Oh, New York Part 2

Yes...oh New York. I left off at the risotto, but I believe I failed to mention yesterday's activities. After an amazing brunch in Brooklyn with Olav and Betsy, Betsy and I went to midtown to meet up with an old friend, Josh. He took the bus in from Jersey. We then headed to Ground Zero. I thought there'd be more to see, but there truly isn't much to view yet - it's a huge chunk of space left empty in the chaotic city. Although pretty empty, it did leave a lasting impression on me, just being in that area and remembering that day. It was a somber morning. We peeked into the construction area as much as we could (it was blocked off pretty well) and then strolled into St. Paul's Chapel which is located right across the street. St. Paul's acted as a sanctuary for the rescuers, families of victims and volunteers of 9/11. Inside St. Paul's you can see the posters and flyers and notes that people scattered around the city in the days following 9/11. Viewing these artifacts, you couldn't help but tear up and feel the sadness. (On a sidenote, it was pretty embarrassing when I strolled in to the church as quiet as a ghost, since that is how you are supposed to be, I thought. But then I promptly knocked over a "Caution" sign that was placed on the wet floor, creating a loud SMACK!!! noise; all eyes on Jojo, forever the klutz).

We then strolled through the financial district and eventually wound up in the East Village. We grabbed a drink at the Telephone Bar, this crazy bar filled with telephone booths (could you guess?) and British paintings. Betsy ran to catch a conference call and Josh and I made our way up to Central Park, where we strolled among the sunset-colored leaves and shade of the towering trees. To me, Central Park is Peace. I could have stayed there all day. Eventually we found ourselves at a diner in the Upper Eastside, where I drank the Tiniest Milk Shake There Ever Was and Josh inhaled an egg salad sandwich. Let's just say...not impressed. And then Josh was off for Jersey once again and I on a train bound for Brooklyn to meet up with the girls.

Today I got to play Local. Another fabulous brunch with Olav in Brooklyn (skillet french toast!) and then wandering the streets of the lower east side solo. I discovered some charming shops. I met a woman who collects old books, a man who wanted me to pick a purse that "complimented me" and "brought me up." He held my jacket while I tried on purse after purse and I felt guilty in the end for not buying on. I stumbled upon a nail salon and joined the herds of NYU ladies for a Sunday afternoon manicure. After, I met Raymond, the owner of a wine bar in the East Village. I drank a flight of high end reds at a candle lit table; he took my picture so I could remember. The wine bar itself was original, very New York, but the name was clever only in its simplicity: Wine Bar.

I enjoy New York, but I know I'm not done in LA. New York has a sense of grittiness to it, this feeling of never being done and never being clean. When it rained this weekend, I felt like I needed to shower 20 times a day. Everyone is in such a rush. No one gives a shit where you are coming from and who you are, what you are wearing. Olav gave me a great example: In LA, if someone spoke to you, one might think "Screw you." In New York, you say hi to man on the street, and he actually says, "Screw you." I do like that everyone here has a story; they have this sense of cool that I know I'll never have. It's infused in their posture, how they glance at you when you get on the F Train, the way their sneakers are worn from walking miles and miles of New York streets.

I'm not ready for New York yet, Los Angeles is it for me, for now. I think if I were to leave Los Angeles tomorrow, I would miss it very much.

I'll post pictures when I return from the east coast. Tomorrow afternoon a train will take me to Philadelphia, land of the fashionless and miserable (or, so the newspaper says). Til then.