New York, II

I love New York. I love visiting. I love racing up and down subway steps imagining, for just a moment, that I’m part of the hustle and bustle; that I too have someplace so important to be that I couldn’t dream of merely walking down the stairs. I love the sounds of the trains screeching on the tracks. And the chorus of honking taxi horns when you step up from the subway. I love the idea that someone is upset because someone else's pace (hit the gas pedal a half a second BEFORE the light turns green! Don't walk to slowly on the subway stairs! Push the revolving door faster!) might push them a millisecond behind schedule. Superdad calls NY driving "Combat Driving" and I think it's an appropriate title.

Hurry, hurry, rush, rush!

And all that rushing always has New Yorkers on the cutting edge of everything in America, it seems. Some of it good, some of it not, but what's good is so enjoyable to take part. I love watching what people are wearing in NY. It almost seems as if I'm looking at a photo spread in Vogue; people are so well dressed. I love eating out in NY. The restaurants are unique and amazing but, like everything else, ever changing.

Here are my trip highlights: a fun visit with my aunt (check out Sixty-Five's blog for some more tidbits about my trip), a trip to the Museum of Modern Art, a Bobby Flay and Stephanie March sighting (they were at the MoMA too!!!), three extraordinary meals at Bar Americain, Mesa Grill and Lombardi's Pizza and countless hours logged drooling over clothes, bags, jewelry and accessories in one glamorous store after another.

It was a fantastic, too short trip, and I can't wait for the next.