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
Some weeks feel like they stretch into months; others fly by in an instant. The long ones require a little more patience, a little more effort—I have to stop and notice my impatience or mood, and recalibrate. I think about how nice it is to have the luxury of time at home without too many meetings or travel or appointments. I think about things I reliably like (cold cream poured over warm homemade chocolate pudding, the smell of shallots cooking in olive oil, showering with Molton Brown’s bergamot and orange body wash, listening to Sam Cooke when I prep dinner, putting on just-from-the-dryer socks) and I practice shifting my mindset from “what’s coming next” to “where am I right now”.Read More
It’s a brighter day than yesterday—my mood is sunnier, but not light. Sometimes I’m struck by this particular sensation: Of being calm and content but having a gentle, insistent feeling of so many little anxieties hovering at the edges of your mind. They whisper quietly now and again, and aren’t loud enough that you can’t hush them, but they’re there.
Other days those shadows aren’t there; you’re unfettered in your happiness. Or you’re mired in a crisis—work stress or a fight with your sister or nerves over an impending trip—and that’s all you feel.Read More