I've been back in the city for a almost a week now. It took a few days to adjust after my red eye flight, both to the time change and the pace of the city. (Sleeping for five hours immediately upon arrival and not leaving the apartment for most of the day took care of that nicely.) It was really wonderful to be home, spending much-needed time with my family and friends and getting my fill of favorite restaurants and activities. However, as I was driving all around Seattle (ahhh, driving) I realized that - as nice as it was to be there - it didn't feel as much like home anymore. I was officially "just visiting."
Now that I'm in the Big, Bad, Beautiful Apple again, I can't help but brag about why I'm just so glad to be back...
I left with one suitcase and returned with two. My slightly swelled closet content brings me a lot of joy and renewed ensemble creativity.
Mmm Spice, how I have missed you and your addictive-like-crack pad thai.
My queen-size bed with a million pillows > my twin bed at home.
All black everything.
Late night everything.
It's cold enough and socially appropriate to wear my vintage fur jackets.
My new coffee tumbler that is also a french press makes me feel really sophisticated and busy when I'm walking the streets.
I've rationalized that heaps of dirty old snow covered with heaps of dirty old garbage bags all over the sidewalks aren't so bad because at least they doesn't stink like dirty old hot garbage.
Gina bought seasons two and three of Gossip Girl on DVD. Bring on the headbands and Nair-tinis.
Winter in NYC takes layering to the level of art form.
I missed my roommates. There's nothing quite like evenings in our little apartment with homemade spaghetti and red wine; recapping, venting, imagining and laughing uncontrollably about our lives in this crazy place.
Life is unpredictable here, but at least the cab fares aren't.
24-hour deli, you are a revelation. Still. Again. Always.
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