1977 was my first encounter with the Big Apple. The Big, wonderful world of creativity, energy, diversity, possibilities…all there, packed into a small 23-square mile island called Manhattan. It’s the most visually and sensually stimulating place I’ve ever been. I knew I’d come back. I have, in fact, been back
{ a page from my diary, dated October 26, 2002 } I turned 50 today. Guess that means I’ve officially lived over half my life. My vacation is half over. Michele* surprised me and flew in from Maine. We went shopping all day at the outlet mall. It was a
Living in NYC has always been on my before-I-die list. I’m not sure you’ll call a month ‘living’ in NYC, but hey, I’ll take it! The first time I landed in that magical city, I felt an energy I had never experienced before. Years passed. The job led me to
Ever heard of The Vendy Awards? It’s the Oscar Awards for street food vendors, or as they like to be called, “New York City Sidewalk Chefs.” Pretty smooth spin on ‘hot dogs.’ Yep, once a year an annual competition is held to find the Best Street Food Vendor in the
A dear friend assembled a group of us for dinner the other night. Most of the gals in this group are going through the same stages I am – the empty nest, post menopausal, midlife crisis, omg-now-what? syndrome. Most are traveling through it with much more grace than I am,
I am so excited I can hardly breathe. It’s Friday night, April the 8th and I just got back from doing my first trial walk. As many of you know, I plan to go back to school this summer at Parsons in NY and walk every square mile of Manhattan
A chain letter came across my email a few years back, asking us to name the 25 things that most identified us. Here are mine: 1. Although I dearly love Atlanta, I’d love to live in NYC at least for a year. 2. My favorite art form is graffiti. When
I have to laugh. When I tell friends about my trip this is, by far, the comment I hear most often: “A whole month B Y Y O U R S E L F in that apartment!” Imagine: One whole month. Thirty days. Thirty nights. No husband. No children. No
When a group of us gals got together for one of Tavey’s Enneagram classes, “Set Your Intentions” we were instructed to grab a magazine, scan its pages, and pull out things that interested us. We were given a small piece of poster board on which to assemble our finds. Here’s
As I mentioned in one of my previous writings, I took my son to New York just three months after 9/11. I remember asking friends if I should expose a ten-year-old to such a fresh visual reminder of horror. You see, my son is an avid historian. In my heart
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