Category Archives: New York City

My Masala-Marinated Agent

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Drag hubs into the city for dinner to meet up with Chip MacGregor, my Lit Agent, who’s here among the masses attending BEA 2012 at the Javits Center this week.

“Are you nervous?” Sun asks me as we begin our battle with NYC traffic into Manhattan. 

“Not really. Just want to look professional. Ask good questions. Pick his brain about the industry. And learn what else I can do on my part to become a better writer.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Did you call to make a reservation at the restaurant?”

“No.” It’s a weeknight. Surely the city that never sleeps doesn’t go out to eat on Wednesdays.

“You better call. Just in case.”  Continue reading →

A Chocolate-Covered Sunset

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Fortunately for you, the Anniversary date day isn’t over yet. So neither is the story. [Btw, Thanks for coming back!!]

Unfortunately, walking back to Battery Park Pier after visiting the 9/11 Memorial, lingering emotions settle like seeds blown from a dandelion. Never truly finding their home. Just accept that the memories of that day will always make me sad. Sigh.

Fortunately, we hold hands and walk briskly toward the water, excited about the rest of the evening.

As we get in line for the water taxi, hubby reevaluates our schedule. Is there still time for a spin around the Hudson River before dinner and the show? There will have to be. Because we’ve only hopped on and hopped off once and that is just not acceptable for the Hop on/Hop off Dealio we signed up for. Continue reading →

A Different Kind of Waterfall

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I left you yesterday with a mouthful of pizza and two tix to Memphis in my purse. Sorry Spidey. Next time. Fo sho. Maybe. 

So after our luncheon at Battery Gardens Restaurant, we walk off our meal with our two block stroll to the subway to catch the red line #1 train uptown to Time Square. But when we arrive at 42nd, we begin our second brisk walk over to the west side to find Pier 84. 

Oh, almost forgot to mention the two very different solicitors on the train. One guy had a cardboard sign that read “Donate $1 for weed. Hey. Just keepin it real.” Okay.

The other guy came onto our train after the first stop, carrying a backpack and a guitar and sang that famous Spanish song. You know the one. “Aay yay yay yay” makes up most of the words. And he had a really nice voice. I looked at hubby and smiled. “Did you plan this?” Giggle giggle. Eyelashes batting. Hubby dropped some change in the performer’s bag. “Now that deserves a dollar.”
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Where the Island Ends…

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Went to the city to meet up with my college roomie! Hadn’t seen each other in ten years. With husbands and kids in the mix, it only made sense to head to Central Park for a gorgeous New York afternoon of play and catch-up. What I love about Central Park is how in the midst of one of the busiest cities in the world, there’s this carve out of grass, park benches, bike paths, gardens, miniature lakes, and playgrounds that make for a perfect pit stop before diving into the next week of hustle and bustle. The West Side sandbox park was perfect for the age ranges of all our kids, and while Sarah was climbing up a stairwell, and then the railing, I heard her squeal, “I’m on top of the world!”

Got me thinking. What is it about reaching the peak or finding the end or touching the bottom that appeals to us as humans? Why do we often journey till we reach a limit? 
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