make sure you put a few check marks next to it.

My most recent seaside experience was on a much different island filled with neon lights. Tonight I saw Anything Goes, the recent Roundabout revival and one of the best musical I have seen in a long time. There's no doubting the book and score that has found it's way to Broadway more than a time or two and won more awards than I can count. An old-school classic that reminded me why I fell in love with theatre to begin with and how the magic of a great show can make you smile ear to ear, tap your feet as they sing and dance (as if you can compare) and want to leap out of your seat even before the curtain falls.

Sutton Foster was charming and incredible, and if you've never seen her perform...well add that to the sand bucket too. At the end of the show, I found myself crying from pure enjoyment, laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.. and definitely crushing on the lead Colin Donnell...who I'm STILL hoping is straight, single and likes quirky brunettes...but more importantly, I left that show feeling like I could do anything...inspired to write, to laugh and to hope...As I write this, humming that infamous tune, I can't wait for the next adventure...and though I'm not a romancer, I know that I'm bound to answer if you propose...Anything Goes! (And that's an anthem any traveler can get behind.)

Two Weddings and a rising tide...

2011-05-24T20:51:00.000-07:00

An old acquaintance once told me that we are always in transition, always changing and to ride the high waves of life as much as the lows because it is rare when you can just sail. For some reason those words stuck with me. I was going through a break up, so at the time they felt only applicable to love, and though a couple years later I am in that same transition, letting go of a great love and a constant friend, to venture down a new path on my own, I began to see that those words weren't as melancholy as my broken heart would have them be. They are as applicable to love as understanding every other aspect of life.

I spent the last month in a wedding whirlwind. Two very important people in my life were married within weeks of each other, both experiencing one of life's greatest highs. I've always been amazed by those who make the commitment of marriage, to stand before God, friends and family and dedicate themselves to each other, for better or for worse, good times and bad, well you get the point. A life changing decision that to be honest has always made me a tad nervous. Forever, really? But then I found myself at two completely different weddings, with two completely different couples, watching them say the same words of promise...and though I wasn't inspired to sprint down the aisle anytime soon, it did get me thinking about the amazing act of finding and dedicating your life to someone, someone who will ride the waves with you, whatever it may be, with as much love and excitement as those couples showed.

Wedding one took place in South Beach Miami, a destination I had never been and after a few days in the sun will readily visit again. My knowledge of the Spring Break hot spot was limited to Will Smith videos and the occasional segment on E! so imagine my amazement when after an airplane ride and what seemed like an even longer taxi ride, I found myself in the heat and vibrance of the multi-cultural city. A travel must for the rich and famous, and the cast of Jersey Shore, even at 1:30am the city seemed to sizzle in a way foggy New York City didn't.

I could not have asked for better weather in my short sojourn, 80+ with a cool breeze from the ocean, I often wondered what I was doing living the rat race of the City day in and day out. But then, as I zoomed past both tourist and native alike, I realized I might move a bit too fast for this laise faire city.

The wedding took place on the beach just steps away from the luxurious National Hotel. While the sun set over the ocean and eager tourists and locals alike looked on, they said their vows under a beautiful white canopy. A marriage 11 years in the making to the day, they looked as in love as the day they met.

I'd say more, but I think the New York Times writer does it proper justice: Pekoe/Lueck Wedding.

Wedding two was a few weeks later, in my home state of Minnesota. A classic affair with all the comforts of my midwest upbringing from the grooms dinner at a local stomping ground (Obbs) to the wedding service in the Catholic church three generations of Harris' in the making.

I was the maid of honor in this wedding, so my experience is a bit more first hand, and in the tornado (literally with two setting down just miles from the ceremony) of the weekend, I was reacquainted with family and childhood friends I hadn't seen in years.

The ceremony was traditional Catholic where as the sister and witness, I too had to stand/sit next to the alter through the entirety of the ceremony! Channeling Pippa from the royal wedding as best I could, I chased a veil around the altar in three inch heels, became teary eyed when they blessed my sister and her new husband and mouthed don't make me laugh to my cousins making faces from the pews. In true Catholic style, we danced and drank until late in the evening, even with the storms brewing outside, all rejoicing and celebrating the new couple.

As I sit in my studio back in NYC, the dust barely settled, I smile. In our great journey, we are always evolving, always growing, learning, changing, riding the waves whether it be a move, a new job, new title, new office, new love, a marriage, a child, an illness, a death or a break up...and sometimes we are lucky enough to find someone to ride with us. That thought can give hope to any traveler.

Free Falling

2011-04-18T22:45:00.000-07:00

Many times in our travels of life we find ourselves in a transition. A time when suddenly you are thrust by choice or by chance onto a new path that you never knew existed, but were meant to walk down. It's a moment in your life when the comfortable, the known, the familiar become a fog hidden by a world so new, moving to a new city, a wedding, a birth, a break up, a death, that one finds it difficult to see the crossroads, the signs that point them in the direction they were meant to travel. A bit obvious, but the unknown is a scary place.

I, like so many travelers, find myself at that very place, on the cusp of something so new and exciting it's almost frightening. For the first time, I have weekends to experience the City without the burden of a second job, time for self discovery and adventure without the ridged six, sometimes seven day a week schedule. I am, on the brink of an adventure to Miami (foreshadowing of a blog to come) after a night with a dear friend, comforted by the idea that, though sometimes the road we choose is untraveled, it is not without direction.

Sometimes it is the unexpected experiences, the brief encounters, that bring us where we are meant to be. Tonight, after a long day at the office, I was invited out to dinner at a wonderful French bistro called Les Halles on Park and 28th Street. If you have trouble pronouncing it, or can't at all in my case, pretend you are coughing and forget about the s in either word and the H.

A surprisingly enjoyable evening to say the least, I found myself laughing harder than I have in months. I experienced escargo for the first time, enjoying every bite of the garlic-y (is that a word) flavor combined with the unwelcoming texture of oysters. Famed Chef Anthony Bourdain lived up to his name with a savory steak frites that I will dream about for days, with service and an atmosphere that had me planning my next visit even before I was out the door.

Though this was a typical night for any New Yorker, I find myself at the end of it, sentimental. Not by the wine, steak, or charming French waiter, but the moment at the end of the evening, when my friend, my former boss at said second job, said something so casual yet poignant I couldn't help but write about it.

After six years of working two jobs, sometimes seven days a week, I had finally said my goodbye to Olunney's, a place I had known since my first day in New York. I had chosen a new path, and that was terrifying, like leaping, free falling into the blue sky. Though it is the circle of life, not to quote the Lion King, it is still amazing to me how change can be so debilitating, so paralyzing, until the moment you realize you never really left the ground, just changed course.

In our long goodbye, she assured me that I would always have a home, a family with them, my very own Cheers. In that moment, I realized, as scary as the unknown future may be, we find our knowledge and strength in the past experiences and friendships, propelling us forward, the rocks we can jump from, free falling into the untraveled.

These Boots Were Made For Walking and Sometimes Not.

2011-04-03T14:31:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about Spring is those rare days when the thermometer goes above 50 and windows everywhere open to let in the fresh air and clear away the dust of a long winter. A day that makes you want to run (well for me briskly walk) through the streets and relish in the warmth and sunshine. It's a cherished pleasure during this season because deep down you know, that tomorrow, will most likely bring rain, snow, seven layers of clothing and a heated blanket.

I took advantage of a day off and a gift from the weather gods to venture to Bryant Park with a good book and a smile. It's nothing new for me but just like any great series has its filler episodes, this blog is sharing with you an under rated past time in NYC, park sitting and people watching. It's important for the soul, to every now and again take a rest, reflect on the past and plan for the future.

For those of you hoping to visit NYC, a must stop is Bryant Park. My favorite by far and not just because of its proximity to my job. The under appreciated "younger sibling" to the big Central Park, this one has character and a sense of tranquility in the great concrete jungle that is midtown. Sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by pigeons, lovers, homeless people and other travelers, one can't help but feel they have found a secret hideaway. An oasis in an area known for the bright lights, hustle and bustle of traffic and sounds from the great white way.

In the Summer the park offers a menu of activities not to be missed. Mondays one can catch a movie on the jumbo screen, if you can find a spot and Thursdays you can hear a song or two from a hit Broadway show. In the old days (ie a year ago) the park was filled with fashinistas from all over the world until they moved fashion week to Lincoln Center. Today though, the park too is having a rest, with lazy patrons filling the tables around me.

I take in my surroundings, my coffee and Kurt Vannegut book in hand, at peace in the beautiful day in the park, and I am reminded of a quote from Guillaume Apollinaire, that every traveler should remember. "Now and then it's good to pause in our great pursuit of happiness and just be happy."

Back To The Future...A mixture of something old and something new, makes for a fantastic story.

2011-03-27T16:18:00.000-07:00

Okay travelers, this post is going to be a long one, as it contains three days worth of adventure, so you should grab your glass of wine and take a bathroom break now.

My weekend began with a visit from my dear friend Nancy, who left the city a couple years ago for grad school and an admirable career in teaching. A weekend with a best friend you haven't seen in a while, is like a very expensive glass of wine, something to be truly enjoyed and appreciated, and always leaves you feeling sad when it is done. It's also a reminder, that true friendship, withstands time and distance, with an ease and comfort, a constant, that the interval between visits seems a blink of an eye.

Friday night found us in the West Village at a fantastic Spanish restaurant called Sevilla her parents had been frequenting since the 70s. (Side note, her parents were also in town, and every time I see them, I find myself amazed at the love and adoration after 35+ years of marriage. Her father stills carries a picture from their early days, when they shared a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, the edges a little worn and the image faded, but if you look closely, reflected in those smiles is the same devotion that sat across from us that evening.)

After one pitcher of sangria, the stories began, and over family style cuisine we laughed about how he finally convinced her to marry him after how many times of asking, that number is up for debate, and by the second pitcher, even my marriage skeptic heart was warmed. During that time I also fell in love with the restaurant, a small, family owned gem since 1941, the atmosphere warm and welcoming like coming home, and the food rich with flavor. We shared an appetizer of chorizo, bursting with spanish spices and when the waiter came to take the plate, there was a fight for the last. For main course, we shared a very large portion of Mariscada Ajillo with hot garlic sauce and a classic Arroz con Pollo. The staff were friendly and attentive, many of whom have worked there since the 70s or earlier and are as part of the experience as the sangria. My only suggestion would be to get there early because by 8pm, the bar and tables were packed, with a line out the door.

Friday evening poured itself into Saturday, where we found ourselves at an old favorite of mine, the Met. (A must see on any visit to NYC, and with a "suggested donation" policy a must go often for any New Yorker.) After asking every employee and some serious "going inside the map" we finally found Nancy's boyfriend, Lou, his sister Katy and her boyfriend Tyler in Mesopotamia. After polite introduction and handshakes (important later) we wandered our way to the armory wing and ended our journey in Egypt. I love visiting the Met for as much the exhibits as the people watching. From the avid explorer, with their notebook and slow pace, reading every description with a fierce appetite for knowledge, to the families and foreigners, skimming their way from wing to wing, impressed more by the grandeur of the place than the artifacts themselves. It's a place you can get lost in, literally and metaphorically, where one can find themselves staring down a mummy in ancient Egypt, gliding through silk drawings of Asia or dancing by guitars from the days of Beatle-mania. After traveling for a couple hours through history, we needed some nourishment and libation. We stumbled upon a great little mexican restaurant called MXCo, though the decor/atmosphere were much to be desired, the food was tasty and the margaritas hit the spot. I love the end of time spent with new acquaintances, when the awkward handshakes and polite conversation are replaced by a bonding of time spent in merriment, when your guard comes down with shared experiences and you find yourself hugging goodbye. With our bellies full and our cheeks warmed by the margaritas, we parted ways with our new (well for me) found friends to venture on a cross-town bus to Harlem, where the famous Lenox Lounge and a night of jazz awaited us.

(I mentioned this would be a long one, so if you need to refill that glass of wine, now would be a good time.)

I don't know how to describe the next couple hours that can truly do it justice. Every moment was so new, exciting and a little scary, like a fish out of water, that as I listen to the greats Nina Simone and Sam Cook, I smile with the memory of my fear, almost laughable in retrospect. The cross-town bus took mere minutes and suddenly we were facing the famous Lenox Lounge, as staple to Harlem as The Apollo Theatre and great BBQ.

Founded in 1939, Lenox Lounge with its legendary zebra room, has been a stomping ground for some of jazz and blues greats, from Billie Holiday to Miles Davis, and for you Mad Men fanatics, apparently it is the location they filmed the brilliant opening scene in the very first episode. Walking through the doors was like stepping back in time, though from the outside you wouldn't know it. Surrounded by run down shops and bargain basement deals, the lounge blends in, almost hiding the treasure inside. With just a few tables and an even smaller bar, it's amazing that once it hits the peak of the night, anyone can get a drink, not that it would matter. That's not why one ventures to 125 and Lenox. You come for the music, and it is well worth the journey. We arrived just before the 8:30pm set and stood outside the doors to the Zebra room, already packed with patrons, nervous that we had arrived too late to secure a seat. Luckily we were the last two accepted, and Nance and I found ourselves at the front table, mere inches, seriously, away from where film, television (A Different World anyone?) and Broadway star Lou Myers would perform with his trio. The room was small, it held maybe 50 people and true to its name the walls were a vibrant zebra print. For the next hour, we were entertained with a combination of classics like "Birth of the Blues", and "I put a spell on you" to some I had never heard like "Power." How can I describe the energy in the room? People standing and dancing, stomping their feet and singing along. I gazed at the tables crammed with elderly women enjoying a glass of wine and steak, to young couples celebrating an anniversary, everyone moving their head with the rhythm of the music. Laughter filled the air, as Lou sang about his "mojo not working on you" and wild applause as the young guitarist, just 16-years old, riffed through intervals like a pro. The set ended too soon, and we giggled and smiled our way, arm in arm out of the bar, the sound of the music still ringing in our ears.

Our journey ends this morning with a brunch in old-paris (french accent inserted here), okay, well it was actually a French Bistro on 55th and 6th Avenue, with our friend Heather. We sat, the three of us, facing a window that overlooked apartment buildings and an exhaust vent, but for the mood we were all in, excited to be in each other's company, it might as well have been Paris. For two hours, over mimosas and eggs benedict, we laughed about old stories, boys and experiences, a perfect end to a weekend of travel.

As I write this, the sun setting, Nina in the background,my mind filled with this past weekend's whirlwind of experiences, old and new, I feel exhausted and content....well, for now.

My Dear John Letter to St. Patrick's Day

2011-03-17T20:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have to admit, I started this blog with the intent of writing the "Anti-St.Patrick's Day blog", the "Dear John Letter," the "maybe we can just be friends" St. Patrick's day entry. My final farewell to a holiday that had caused me more frustration and disdain than joy.

Yet, I find myself, at the end of the night, after a day of viewing green shenanigans from a distance (I work on a block with four, yes, four Irish pubs), and experiencing for a brief moment the true spirit of the day, and of course, sipping my Guinness, sentimental. Like an old lover I didn't appreciate until truly gone.

Growing up I never had a connection with St. Patrick's day, even though I am Catholic. I vaguely remember a desire to wear green and clad myself with shamrocks but it was never something I understood or appreciated. I recall a celebration or two in college but they are a memory blurred by so many fun nights out that they don't hold importance.

When I moved to New York I discovered a whole new side of the holiday. A day where New York turns green, people take off work to attend a parade and streets are filled with drunken debauchery (more so than usual.) In the last six years, I've seen a celebration of culture like non I had experienced in small town Minnesota. Then I found myself working in an Irish pub in Times Square, a place that has given new meaning to both New Years and St Pattys day and I found myself despising March 17th, like one would a funeral or math exam. Working long hours in a crowded pub, surrounded by drunks who at any given moment would propose marriage, express undying affection for my rare beauty or vomit, sometimes at the same time, can make anyone leery. So, imagine my amazement, when after a long day of advertising and marketing, I was oddly curious to see what the fuss was all about, from the other side of the wooden plank and after six years, not at Olunney's Times Square Pub. (I'm going to do a shameless promotion for a restaurant that has seen me through freelance jobs, career changes, breakups and where the owners have become like family. A place where I went from waitress to manager and lifetime friendships were formed. It impacted my formative 20s in ways I appreciate now and will for years to come. A restaurant I started working at my 2nd day in New York and has become as staple to the city in my mind as any tourist attraction. ps you should check it out if you have not done so already. It's a taste of Irish humor, warmth, and true hospitality in a part of Manhattan saturated with corporate America.)

I ventured around 9pm to a pub my friends were gathering at for a quick pint and some investigative, real life research. My wikipedia search enlightened me to the true meaning of St. Patrick's day, a day dedicated to the celebration of Patrick, the Patron Saint who brought Christianity to Ireland, when all this time I thought it was an excuse for people to drink. The celebration of a culture and belief I found inspiring, and given the current state of tsunamis and threat of radiation a night to drink and be merry seemed almost admirable if not necessary. Even the color green, though not my favorite, seemed an okay fashion statement. (note: I wore purple, not out of protest, but sheer convenience, it's laundry day people.)

When I walked through the doors of Dewey's pub, I was amazed to find myself smiling and not the least bit annoyed at the crowds. It was the same atmosphere and energy that had carried me from 45th to 26th street, a place filled with, of course, patrons decked in green, laughing and drinking to some Irish tune on the jukebox. I'm sure half of them had no idea the history behind the day, nor did it matter. The fact that one day could bring so many different people together, to enjoy a time dedicated to celebration, life and hope, well I have to admit, even my Patty's day grinch heart grew 10 sizes.

So even as I write this, quietly in my apartment, away from the crowded streets of green filled manhattan, sipping a Guinness, I smile. Maybe I'm pleasantly surprised by my appreciation for a holiday I had shared a love/hate relationship for so many years, or maybe it's the Guinness, either way, this holiday represents a celebration of change and something new, and for any traveler, that's definitely a reason to raise a glass. Slainte.

Believe it or not

2011-03-10T20:06:00.000-08:00

There's something about Spring that makes me restless...that makes me want to run through the streets, singing a song from an old time musical someone needs to produce again and see, taste, smell (well, it's NYC so maybe not) everything around me.

I ventured into the blogger world a couple years ago with the same ambition I have tonight, to see and experience as much of New York City as I can in a time in my life when opportunity and ability are just outside my door.

For the three people that read my last postings, (thanks mom) I had begun a quest to experience all the things of NYC and hopefully beyond, I had never tried before, from street meat (tasted, enjoyed and experienced food poisoning for the first time) to flying trapeze (yet to conquer) and inspired by a long winter,I find myself jumping back into the blogosphere with reckless abandon, this time
with the hopes of posting more than once every two months.

This past week I ventured to many an entertainment hot spot on the great white way (two Broadway shows included), but the one that stuck out as the most original, fun experience I've had in a long time was Ripley's Believe It Or Not. Believe it or not (ba-bum-ching) I had never been.

An adventure filled with bearded ladies, siamese twins and crazy shrunken heads, I found myself laughing and enjoying myself in ways I had only remembered as a kid. You know, the uninhibited laughter and silliness, the innocent, raw, true appreciation for the unknown and unbelievable.

I found myself passing ancient torture chambers and pictures of headless chickens living and performing for years, yes without a head, with both awe and amazement. I could almost hear the carnival sounds of the 20s, single toothed Carnis crying out for my attention and feel the dirt of the dust bowl at my feet.

I even took a turn at the laser room (for those who need a reference, think Entrapment with Catherine Zeta Jones and Sean Connery). A room filled with lasers protecting the elusive artifact (a button) at the end, that one must maneuver, twist, turn and find their way to and back again in a time frame set by many before them that day. I placed fifth (of the day), leading me to think perhaps theatrical marketing was the wrong career and maybe there is a fortune to be made in cat-burglary...on second thought, I'll stick with marketing since the other requires me to wear dark makeup.

I found myself sad to leave at the end, like a roller coaster ride, and I heard myself express I will definitely be back again. For any New Yorker, to visit a location twice whether restaurant or attraction, that was statement was pretty momentous.

Maybe it is significant that the first entry on "Untraveled path to insanity and other adventures" begins with a trip to a museum about the oddities, the unusual, the unbelievable...a great starting point for the untraveled.