Dating in New York

  A few weeks ago I went to lunch with a man I'd dated for a little while. Because we're friends, now. Which, you know, feels very mature.

And so we do things. Like go to lunch. And as we were parting ways, I had a thought and turned to him:

Every time I turn on my gas stove I think about you. Which, well, it must be that the scent of the gas is somehow connected to you? And how could that be? And do you think maybe you have a gas leak in your apartment?

Oh. Yeah. I do, was his response. Without batting an eye or missing a beat, Oh. Yeah. I do.

And I sighed. And laughed, just a little.

Dating in New York. So it goes.

I'm waiting for that scene in a rom-com.

Editor's Note: I have been assured that the super was called and the gas-leak was taken care of. 

my new york | the brooklyn promenade, the green before the leaves turn, and the sort of red vespa that makes me swoon

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  It is true that words drop away, and that the important things are often left unsaid. The important things are learned in faces, in gestures, not in our locked tongues. The true things are too big or too small, or in any case, always the wrong size to fit the template called language. | Jeanette Winterson

my new york | brunch and bikes and early september light

(It took me about an hour and twenty minutes to get to Williamsburg last Saturday {it should have taken 25 minutes, but the G train was construction or something...} This is to say, I was hungry. Or hangry. So my brunch at Egg was epic. Bacon and sausage and pancakes, oh my!)

(I can't get over this little park in Cobble Hill--always makes me think of the park in Notting Hill AND NOTTING HILL IS HAVING A MAJOR MOMENT IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW).

(I told you, pancakes).

Married in Newport

I had the extreme pleasure of witnessing one of of my closest friends marry the man of her dreams this weekend (I tried to think of a better way to say that--man of her dreams--but sometimes there's nothing better than that standard phrase).

The whole thing was heaven. Getting to witness that very courageous thing of two people pledging their lives--one to the other--is always a sight. So don't even get me started on getting to witness it against such a picturesque backdrop (I don't know that I've ever seen blue like the blue of that water).

(the very dapper groom)

(someone told us to do our "excited" face...this is what happened)

When Joy was prepping everything and gathering information for the invitations she sent emails out asking for basic info...like the name of our significant other. Joy knew I did not have one. But, for the sake of the email I reiterated this, and then gave her a very hard time about the fact that she made me put it down on paper for posterity. Yes, single. But I ended up with her roommate of nearly seven years, Matt, as my partner in crime. And ladies, I gotta tell you. Having a dancer as your wedding date is one of the most genius things that could happen to you. I just sort of giggled and squealed and asked him to throw me around. And throw me he did. We literally spun the night away.

I'm so very proud of Joy and Devin. Proud of how far they've come, as individuals and as a couple. And it was such a blessing to share in their day.