Moving to NYC has been an amazing experience in so many ways. I can't believe it's been almost 3 weeks since my last blog post - time flies like crazy when you're having fun. There has been so much going on in my life, job applications, dating, friends visiting, visiting family, and on and on.
With everything that's been happening, I feel like I'm right on the brink. Of everything. I'm on the brink of finding an amazing job... or on the brink of finding a mediocre job for now with an amazing job in the works on the horizon. I'm on the brink of finding a fantastic man who inspires me intellectually, keeps me giggling, makes me feel beautiful, and gives me goosebumps, who wants to be in a relationship. I'm on the brink of almost figuring out exactly who I am and who I want to be and coming to terms with all of that.
The other night I went out with my bff Lauren who was in town, and my roomie Matt. Lauren went home either to get pretty and go out with a local man that she met via online dating or to go to sleep because she and Dominic left early the next morning. Matt and I were at one of our favorite local haunts, Branded. I sang a couple of very raspy karaoke songs (and got a compliment from a nice old lady who said, "Even though your voice is blown out, I could tell you sing well and I look forward to seeing you back here once you recover.") and ended up sitting at the bar with Matt and my favorite bartender at Branded, Alex. Alex has this amazing ridiculous white-man-afro thanks to his Italian roots and hipster tendencies. I have never really wanted curly hair, but dang, I do admire a good head of curly hair. ***I interrupt this thought to mention that I found my first grey EYEBROW hair yesterday. What?!?! My eyebrows are now going grey!? Not cool, body, not cool. Carry on with your previously scheduled blog.*** So Matt and I somehow get to talking about life and jobs and my hormones and the whiskey got to me and I had a good ole bar-cry.
For those of you who are reading this blog because my life is way different than yours and you don't know what a bar-cry is, let me enlighten you. A bar-cry is when you sit at the bar with a good friend, probably with a glass or two of wine or beer or in this particular case some whiskey (I'm learning to love the brown stuff again) and you talk about a sensitive topic and tears come to your eyes and you surreptitiously wipe them away when they fall down your cheeks as you deep share with your friend about life and its meaning and how your favorite boots gave you a blister the other day and you feel betrayed.
But seriously, I had a fantastic chat with Matt and he listened and asked good questions and gave me supporting comments while I talked about some of my deepest fears and frustrations and got really vulnerable. Alex was kind and let me and Matt talk and eventually joined in and also had some great words of advice and encouragement.
One of my greatest strengths is also one of my biggest weaknesses. I put bad or negative feelings away in a file drawer in the back of my mind, so that I can push forward and survive and stay positive. This works well when I have little bumps in the road, but I have been unemployed for six months now and I have a lot of negative thoughts in my head and I needed to get them out. I absolutely feel and know that this move to NYC was meant to be and I am destined to be here and my experience, knowledge, and skills will be put to use in their very best way soon enough. But there are moments where I feel intimidated, useless, lame, like a loser, dumb, lame, all of these horrible negative words that are not true in the least bit. I am a powerful, smart, vivacious, gregarious and passionate woman and I know that I am here for a purpose.
Megan made a good point to me the other day, my career thus far has been pretty great, progressing fast and furious through the years. I mean, I was a Vice President at Bank of America before I was 30 years old. Sure, there are a bunch of VPs at BofA, but it was a significant accomplishment and I will always be proud of that. Megan also said to me, "Maybe this is just your time to be humble, to start over, to reevaluate and remember what it means to work hard." That really resonated with me. Maybe I was just too cocksure of myself, maybe this is God's way of saying, "Whoa girl, I gave you talents but let me remind you of where you started." Whatever His plan is, I'm fully open to it and I'm ready to get back to work.
I am a little superstitious right now so I won't share all the details, but today was a day full of great progress in regard to jobs. And believe you me, this girl is determined to make her mark on NYC. This great city needs a joyful, obnoxiously optimistic, honest, meticulous Californian and this city needs her bad.
These days, getting a job is top of my mind. But I'm still enjoying every moment here with Megan, Matt, our friends, and even extended family that I'm meeting for the first time. My depression is completely gone and I feel strong, happy, determined, and I know I'm right on the brink. Keep those prayers coming, because everything is about to fall into place.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Photos from Governor's Island
Megan wrote a little about our journey to Governor's Island on Saturday 9/29 and posted a few of her photos, but I had to add my two cents as well. It was an amazing day. We had talked about going to Governor's Island over Labor Day weekend. The weekend of 9/29-30 was the last weekend it was open, so we arranged to meet Rachel at the ferry before it departed at 2:30. We had to squeeze through subway doors that were closing, we hustled through the streets of Brooklyn Heights, and although we had to run the last couple hundred feet, Matt, Megan, Harris and I made it by the skin of our teeth onto the ferry. Whew!
We were rewarded with amazing views of lower Manhattan. Stunning, really. And once on the island we were treated to really cool old buildings, beautiful trees, and that awesome French carnival. We indulged in some adult beverages, and stood in line for almost an hour in order to get some food in our bellies - totally worth it. After Governor's Island, we walked up Atlantic Ave toward home, and we stopped in at Pete's Waterfront Ale House to kill some time and wet our whistle. We ended the evening at a concert venue that was right across the street from the hotel that Megan and I stayed at when we were looking for a place to live and considering Brooklyn. Rachel had a couple tickets to see Typhoon at Littlefield, and we were able to get a few more tickets even though the event was sold out, so all five of us got into the show! Our phones were all dead by then, so there aren't any photos of anything after about 8:30pm. But maybe that's for the best... haha.
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We were rewarded with amazing views of lower Manhattan. Stunning, really. And once on the island we were treated to really cool old buildings, beautiful trees, and that awesome French carnival. We indulged in some adult beverages, and stood in line for almost an hour in order to get some food in our bellies - totally worth it. After Governor's Island, we walked up Atlantic Ave toward home, and we stopped in at Pete's Waterfront Ale House to kill some time and wet our whistle. We ended the evening at a concert venue that was right across the street from the hotel that Megan and I stayed at when we were looking for a place to live and considering Brooklyn. Rachel had a couple tickets to see Typhoon at Littlefield, and we were able to get a few more tickets even though the event was sold out, so all five of us got into the show! Our phones were all dead by then, so there aren't any photos of anything after about 8:30pm. But maybe that's for the best... haha.
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View of lower Manhattan from the ferry. You can see One World Trade Center rising above the rest of the financial district. To the right you can see the Brooklyn Bridge and if you know where to look you can also see the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building.
Awesome old buildings all over the island. We decided that we're going to start a college on Governor's Island, because it would be an awesome campus.
We saw a bunch of cool art displayed, I took a photo of this particular vignette because it has a spelling error (that you can't pick up on in the photo very well, unfortunately). The board in the second row, second from the left (next to "Stressed") should say, "I'm scared of losing," but instead it says, "I'm scared of loosing." I couldn't resist...
The old timey swings that we wanted to go on
Sure, the pulley belt that was driving the swings was wobbly and scary, but we figured it wasn't that far of a fall in case anything happened. A potential broken leg was worth the risk of fun on the swings.
Weeeeeeeeeeeee! Matt, Rachel and I on the swings.
I'm flying!
Megan was a couple people ahead of me, just enjoying the breeze.
Or maybe she passed out like the first time she ever rode a real rollercoaster, the Viper at Magic Mountain?
Me and Megan and fall foilage
The trees have started to turn and they are gorgeous
Adult lemonade for all!
View of Manhattan from a lovely large field that had red Adirondack chairs strewn about.
Walking back to the ferry, we were in awe of the sunset reflected off of the buildings in the financial district.
Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan Bridge, crisscrossing between islands.
View south toward Staten Island and Jersey, you can see the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, which we drove across to get from Staten Island to Brooklyn.
Rachel, Matt, me, Harris, and Megan.
Downtown Manhattan at dusk.
Sisters on the ferry with Manhattan in the background.
This drink is an amazing "beer," but it's really more like a brandy. Delicious, potent, and very aromatic.
Matt and Rachel celebrating an amazing day in NYC - and this wasn't even the end!
When football makes you cry
No, it's not the playoffs yet (which is when I usually cry about football). But here I sit, with tears streaming down my face, doing the weird cry breathing.
Ok, to be fair, I might be under heavy influence of hormones and be missing my parents and be thinking way too much about what I don't have in my life yet, which is never smart to do when you're a lady coming up on that particular week.
Last week, I recorded a TV show on ESPN, "The Book of Manning." I took a break this morning to watch it, and man was it worth it. As a football fan, you have to be crazy to not recognize the amazing legacy that the Manning family has created. I knew a little bit about Archie Manning, and of course I know about Peyton and Eli, but I really had no idea about the family as a whole. This film is really about the family relationship, above all. Sure, Archie Manning was an amazing football player, a star quarterback in high school and college, and an NFL quarterback for 13 seasons. Amazingly, all three of his sons excelled in football and made their own names (even though Cooper had to give up his football career due to medical challenges). But what really got to me was the relationship between Archie and his sons.
I loved that Archie didn't make a big deal about his own football success and focused on being a dad and raising good people. It broke my heart to learn that Archie's father committed suicide, but then my heart was warmed to see that Archie was committed to being affectionate and supportive of his own sons, in a way to make up for the lack of a relationship he had with his own father. I'm grateful that both of my parents have been unconditionally supportive and loving, even when I was a huge jerk or making a decision that they didn't agree with. I have never doubted that my Mom and Dad love me - they told me often and showed me with their actions and their words. I feel so blessed to know without a doubt that my parents love me, I know there are many people who can't say the same.
Clearly, I'm a lucky girl. I have fantastic parents and a great relationship with my one and only sister, Megan. So then why was I crying? I think I was just having a pity party moment. I'm a positive and happy person a lot of the time, because I tend to lock away or ignore feelings that make me sad or regretful so they don't hold me back. I'm grateful for the life I have and I know that the choices I've made are a part of my history and that there's no point in focusing on what I could have done or what I don't have. But this blog is a sort of therapy for me and so I guess I should share some of what goes through my head when I'm not all smiles and sunshine.
Understanding that there is no magic genie that grants wishes, that I'm in charge of my own destiny, and that I can't change the past, here's some of the thoughts that came to my mind while watching this show... I wish I had gone to a big football school, somewhere in the midwest or the south, where the passion for your alma mater is undeniable and something that you pass on to your children. I wish I had graduated in four years. I wish I was married and raising boys of my own to be the best person they can be. At this point in my life, marriage and children are not even a blip on the horizon, and that hurts more than a little bit. I know I'd be a great wife and mom, and it feels like my time will likely never come. I can't help but feel like I'm doing something wrong. I wish I found something early on that I was so passionate about, like the Mannings are about football, something that I could pursue with devotion and energy. I feel very lost right now about what I want to be when I grow up, even though I feel like something great is right around the corner.
I know I'm having a hormonal moment, because overall I feel so much better than I did a few weeks ago. I'm back on a regular exercise routine and I have started at 12 week weight lifting regime that is making my muscles pleasantly sore. I love weight lifting, it makes me feel strong and healthy and gives me a different feeling than the intense cardio of spin or the calm strength of yoga. I'm still eating healthy and taking my vitamins and supplements. I have my daily routine and I'm sticking to it. So even though I'm continuing the activities to help keep that dark monster of depression at bay, I had a good ole cry today all thanks to football.
Whew, I feel better after getting some of those thoughts out of my head and into this digital journal. Now it's back to the job-hunting grind, networking with family and friends, and preparing for some upcoming fun, October is going to be a fun and busy month!
Tonight I have a Meetup with the Park Slope Girlfriends at Pork Slope, and considering that pork is my favorite meat - I can't wait. This weekend my cousin Robin and her hubby Will (they celebrated 7 years of marriage this week - congratulations!) are coming into town for a wedding and are staying with us. I am so excited to host them in our beautiful apartment and to bop around NYC with them. And in exactly a week, my BFF Lauren and good friend Dominic will have arrived and settled in for a week of fun with me in NYC. I'm glad I got that hormonal cry out of the way, because I need to make room for lots of laughter that's in the future!
Oh, and if you get a chance - check out "The Book of Manning." It's really a great story, although I can't guarantee that you won't shed at least a couple tears.
Ok, to be fair, I might be under heavy influence of hormones and be missing my parents and be thinking way too much about what I don't have in my life yet, which is never smart to do when you're a lady coming up on that particular week.
Last week, I recorded a TV show on ESPN, "The Book of Manning." I took a break this morning to watch it, and man was it worth it. As a football fan, you have to be crazy to not recognize the amazing legacy that the Manning family has created. I knew a little bit about Archie Manning, and of course I know about Peyton and Eli, but I really had no idea about the family as a whole. This film is really about the family relationship, above all. Sure, Archie Manning was an amazing football player, a star quarterback in high school and college, and an NFL quarterback for 13 seasons. Amazingly, all three of his sons excelled in football and made their own names (even though Cooper had to give up his football career due to medical challenges). But what really got to me was the relationship between Archie and his sons.
I loved that Archie didn't make a big deal about his own football success and focused on being a dad and raising good people. It broke my heart to learn that Archie's father committed suicide, but then my heart was warmed to see that Archie was committed to being affectionate and supportive of his own sons, in a way to make up for the lack of a relationship he had with his own father. I'm grateful that both of my parents have been unconditionally supportive and loving, even when I was a huge jerk or making a decision that they didn't agree with. I have never doubted that my Mom and Dad love me - they told me often and showed me with their actions and their words. I feel so blessed to know without a doubt that my parents love me, I know there are many people who can't say the same.
Clearly, I'm a lucky girl. I have fantastic parents and a great relationship with my one and only sister, Megan. So then why was I crying? I think I was just having a pity party moment. I'm a positive and happy person a lot of the time, because I tend to lock away or ignore feelings that make me sad or regretful so they don't hold me back. I'm grateful for the life I have and I know that the choices I've made are a part of my history and that there's no point in focusing on what I could have done or what I don't have. But this blog is a sort of therapy for me and so I guess I should share some of what goes through my head when I'm not all smiles and sunshine.
Understanding that there is no magic genie that grants wishes, that I'm in charge of my own destiny, and that I can't change the past, here's some of the thoughts that came to my mind while watching this show... I wish I had gone to a big football school, somewhere in the midwest or the south, where the passion for your alma mater is undeniable and something that you pass on to your children. I wish I had graduated in four years. I wish I was married and raising boys of my own to be the best person they can be. At this point in my life, marriage and children are not even a blip on the horizon, and that hurts more than a little bit. I know I'd be a great wife and mom, and it feels like my time will likely never come. I can't help but feel like I'm doing something wrong. I wish I found something early on that I was so passionate about, like the Mannings are about football, something that I could pursue with devotion and energy. I feel very lost right now about what I want to be when I grow up, even though I feel like something great is right around the corner.
I know I'm having a hormonal moment, because overall I feel so much better than I did a few weeks ago. I'm back on a regular exercise routine and I have started at 12 week weight lifting regime that is making my muscles pleasantly sore. I love weight lifting, it makes me feel strong and healthy and gives me a different feeling than the intense cardio of spin or the calm strength of yoga. I'm still eating healthy and taking my vitamins and supplements. I have my daily routine and I'm sticking to it. So even though I'm continuing the activities to help keep that dark monster of depression at bay, I had a good ole cry today all thanks to football.
Whew, I feel better after getting some of those thoughts out of my head and into this digital journal. Now it's back to the job-hunting grind, networking with family and friends, and preparing for some upcoming fun, October is going to be a fun and busy month!
Tonight I have a Meetup with the Park Slope Girlfriends at Pork Slope, and considering that pork is my favorite meat - I can't wait. This weekend my cousin Robin and her hubby Will (they celebrated 7 years of marriage this week - congratulations!) are coming into town for a wedding and are staying with us. I am so excited to host them in our beautiful apartment and to bop around NYC with them. And in exactly a week, my BFF Lauren and good friend Dominic will have arrived and settled in for a week of fun with me in NYC. I'm glad I got that hormonal cry out of the way, because I need to make room for lots of laughter that's in the future!
Oh, and if you get a chance - check out "The Book of Manning." It's really a great story, although I can't guarantee that you won't shed at least a couple tears.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
NYC: Taxes, Men, & French Carnival Rides
Happy October!! I. Love. October. From my head to my toes to my inner being and outer shell, I love this time of year. Best month of the year! Bold earth tones, candy, costumes, celebration, the beginning of the holidays, pumpkin everything!!
So this is one of the many blogs that I drafted with good intentions, but something happened in-between my keyboard and pillow that I can't quite explain. Fortunately there were not many edits needed to update the setting of the post: I want[ed] to blog about three thingstonight Sunday night: NYC men, taxes, and Fete Paradiso. We'll start with the taxes because it's it was fresh on me mind.
First, let me reiterate that living in NYC is fantizzletastic. NYC is electric, it's thriving, it's inviting, it's unbelievable and surreally dream-like. Fact: dreams do really come true. =D Everything is different here from the weather and seasons to fashion and men, to the cultures and local fare, to priorities and conversations and taxes. Yes, to taxes. But was it any surprise really? Different state, different tax rates. Duhhhh! But to me, as I tend to be a skimmer-reader, I had obviously somehow missed some crucial information prior to our move about how NY is.....wait for it......a lesser taxed state than CA as it relates to sales and income taxes. Not that it would have stopped me from moving here had I realized that there is both a NY state and NYC city income tax. Truly nothing could have stopped me. NYC was in motion for the Hartman sisters, Rufus, and Mr. Deitrich, that goes without saying.
But when you get down to brass tacks and you compare our two fav states' income and state taxes, you'll see that NY actually does fall below CA and that I was right.......except that I missed the part about NY being one of the only states to impose a city tax for NYC residents. Bah humbug! At the end of the day it's truly only >.2% greater than CA. Then again, why am I wasting anymore time talking about taxes?! Check out the numbers below and let's move on to MEN please! ;-)
So yes, and unsurprisingly so, even and especially the men here are different. I mean I know, I get it. It's on the other side of the continent, it's an entirely different sub-culture of America; everything is illuminated! So that goes without saying that living here in NYC is like being a kid all over again and discovering life, something new with each day. I'm not even kidding you. That's what this all feels like. Being a kid again, but with the logic and wisdom to make good decisions. After all, it's one of the wisest decisions I made to move here. =D Every day here is an adventure, every subway ride an exploration of new people, new behaviors, new sights, new sounds, and all these new-New York men. In my humble and very novice opinion - and some of my male CA friends might disagree, and this is sans my own Father as I am convinced they just don't make men like him anymore - that NYC/Long Island men are more confident, grounded, maybe even go as far to say more serious, but in a good way? They whisper when they talk, they breathe conviction, and they make insanely good and unbreakable eye contact. They speak with fact and they walk with a purpose. It's invigorating and enticing and interesting. And did you know that The New York City metropolitan area is home to the largest Jewish community outside Israel? Grandma Porbanic would smile hearing this. After all, I do remember her sage advice to "meet a nice Jewish boy because he would treat me like a princess". My dreams of becoming a princess have never died.... ;-)
On to Fete Paradiso! First and foremost before I bring the last section to my [long-overdue contribution] posting, let me just point out that what nobody ever talks about when they're remarking on how amazing NYC is, are the tiny islands in and around! It's quite a substantial list! Those I can name off the type of my head are Governor's Island (check!), Liberty Island (check! and, of course), Roosevelt Island, Randall's Island, Fire Island, Ryker's Island (okay, well to be fair, this one's a prison for the most part). This past Saturday we were encouraged we headed out to Governor's Island at the recommendation of a new (and totally awesome might I add?!) local Brooklynite-girlfriend, for the last weekend of Fete Paradiso: French carnival with vintage carnival rides circa late 19th and early 20th centuries. There was a tin-bicycle-powering circular ride that made me feel as though I were a figurine walking around Dad's toy cases. But Fete Paradiso, which literally translates to "girl's paradise" or "paradise feast", I like the latter. But it certainly wasn't just any old carnival though. Fete Paradiso is "the world’s first traveling festival of vintage carnival rides and carousels" and it made its debut on our very own Governor's Island! What a beautiful thing to experience. Insanely magical. All you need to do to imagine just how magical this place was is to pretend you are on a movie set (Fox Lot, anyone...?) and transcend yourself back to the turn of the 20th century, back when times were simpler, laughter was louder, and people were just more, well, dapper. First, get yourself to Governor's Island by way of the free (yes, another free fun thing to do in NYC!) ferry out of Red Hook - if you're a Brooklynite - and if you try, you might just be able to hold your breath for the incredibly short ferry ride to the gorgeous Governor's Island. My. Gosh. I will certainly be returning to this small island latent with such history, such gorgeous architecture, the art, the view!!! The view of Manhattan (and Brooklyn, come on, I have to show some love for my favorite borough) from Governor's Island is out of this world. And at dusk? With a handsome man* and two of my fav NYCers by my side? Priceless. A few pictures below paint a very faint picture of our surreal Saturday. Every Saturday in NYC has been surreal. For real. :-) There are not enough words to describe all the sights and sounds we have been blessed enough to experience already here in NYC. Yet I cannot say enough about it. This is one of those days, one of those memories I will use as a happy place to escape to when work is taking over my psyche. Fete Paradiso, Governor's Island, on the last weekend of September 2013 with a few of my favorite humans. Life. Is. Great. And I think Kel might even have some photos from the carnival swings ride to add.....sis? 8)
*See "nice Jewish boy." =D
Resources:
http://taxes.about.com/od/statetaxes/a/New-York-City-taxes.htm
So this is one of the many blogs that I drafted with good intentions, but something happened in-between my keyboard and pillow that I can't quite explain. Fortunately there were not many edits needed to update the setting of the post: I want[ed] to blog about three things
First, let me reiterate that living in NYC is fantizzletastic. NYC is electric, it's thriving, it's inviting, it's unbelievable and surreally dream-like. Fact: dreams do really come true. =D Everything is different here from the weather and seasons to fashion and men, to the cultures and local fare, to priorities and conversations and taxes. Yes, to taxes. But was it any surprise really? Different state, different tax rates. Duhhhh! But to me, as I tend to be a skimmer-reader, I had obviously somehow missed some crucial information prior to our move about how NY is.....wait for it......a lesser taxed state than CA as it relates to sales and income taxes. Not that it would have stopped me from moving here had I realized that there is both a NY state and NYC city income tax. Truly nothing could have stopped me. NYC was in motion for the Hartman sisters, Rufus, and Mr. Deitrich, that goes without saying.
But when you get down to brass tacks and you compare our two fav states' income and state taxes, you'll see that NY actually does fall below CA and that I was right.......except that I missed the part about NY being one of the only states to impose a city tax for NYC residents. Bah humbug! At the end of the day it's truly only >.2% greater than CA. Then again, why am I wasting anymore time talking about taxes?! Check out the numbers below and let's move on to MEN please! ;-)
California
Income tax: 6.85% (8.82% on income over $1 million) + 3.5% NY city income tax = 9.5%
State sales tax: 4%
PLUS
State sales tax: 4%
PLUS
New York City Income Tax
New York City has a separate city income tax in addition to the state income tax for individuals. New York City income tax rates range from 2.907% to 3.648%.So yes, and unsurprisingly so, even and especially the men here are different. I mean I know, I get it. It's on the other side of the continent, it's an entirely different sub-culture of America; everything is illuminated! So that goes without saying that living here in NYC is like being a kid all over again and discovering life, something new with each day. I'm not even kidding you. That's what this all feels like. Being a kid again, but with the logic and wisdom to make good decisions. After all, it's one of the wisest decisions I made to move here. =D Every day here is an adventure, every subway ride an exploration of new people, new behaviors, new sights, new sounds, and all these new-New York men. In my humble and very novice opinion - and some of my male CA friends might disagree, and this is sans my own Father as I am convinced they just don't make men like him anymore - that NYC/Long Island men are more confident, grounded, maybe even go as far to say more serious, but in a good way? They whisper when they talk, they breathe conviction, and they make insanely good and unbreakable eye contact. They speak with fact and they walk with a purpose. It's invigorating and enticing and interesting. And did you know that The New York City metropolitan area is home to the largest Jewish community outside Israel? Grandma Porbanic would smile hearing this. After all, I do remember her sage advice to "meet a nice Jewish boy because he would treat me like a princess". My dreams of becoming a princess have never died.... ;-)
On to Fete Paradiso! First and foremost before I bring the last section to my [long-overdue contribution] posting, let me just point out that what nobody ever talks about when they're remarking on how amazing NYC is, are the tiny islands in and around! It's quite a substantial list! Those I can name off the type of my head are Governor's Island (check!), Liberty Island (check! and, of course), Roosevelt Island, Randall's Island, Fire Island, Ryker's Island (okay, well to be fair, this one's a prison for the most part). This past Saturday we were encouraged we headed out to Governor's Island at the recommendation of a new (and totally awesome might I add?!) local Brooklynite-girlfriend, for the last weekend of Fete Paradiso: French carnival with vintage carnival rides circa late 19th and early 20th centuries. There was a tin-bicycle-powering circular ride that made me feel as though I were a figurine walking around Dad's toy cases. But Fete Paradiso, which literally translates to "girl's paradise" or "paradise feast", I like the latter. But it certainly wasn't just any old carnival though. Fete Paradiso is "the world’s first traveling festival of vintage carnival rides and carousels" and it made its debut on our very own Governor's Island! What a beautiful thing to experience. Insanely magical. All you need to do to imagine just how magical this place was is to pretend you are on a movie set (Fox Lot, anyone...?) and transcend yourself back to the turn of the 20th century, back when times were simpler, laughter was louder, and people were just more, well, dapper. First, get yourself to Governor's Island by way of the free (yes, another free fun thing to do in NYC!) ferry out of Red Hook - if you're a Brooklynite - and if you try, you might just be able to hold your breath for the incredibly short ferry ride to the gorgeous Governor's Island. My. Gosh. I will certainly be returning to this small island latent with such history, such gorgeous architecture, the art, the view!!! The view of Manhattan (and Brooklyn, come on, I have to show some love for my favorite borough) from Governor's Island is out of this world. And at dusk? With a handsome man* and two of my fav NYCers by my side? Priceless. A few pictures below paint a very faint picture of our surreal Saturday. Every Saturday in NYC has been surreal. For real. :-) There are not enough words to describe all the sights and sounds we have been blessed enough to experience already here in NYC. Yet I cannot say enough about it. This is one of those days, one of those memories I will use as a happy place to escape to when work is taking over my psyche. Fete Paradiso, Governor's Island, on the last weekend of September 2013 with a few of my favorite humans. Life. Is. Great. And I think Kel might even have some photos from the carnival swings ride to add.....sis? 8)
Fete Paradiso propaganda
View of south east Manhattan = Battery Park-ish.
A beautiful day indeed. View through the trees from the 'food court/garden' where we patiently awaited our oysters, crabcake, lemon tarte, pumpkin spice cupcake, bratwurst, and baguettitos, oh, and the sangria!
'Floating Harvest Dome'; part of the continuous outdoor/indoor art exhibit.
Rachel and I were in agreement on this. Indoor art exhibit, not even to the wild installations yet.
The man who ate fire, as we stood in amazement.
My camera does not capture the charm of these toys.
Trying to focus on the motorcycle and peddle car for Pops!
View of her gorgeousness by dusk. Pinch me!
And us. Your favorite Hartman sisters LA > NYC transplants. Keeping it real and reppin' our So Cal light BRIGHT here on the other side of the continent. <-- I just like saying that!
*See "nice Jewish boy." =D
Resources:
http://taxes.about.com/od/statetaxes/a/New-York-City-taxes.htm
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