There is No Place Like New York

Truly, there is no place on earth like New York City. I have completely fallen in love. Initially I thought, "I could live here for a year or two." Today, I felt like I could be here indefinitely. It has officially become home.

A place becomes home when a familiar sight or sound ... or especially in New York, a particular smell... brings about a feeling of warmth in your gut. A feeling that your senses recognize as 'home' before your mind can logically process that thought. I realized this today when I heard the high-pitched and off-tune squeals of the chords on an old guitar, played by a scruffy, middle-aged man with Albert Einstein hair tamed under a baseball cap. He plays every day at the subway stop near my apartment that I frequent. As I was walking briskly down the stairs, the familiar tune drifted to my ears and its tarnished melody wrapped me in a blanket of comfort.

It's the little things about this city that I love. Each day I step outside my door with wonder. Its energy, its excitement, its culture. What will the day hold? I had a conversation at Trader Joes tonight with the young man who bagged my groceries, and I discovered that he's a Nude Break Dancer Figure Model. Meaning, he break dances nude and art students take pictures of him. Nothing surprises me here, and I love that. Everyone has a story.

Walking home with Washington Square park on my left, a place filled with musicians and dreamers, I passed a restaurant tucked below ground level on my right. Nestled inside were people in love, people who had fallen out of love; people facing situations with courage, people feeling hopeless. Mothers, fathers, daughters, friends, all sharing their stories inside by candlelight, away from the chill of the autumn night air.

Some final highlights of the day:

I've always wanted to stop at this little cupcake shop on 14th St. called "Baked by Melissa." They have bite-sized bits of deliciousness, and today was the day to partake. Smores, cookie dough, caramel espresso chocolate... yes please. On the flip side of a sugar high, I came across "Brussel Sprout Stalks" at Trader Joes. Huh. Didn't know they grew on stalks. Certainly didn't think I would learn about sprout stalks in New York. But then again, nothing surprises me. It was a fantastic day in the city of wonder.