The days have rapidly grown colder in the past week. On Sunday, out on Long Island, it was still warm enough to end my morning run at the dock and sit, legs crossed, with my face tilted up to the sun. After a minute of some truly pathetic attempts at vigorous stretching, I took a deep breath and untied my shoes and shimmied down the ladder to dunk my head—whoosh—under the surface of the water, glinting like diamonds in the sunlight. It wasn’t terribly frigid yet, but it was cold enough to make me gasp, scrabbling for the edges of the ladder and climbing out to shake the droplets from my wet hair.Read More
L.M. Montgomery wrote, “I’m so glad to live in a world where there are Octobers” and I couldn’t agree more. As with any change in season, the first few moments whisper new and old at the same time —they’re a shift from the previous weeks, but still so achingly familiar. I feel a stirring around every corner in October, my heart swelling when I step outside to take a run and the air feels as crisp as a brand new dollar bill. I look for autumn everywhere. There’s a little boy beside me in Duane Reade, earnestly eyeing the Halloween candy display. I almost lean down to say, “between you and me, Almond Joy really gets a bad rap” but I’ll let him spend years coveting miniature Snickers and Twix before he reaches that very mature conclusion.Read More
Most weekday afternoons, I take the subway down from my apartment to Soho. I get on the 2,3 express train, switching to the local at 14th Street, and exit at the Houston stop. I walk two blocks to the quiet block of Sullivan Street just north of Prince, which is shaded by trees and lined with brick apartment buildings, their exteriors ribboned with the iron grates of fire escapes, that wouldn’t look out of place in an episode of Friends. It’s a comforting snippet of the city, one that feels oddly neighborhood-like despite its proximity to the grit and noise of the NYU area.Read More
And here we are again: the lush, verdant days of late spring. This time of year has such particular charms; it’s lovely in small specific ways. The air in the early mornings is still cool and cold, ripening under the day’s sunlight into soft, warm spring evenings. I love watching people emerge from the subway as dusk approaches, flooding the streets with activity. I like seeing them unclench their shoulders and turn their faces to the sunset. I like how everyone ambles slowly home, unlike in the winters when they dash from train or cab to apartment, trying to spend as little time outside as possible.Read More
Here is a nice way to have a nice day. First, get up and get out of bed. This is imperative to the plan—really, it just doesn’t work if you loll about reading old articles of Shouts & Murmurs on thenewyorker.com and wishing someone would bring you a plate of crispy bacon.
Okay, so you’re out of bed! Good! Well done! But that’s not going to be enough. Now listen carefully to this next part: tear through the “brush-teeth-wash-face-put-on-running-clothes-lace-up-sneakers” process. Under no circumstances are you to overthink this, or do it slowly, or put on your shoes but then instead of running shorts, try on a few nonsensical outfits like that ill-advised llama-print t-shirt you bought last spring from J.Crew with a long flowy silk skirt just to see if you can “pull off the high-low trend” (you can’t).Read More