Tulips

I never really paid much attention to tulips before I moved to the city, but now it's almost impossible not to notice them. They're everywhere now — in the medians, in sidewalk planters, in window boxes and throughout the parks and gardens around the city. I've kind of become obsessed with them, and every time I think I've found a favorite, I walk by another color or variation that is even better.

There are ones that look like roses, spiky ones and striped ones, ones with ruffles, miniature ones and ones that are impossibly tall. If I had to pick a favorite I would have to say the darker the better; there's just something about a dark purple, almost black flower that I really love. Dark tulips always remind me of a Victorian funeral and are a little bit morbid — kind of the direct opposite of every other hopeful and bright spring bloom. Two years ago while I was visiting the city (and the Conservatory Gardens for the first time) I fell in love with the dark purple tulip and I'm still not over them.

I always thought that tulips had a very brief blooming season, but they seem to be sticking around for longer than I would have expected. There are even some in the Conservatory Garden that haven't reached their peak yet — I've been checking on them a few times a week since the beginning of April and they just recently started to come to life. I'll definitely be sad when tulip season is officially over and my daily commute gets a little less colorful.

Coney Island: Opening Day 2014

A few Sundays ago Jim had a friend visiting the city from the UK. It was her first time in New York (and the US in general) and we were having drinks at an amazing rooftop bar when I casually mentioned that Coney Island's opening day was in two days. She said that she was interested in checking it out, and Jim and I never pass up an opportunity for an adventure, so on Sunday morning we met up for our first beach visit since last year. It was a little chilly near the water, but it was brilliantly sunny and actually felt as if the longest winter ever might finally be coming to an end.

The crowd was kind of sparse, which was equal parts great (no lines!) and kind of sad (support Coney Island, people!). Sometimes the best part of a visit to Coney Island is just imagining what it must have been like in its heyday. Once again I find myself wishing for the ability to step in and out of different time periods — to be a part of an opening day celebration when Coney Island was the place to be would be a total dream come true.

But, being there in 2014 was not without its perks — we were all ready to buy tickets to the Wonder Wheel when we were waved through the line for a completely free ride (and no waiting!). I had heard that they were letting the first 100 people ride the Cyclone for free, but I'm still not exactly sure how we were lucky enough to snag a spot on the Wonder Wheel. I have only ridden the Cyclone once — more akin to a car accident than normal roller coaster — but the Wonder Wheel is always fun.

There was a juggler on stilts and a DJ on the boardwalk, but that was about it for the "festivities." My favorite part of Coney Island is always just walking around and taking photos and this was the first time I'd been back since I got my new camera. There is always something new to discover or see, but I make sure to get my fortune from either Zoltar or Grandma before I leave.

Jim and I have already made plans to return for the Mermaid Parade in June, which has been on my to-do list for years. I'm also excited to go back when it's warm enough to actually lay on the beach, although it should surprise no one to say that I'm not exactly a beach person. I can't think of a better place, however, to try to bring back those old-timey wool bathing costumes — preferably something in a red-and-white stripe — than the weird and tacky, sometimes sad, but always fascinating Coney Island.

Friday Food: McSorley's Old Ale House

A few weeks ago Jim and I finally went to McSorley's Old Ale House, the oldest "Irish" tavern in New York. McSorley's has been on East 7th Street in the East Village since 1854 (although apparently this date is debatable) and women weren't even allowed inside until August of 1970.

The place is exactly how you want an historic tavern to be: packed with memorabilia like engravings of Teddy Roosevelt, photos of John F. Kennedy and at least one stuffed jackalope, all of which looks as if it was hung when it actually reflected current events. Abraham Lincoln drank there, as did Ulysses S. Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, Woody Guthrie and Hunter S. Thompson.

There is sawdust on the floor and everything has a thick layer of dust that is equal parts gross and completely appropriate. The place was crowded and all the tables were full so we just stood at the counter, which ended up being great. We stood right under a chandelier draped with dusty wishbones — allegedly left by men going off to war (WWI, II, Iraq, Afghanistan, etc.). The men that returned claimed their wishbones, so the ones that remain are sacred, sad and did I mention very, very dusty (although apparently the health department suggested that they be cleaned recently).

At McSorley's they serve two kinds of beer: light and dark, and that's it. You order "one" and you actually get two — there is one size and I'm still unclear clear on how to order if you just want one glass. I have never been a huge fan of beer so I was a bit nervous that I wouldn't be able to finish mine but I needn't have worried. I not only didn't hate it, but I actually really enjoyed it — so much so that I ended up ordering us another round. I thought I'd just order "one" round so we could each drink one more glass but I somehow ended up with a total of four beers.

They serve food, which I'd like to try eventually, but we had dinner plans so we left after about an hour, slightly tipsier than when we entered. I love the atmosphere and the history of McSorley's and it was definitely one (or four) of the most enjoyable drinks I've ever had. The lack of options was so refreshing and there was absolutely zero pretense which I really appreciate. McSorley's doesn't have to try to be cool because it already is cool, and has been for 160 years.

My Tenth Month as a New Yorker

April was the first month during which I actually started two separate Facebook albums to accommodate all of the photos I took on my various trips and adventures. I only spent two of the four weekends in New York, but that didn't stop me from making the most out of them. The other two were spent in Texas and Ohio visiting friends and family, which was wonderful but also served to remind me just how much I really adore being able to call New York my home. I also had four days off during the week for Passover, which is a delightful perk of working at a Jewish organization.

The city definitely started to come to life during the past month, even if it has happened much slower than normal and there's still quite a bit still left to bloom. Spring is the last "uncharted" season in the city for me — I've spent two winters, part of summer and one entire fall here thus far, but my spring trips were few and far between and I left at the beginning of March last year. I went to the Brooklyn Botanic garden twice in April and I've still yet to see the cherry esplanade in bloom — if their map is to be believed it still has a few days or even weeks to go before it reaches its peak. I'm definitely trying to make the most out of this prolonged blooming season and surprisingly I've yet to pet spring to death although I'm sure it will happen soon enough.

A few more highlights from my chilly but colorful April:

I randomly walked by a phone kiosk ad that I designed on the Upper West Side  /  Jim and I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and found that not much was in bloom but the Bonsai Museum was a delight as always /  We went to Tom's in Brooklyn, and admired their naturally occurring rock speakers   /  I visited the First of three cemeteries of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue and stumbled on another cemetery in Manhattan that I didn't even know existed.

I continued my love affair with the bubble-makers in Washington Square Park and watched as hundreds of people celebrated International Pillow Fight Day  /  I crossed the no. 4 stand-alone diner off my list and saw Ice-T as we were leaving / I participated in the Big Egg Hunt all over New York and braved the crowds for Macy's flower show  /  Jim and I got coffee and photo-boothed (his first!) at the Ace Hotel.

I went to the last of the three cemeteries /  I continued to be oddly obsessed with pretty manhole covers around the city  /  Jim and I walked the High Line  /  I met Jim and his friends from the UK at the most amazing rooftop bar where we watched the sunset over the Empire State building and drank embarrassingly expensive cocktails  / I crossed the last stand-alone diner off my list - Star on 18 /  I went back to the High Line where the wildflowers were just starting to bloom.

I finally found my favorite egg- one made from street signs in TriBeCa  /  I spotted an ad I designed in the TriBeCa Trib  /  Jim and I took his friend from the UK (it was her first time in the US!) on a tour through Central Park where I spotted the best group of tourists and some delightful blooms  /  We went to opening day of Coney Island, rode the Wonder Wheel for free and I ate my first Nathan's of the season.

I finally got to see the New York Marble Cemetery and we had a drink (or four) afterwards at McSorley's Old Ale House  /  I had a few days off for Passover and went to Tom's in Brooklyn for pancakes and coffee, and then back to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden to check on the blooms— the cherry trees were breathtaking  /  I visited the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, which is always perfect.

The Empire State building was lit up like an Easter egg  /  I went to Texas for Easter weekend to spend time with my sister, brother-in-law, niece and their incredibly adorable new rescue dog, Penny  /  We stopped to take photos in a field of bluebonnets, dyed Easter eggs, visited the flower mound in Flowermound and I had my first-ever Butterbeer (it was kind of gross/good?).

As soon as I got back from Texas I dropped off my luggage and headed right back to Queens for the 50th anniversary of the opening day of the World's Fair, where I tried (unsuccessfully) to get into the New York State Pavilion and discovered even more remnants of the fair  /  The cherry trees along the reservoir in Central Park finally started to bloom  /  I went back to LaGuardia once again on my way back to Ohio with some recent library scores  /  I made cookies for 427 Design's open house party  /  I managed to squeeze in a cemetery visit during my short Ohio trip, to Glendale in Akron.

I definitely teared up a little landing back in New York when I realized I was home /  I spotted (and smelled) my first lilacs of the season in Central Park and made the Conservatory Garden part of my morning (and evening) commute  /  I waved hello to the lone yellow tulip in the Park Avenue median of tulips every day on my way to work and ate my lunch under the blooming cherries  /  I had my first-ever chicken and waffles at Sylvia's in Harlem and loved it.

I have a lot of fun plans for May and the rest of the summer and I'm hoping that the weather cooperates. I'm planning on heading back to the BBG this weekend to check on the cherries and I definitely need to make time for the NYBG as well. I read a blurb in New York Magazine that warned of the Farmers' Almanac prediction that New York is going to "feel like Louisiana" this summer which I'm alternately dreading and looking forward to.

I can't believe that my one year New York-iversary will be here before I even know it — it feels like just yesterday I was booking my one-way ticket without a job or a place to live. Well, now that I've been here longer than it would have taken to fully gestate a real life human being I think it's safe to say that I couldn't have dreamed of a better outcome — it's all so much better than I ever imagined, and improbably getting better every single day.

Spotting Spring

Although it's almost May and it currently feels as if it could very well snow again, spring has managed to force its way into the city, slowly but surely. My daily commute includes a nearly 2.5 mile walk across Central Park, where I have been able to witness the day-by-day changes to the cherry trees, tulips, daffodils and other blooming delights.

Everything has been quite delayed due to the crazy winter we had (are still having?) and I was afraid that I would miss the best blooms while I was out of town, but we're still a few weeks away from the peak. Whenever I can get moving early enough, I walk from my apartment on the west side to my job on the east side, walking along the reservoir which is lined with cherry trees (my favorite).

If I really get an early start I have time to walk through the Conservatory Garden, and I brought my camera with me the other day in hopes that the field of tulips had started blooming. Unfortunately they were still entirely green, but the daffodils, magnolia trees and even the lilac (my favorite scent) have already made an appearance.

The Conservatory Garden is one of my very favorite spots in the park and I still haven't gotten over the fact that it's a regular stop in my morning commute. I do wish they had a bloom map like the Brooklyn Botanic Garden has for their cherry trees so I wouldn't be continually afraid that I was missing something, but there's always something nice to look at no matter when I stop by.

After leaving Central Park I still have a few east side avenues to cross before I arrive at work, and the Park Avenue tulips have just started blooming. In one median in particular there is one lone yellow flower amongst all of the bright pink ones and I make it a point to say hi to it each morning as I pass. I can't say that I'm not getting impatient for the warm weather to stick around for good, but I'm enjoying this prolonged blooming season, and I'm trying not to miss a single blossom or bud. I might never be rich enough to actually live on the park (or Park Avenue) but getting to walk through/past them each morning is pretty amazing.

Remnants of the New York World's Fair Part 2

I've written about Flushing-Meadows Corona Park and the remnants of the World's Fairs before (I first went in January of 2013 and then again in January of this year), but the more I visit and the more I read about the fairs the more obsessed I become. Lucky for me this year marks the 50th anniversary of the opening of the 1964 World's Fair so there's been even more to see and read about than usual.

Last Tuesday was the anniversary of opening day and they decided to allow people into the New York State Pavilion for the first time in years. I actually had the day off because it was the last day of Passover, but I was flying back from Texas in the morning so I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it. I dropped my luggage off at my apartment and headed right back out to Queens, but by the time I got there they had stopped handing out tickets and had closed the line. I later read that more than 2,500 people showed up to see the Pavilion and the wait ended up being hours and hours long.

I was initially bummed that I wasn't able to get in, but it looks like they were only letting people step in a few feet and I don't think there's really much left of the terrazzo New York State floor map after all of these years. You can see inside of the Pavilion just by peaking through the gates and if you look hard enough you can even see the old elevators that used to be hanging from the observation towers — they're just laying in a heap on the ground, rotting away like much of the rest of the Pavilion.

I spent the rest of the day walking around the park and discovering remnants of the fairs that I somehow managed either not to notice or hadn't known existed during my previous visits to the park. There are the art deco-style water fountains and the spacey/curvy benches, futuristic sculptures and granite markers for the pathways with awesome names like the "Avenue of Science," "Court of the President" and "Eisenhower Promenade."

I will never get tired of just walking around the park and soaking up the history and it was especially nice to be there on the anniversary of opening day. The blooming trees provided a gorgeous backdrop to the always-impressive Unisphere, although I was disappointed that the fountains weren't turned on — could there be a better reason to have them on than the 50th anniversary?

On May 18th there will be an actual World's Fair Anniversary Celebration in the park which has been on my calendar from the moment it was announced. I can't wait to eat a Belgian waffle in the same spot in which they were first introduced, and if I squint hard enough (or they finally turn on the Unisphere fountains) I might actually be able to convince myself that I'm back in 1964, if only for the day.

Friday Food: Stand-alone Diners Parts 4 + 5

Last weekend I finally crossed the last stand-alone diner off my list when I ate at Star on 18 in Chelsea. The week before, I had eaten at no. 4, the Market Diner in Hell's Kitchen. Of the two, the Market Diner was definitely the more interesting (at least aesthetically), although Star on 18 had better food and exceptional service.

The Market Diner is on 11th Ave between 43rd and 44th streets and is open 24 hours. Not only does the Market have outdoor seating (like the Square Diner) but they also have dedicated parking, which is such an odd sight in Manhattan. The inside is also suspiciously spacious and they could probably fit twice as many tables if they squeezed them in like most New York restaurants are so fond of doing.

The decor is part diner, part 60s Howard Johnson and is a little space-agey and a whole lot of orange. They had real flowers on each table, which was a nice touch (no fake dew drops here), and the egg-and-cheese sandwich I had was quite good.

I was totally enamored with the huge 'diner' sign, until I started to walk away, turned around and saw that the opposite side was even better— the beautiful script 'market' and silvery blue, white and red color palette is the stuff all of my diner sign dreams are made of.

Oh, and Ice-T was waiting for a table when we left, which makes it the only diner of the five where I had a bonafide celebrity sighting — I didn't say anything because I'm a New Yorker now, but I did wait outside for 20 minutes awkwardly staring at him and deciding whether or not I should approach him (because of Law and Order of course, not his rap career).

Star on 18 was the most disappointing of the five diners, architecturally speaking, and if I hadn't been looking for it I would probably have never given it a second glance. Apparently they at least used to have the word 'diner' accompanied by illustrations of traditional diner foods painted on the side of the cement building but it looked as if it had been freshly painted (it also used to be blue).

The inside is loaded with traditional charm, with a counter, stools (with backs!) and rows of booths. The painted windows were a nice spring touch, and from where I sat I had a nice view of the High Line. Our waitress was wonderful and the food was a notch above average diner fare — the eggs weren't greasy, the bacon was crisp and my waffle came with a cup of real, infinitely spreadable butter (no frozen or impossible-to-open packets).

I'm sort of sad that I've eaten at all five of the stand-alone diners on my list already, in the way that I get sad when I finish a good book. I'm also sad in a different way that there are only five stand-alone diners left in Manhattan to begin with, and that there probably won't be anymore opening anytime soon (if ever). Luckily all five are definitely worth revisiting and there are four other boroughs (and a lot more "regular" diners in Manhattan) to keep me in waffles every weekend.

BBG: Cherry Blossoms 2014

Two years ago this week I saw the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden for the first time ever. In fact, it was my first time really seeing cherry blossoms en masse and I was instantly enchanted. I wasn't able to see them last year because I was back in Ohio, but I've been looking forward to cherry blossom season ever since.

Well, this year I managed to schedule two back-to-back weekend trips (to Texas, then Ohio) right during what is usually peak blossom season. Thanks to the crazy cold/long winter that we've had the blooms are definitely delayed, and I'm hoping that I can still catch them at peak bloom after I get back. I didn't want to take any chances, however, so I knew I had to find a way to see whatever had started to bloom before I left. I had yesterday (and Tuesday) off work because of Passover (the joys of working for a Jewish cultural institution) and although it was cold — it actually snowed  again Tuesday night — it was brilliantly sunny so I went to check on the cherry trees at the BBG.

Not a single tree in the cherry esplanade is in bloom yet, but thankfully a handful of other trees around the garden have gotten an early start. I took so many photos that I was actually fearful of filling up my 32 gb memory card, but I just couldn't stop myself. Every time I walked two feet the view was even better than the previous one and the light was so beautiful that I couldn't put down my camera.

I'm certainly not an expert, but there are at least a few different varieties of cherry trees at the BBG — from white and pale pink to brighter, almost fuchsia blooms. They come in different sizes and configurations, some trees have weeping branches (my favorite) and some have twisty black limbs that contrast with the pale blossoms in the best way.

Especially after the winter we've had this spring feels well-deserved and very much overdo. I can't really even convey how happy it made me to be walking around and under such incredible beauty, but words aren't really necessary or could ever be adequate in situations such as these — good thing I maxed out my computer hard drive with photos documenting nearly every single blossom I came across.

I'm going to try to make a return trip at the beginning of May and hopefully catch the rest of the late bloomers, but I won't feel as if I've missed out if for some reason I can't make it. I doubt they'll be in peak bloom for the Sakura festival next weekend, although that's definitely something I'd like to check out next year.

I'd also like to plan a trip to DC for their cherry blossom festival even if I fear that I might actually die of happiness if I actually make it there during peak bloom season. If I do, just dig a hole, throw my body in and plop a cherry tree on top — I don't know if I believe in reincarnation, but there are way worse things to come back as than a crazy beautiful blossoming cherry tree.

Bubbles

A few weeks ago I ended up in Washington Square Park during in the middle of a wonderful, wandering Saturday (after eating at the Square Diner and visiting the smallest cemetery) and ended up spending a few hours completely fascinated by a woman making enormous bubbles. I've seen the huge bubble makers before — in Central Park mostly — and I never cease to be amazed at every single bubble.

It's quite a simple set up, but of course the bubbles are so unique every single time that it never gets boring. It's also fun to watch people interact with the bubbles, although I do get annoyed that they attract bratty kids who like to pop them immediately after they're made.

I have found, however, that if I wait around long enough I'll eventually see someone get soaked by a popped bubble or if I'm really lucky I'll witness a particularly overzealous kid slipping and falling in the residue, which makes me feel as if there might be a tiny bit of justice/balance in the world (he was totally ok - I'm not THAT much of a monster).

This was also the first time that I'd watched a bubble maker (that sounds weird but they're not bubble blowers because they just sort of let the wind do its thing) since I got my new camera, so I went a little crazy trying to capture the perfect bubble photo. There were a ton of other people trying to do the same thing so I didn't feel too awkward, and I certainly fared better than the guy I saw get totally soaked trying to get a close-up shot.

As far as street/park performers go, the bubble makers are definitely some of my favorite — far less obnoxious than the "IT'S SHOWTIME" guys but still not quite as impressive as the person I saw (also in Washington Square) playing a full-size piano or the guy in Times Square who walks around with a cat on his head. Mozart and I really need to step up our game, but until then I'm content to watch other people's crazy talents and occasionally photograph them (or better still, photograph the people photographing them with their iPads).

BBG Bonsai Museum

A few weekends ago Jim and I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden because I convinced him that the daffodil hill must be in bloom. Well, it was a total fail because only about four daffodils were actually in bloom and I said more than once "yeah but just imagine how beautiful they'll be when they finally do appear." The garden is free from 10 am - noon on Saturdays, so I can't really complain. There's always something interesting to see, even if nature doesn't always cooperate with my expectations.

My favorite part this time was the bonsai museum, which I think was being worked on when I went last year, but now is really fantastic. It's occupies a small space in the conservatory, which is fine because bonsai trees are teeny tiny and completely adorable.

Apparently their collection of about 350 trees is the "second oldest in the country and one of the largest on public display outside Japan, with as many as 30 specimens on exhibit at any given time." Bonsai trees really need no frills in their display to make them interesting, they're totally cool just on their own.

One of the trees on view when we went was almost 300 years old, and another almost 200. The art of Bonsai is just kind of baffling to me and they never cease to blow my mind a little. I have a really hard time actually believing that they're real and the fact that they are just seems impossible to me.

And really it's kind of cheating because everything looks better in miniature. Is there anything cuter in nature than these teeny tiny neon green pine needles growing on this teeny tiny pine tree? Nope.

First and Third Cemeteries of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue

After I visited the smallest cemetery in Manhattan and noticed that it was called the "second" cemetery of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, I did some investigating Googling and discovered that there are actually three separate burial grounds associated with the Congregation of Shearith Israel. Once I also learned that both the first and the third cemeteries were still in existence, I knew I had to "collect all three," and this past weekend I did just that.

All three cemeteries are in Manhattan — the first is at 55 St. James Place near Chinatown, the second is on West 11th in Greenwich Village and the third is on 21st Street between 6th and 7th Avenues in Chelsea. The first cemetery dates back to 1656 and is the first Jewish cemetery in the United States (the Congregation is the oldest in North America). It's larger than the second, gated (and locked) like the other two, and raised above sidewalk-level so I had to stand on my tip-toes to get a good look.

The first cemetery is definitely one of the oldest burial grounds that I've ever visited. Although the exact location of the original cemetery is not known, it was established at its current location in 1683 which is still about 200 years older than most of the cemeteries that I've seen. It actually holds the distinction of being the second oldest cemetery in Manhattan, after Trinity Churchyard on Wall Street (and only certain parts of that cemetery are older). Over the years the land has been chiseled away by city expansion and erosion and sadly a lot of the bodies have been disinterred.

The third cemetery was in use from 1829-1851 and is in such a modern/trendy area of town that it definitely looks out of place. There is a Trader Joe's directly across the street, which I'm sure is not what the initial residents had in mind, but being so close to such delicious (and cheap!) food isn't a bad way to spend eternity, if you ask me. It also appears to be the largest of the three, and is the one in the best condition (a plaque on the fence mentions a recent restoration).

The grounds look well-kept, although a lot of the stones are falling or have fallen over and some are in multiple pieces. It was a little hard to see from far away, but it even looks as though one of the pathways in the back is actually just fallen tombstones, lined up one right after the other.

I was kind of annoyed that all three were locked, and I wonder if they're ever really open to the public (from what I have read it seems as if at least the first one is open for a prayer ceremony around Memorial Day). Part of me is thankful that the gates/locks help to preserve the historical sites, but part of me just really loves wandering around cemeteries and looking at the headstones up close. A lot of the stones are worn to the point of being unreadable, some have Hebrew inscriptions and some are separated from the others by miniature fences of their own.

It's still hard for me to believe that I had no idea these three cemeteries even existed until a few weeks ago. I'm constantly surprised by how often I discover something new (to me at least) in this city, especially within the less-than-thirty square miles of Manhattan, alone. I like having a project or a list to complete, so the completionist in me totally loved the thrill of discovering a "set" of cemeteries, and being able to visit them all so easily. Of course just as soon as they had gone on my list I checked them off, but that's the fun of a city like New York — I'm sure there are plenty of other interesting places waiting to be (re)discovered right around the corner.

The Big Egg Hunt

Last week the Fabergé Big Egg Hunt started here in New York and it's kind of touristy, kind of for children and kind of totally my jam. There are more than 250 egg sculptures "hidden" around the city, each done by a different artist. Once ten people "crack" an egg (via the app) it appears on an egg map — you can only crack eggs by scanning the QR codes on their stands or via the app if you're within a certain distance.

The variety of the different eggs (and the fact that they're all a common shape) reminds me of the Cow Parade, which was going on when I first came to the city 14 years ago. 14-year-old me was kind of obsessed with those cows at the time (even if they seem super tacky now) but that extra dose of nostalgia makes me enjoy the egg hunt even more.

I'm not taking it super seriously because there's no way I'd ever be able to see all of them, but this weekend the weather was beautiful and any reason to walk around the city is a good one. So far I've "cracked" eggs at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Madison Ave. and the Upper East Side, Rockefeller Center, Little Italy, Soho, the Flatiron District, the East Village and Grand Central Terminal.

I've been trying to capture the eggs with some hint to their location, especially when they're in front of a recognizable (and eternally photogenic) landmark like the Empire State Building or the Flatiron. It shouldn't be a surprise that I like the New York-themed ones, and I have a few on my list of must-sees that I haven't found yet like the Statue of Liberty-esque one, the one made from street signs and the one covered in pennies.

To my delight, I discovered that I was close to Martha Stewart's egg on Saturday, but it was inside of an antique store that had closed by the time I arrived, so I couldn't get a good photo of it. Surprisingly, it wasn't my favorite of all the eggs I've seen — I like the ones that are little statues, like Humpty Dumpty or the Ralph Lauren Cowboy. My two favorites so far, however, have been the neon one from Stamberg Aferiat/Tsang + Vilanova and Chris Carnabuci's 3D Aphrodite (which is so perfect for the Met).

It's fun to happen upon a egg in the wild without specifically seeking it out, and unlike the cows (which seemed to be around forever) they're only on display for a few weeks before they're auctioned off for charity (current highest bid: $95,000 for the Jeff Koons gazing ball/seal walrus egg, on display in Rockefeller Plaza).

It's kind of fun to watch people go a little crazy when they find an egg (and I will never not enjoy watching people take photos with iPads) but I'm trying not to feel kind of embarrassed to be participating as a 28-year-old New Yorker because it is fun and silly and a little ridiculous — which, like I said, is totally my kind of thing.

NYBG: Orchid Show-Part Two

Even if you really hate orchids (is this actually anyone?) there are still things to see at the New York Botanical Garden Orchid Show that aren't orchids. I have been to the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory many times in the past year and I'm still finding pieces to swoon over in their permanent collections.

Everywhere you look there is something new and interesting and completely strange because plants are probably aliens and more often than not, kind of freak me out.

There are leaves with spots, leaves with stripes, furry, curly plants that look like monkeys' tails and flowers with colors so bright that they don't even look real. The desert collection is always full of weird and prickly things and I decided recently that if I were a type of plant, I would definitely be a cactus. I love the subtle gradations and colors in the succulents and cacti especially, and I always have to resist touching, squeezing or otherwise fondling even the most dangerous-looking ones.

Some of the plants are so perfect that they look plastic; others smell fantastic or are so strange looking that I can't possibly figure out their purpose in the grand scheme of things. I never skip the permanent collections when I go to the garden, since there is always something new to discover, and sometimes I end up enjoying them more than the main exhibits.

I really never considered myself a plant/flower person until I went to my first orchid show last year, but now I'm continually fascinated. Nature is a weird and wonderful thing, and even though I still may not be able to grow or nurture a plant to save my life, at least I can go visit hundreds (thousands?) of them whenever I start to yearn for something green (or pink, or purple, or orange...).

My Ninth Month as a New Yorker

I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record with these month recaps, but guess what? March was pretty awesome. In fact, my life is pretty much all-around awesome. I don't say that to brag or to sound like some sort of super human who is above sadness or failure or general unhappiness — I most definitely am not that. But, I'm also just really, really happy — in New York, at my new(ish) job, with my friends, with the adventures I've taken and the ones I have planned.

Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of my reflection as I'm walking to work in the morning and I realize that I've essentially become (or am very, very close to becoming) the person I've always wanted to be. It's a really odd realization actually, and sometimes it's downright scary to admit to yourself that you're happy — it can feel too fragile, too precarious, too intangible.

I have always had a hard time living in the present. I'm always looking back on what I've done or planning for the future. I still struggle to live in the moment, but I'm actively trying to force myself to be present, to be thankful and alert and to allow time in my schedule for aimless wandering. I made the choice more than ten months ago (and in some ways, long before that) to start actually living my life the way I had always only ever dreamed about. It's a strange feeling when your real life and your dream life start to align, but I don't want to miss one second of it.

A few highlights from my very happy March:

I walked by one of the few remaining free-standing phone booths  /  I creeped on Kathleen Kelly's apartment from You've Got Mail before returning to Cafe Lalo for my first "meal" after being sick  /  I took a Sunday walk across Central Park to the East Side, where I picked up Ladurée macarons (my first!) for an Oscar party  /  I met Grace at the Lexington Candy Shop for lunch (and a very necessary milkshake).

I fell in love with the skull-themed tombstones at Trinity Churchyard cemetery in lower Manhattan  /  I walked around downtown and spied on the new World Trade Center (but I didn't sneak to the top)  /  I explored the Lower East Side before taking a tour at the Tenement Museum /  Jim and I had our first (and second) knishes at Yonah Schimmel, in business since 1910/  Daylight Savings time allowed me to walk home through Central Park and finally catch beautiful sunsets again.

Mozart continued to be the sweetest animal on the planet  /  I took a warm, sunny bench nap in the de Blasio's backyard  /  I attended a lecture on urban cemeteries and then found a skull bead on my walk to work through Central Park the next morning  /  A brochure I designed was printed  /  I continued to discover amazing and different manhole covers — this one was across the street from my apartment  /  I explored Trinity Cemetery and Mausoleum, the only active cemetery left in Manhattan.

I found an awesome coffee shop in Hamilton Heights and had a life-changing almond cookie  /  I tricked Alisha into taking a windy adventure with me to the Little Red Lighthouse and signed up for Walk MS to raise money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society /  I walked past the most amazing apartment building every morning (a former cancer hospital)  /  I totally scored in the dollar section at the Strand  /  I visited the oldest tree in Manhattan  /  I discovered the prettiest manhole cover in the middle of a lawn in Central Park.

I tried to walk to work as much as possible and found out it was nearly 2.5 miles each way  /  Jim and a co-worker of mine took a candlelit ghost tour of the most haunted house in Manhattan, the Merchant's House  /  I crossed another stand-alone diner off of my list /  I spent a wonderful, wandering Saturday checking out flea markets, watching a bubble-maker in Washington Square Park and visited the smallest cemetery in Manhattan.

I got my fortune from a sidewalk Zoltar in the East Village  /  Trent, Jim and I went to the Orchid Show for a glimpse of spring  /  Jim, Katie and I were tourists for a night and ate at the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square (we made reservations)  /  My friend Melissa visited from Ohio and we walked the Brooklyn Bridge in the rain (her first time!) and ate pizza with ziti on top  /  I spent a lazy Sunday lounging with my favorite gray lady.

I'm going to go out on an optimistic limb and say that I think this winter is FINALLY coming to an end due to a forecast that has the temperature in the 50s for the foreseeable future (much appreciated). I already have a few trips planned for April — Texas to see my sister and then back to Ohio for a weekend — and my to-do, to-see, to-eat and to-read lists just keep getting longer and longer. I am totally loving my new camera and I can't wait to finally see (and photograph) my beloved cherry blossoms again. Even though it snowed yesterday, spring is so close I can taste it — and it tastes like a Cadbury Egg, which coincidentally, I am eating as I type this.

The Smallest Cemetery in New York

Two weekends ago I spent a wonderfully beautiful Saturday wandering around Manhattan. I've mentioned before that these ambling days usually turn out to be some of my favorites, and this was no exception. After starting off my day at the Square Diner, in TriBeCa, I made my way to Greenwich Village to see the smallest cemetery in Manhattan.

In case you haven't noticed, I've been on a cemetery kick lately, so it was only a matter of time before I made it to the tiny, triangular cemetery on West 11th Street. Unfortunately, the gates were closed, but it's such a tiny piece of land that you can pretty much see it all just from peeking through the fence.

The Congregation Shearith Israel was America's first Jewish Congregation and was founded in 1654. The 11th Street Cemetery is actually its second, and was active from 1805-1829. It was used "primarily to bury victims of communicable diseases like yellow fever and malaria, as well as for those Jews who passed away in New York but were not members of the Congregation [source]"

Over the years, the expansion of the neighborhood has forced many of the remains to be re-interred elsewhere, but a few worn tombstones remain. Most of the stones have been fastened to the brick wall surrounding the cemetery — notable residents include the painter Joshua Cantor (that's his obelisk in the middle) and Revolutionary War hero Ephraim Hart.

It's probably quite easy to walk right by the cemetery without even noticing it, which I'm sure I've actually done a few times in the past. I am very familiar with the area, and I have no idea why I didn't visit it sooner. A co-worker of mine said she took a ghost tour that started in this cemetery, so I'm wondering if I'll ever be able to get inside of the gates — I would love to take a closer look at some of the headstones and feel what it's like to be in such a tiny oasis in the middle of the city.

As I was walking away I noticed that I could get an overhead view of the entire cemetery by climbing a few steps up to the stoop of a neighboring apartment building. While I was standing there, I noticed a flyer posted on the door of the building advertising an available apartment: a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment (cemetery adjacent!) could be yours for the "low" price of nearly $7k/month, if you want to be neighbors with the quiet residents of the smallest cemetery in New York.

Friday Food: Square Diner

On Saturday, I checked another stand-alone diner off of my list when I went to the Square Diner in TriBeCa. Although I live uptown, the Square Diner is directly off the 1 train so it's a straight shot for me, and it's literally steps away from the subway station.

Like the Pearl Diner, the Square feels very out of place for its neighborhood, which makes it all the more remarkable that it's survived the popularity surge and celebrification of the surrounding areas (aka, all of New York). It wasn't very busy when I arrived at about 11 am, but it was full when I left an hour later. There is ample seating outside, which is another quirky and somewhat unexpected perk not usually associated with diners, and I'd love to go back when (if) the weather finally gets warmer.

The inside doesn't seem to have changed much in years (the outside definitely has), from the faded pink vinyl booths and bar stools to the wood panelling and stainless accents, it's classic diner décor through-and-through.

The thing I love most about the Square Diner is that the building is actually triangular, which makes for some awkward spaces where the sides narrow to a point. They even have a circular logo — in fact, the only thing square about the Square Diner is it's name.

I ordered a waffle, and while it was perfectly acceptable it wasn't anything spectacular. It's a little bit more pricey than other diners I've eaten at, but probably a lot cheaper than some neighborhood alternatives. The service was fast if not entirely friendly, so it was a pretty typical diner experience in an above-average space.

I would put the Square Diner above the Pearl Diner in décor and architecture (although the Pearl has a better sign), but below the Empire, which I have a feeling will remain on top. The food was comparable at both the Square and Pearl — I got waffles at both — and I'll have to go back to the Empire for breakfast if I want to see how it stacks up in the waffle department (my guess is fantastically).

I still have two more stand-alone diners in Manhattan on my list, and then I guess I'll have to start on the outer boroughs. There are definitely more stand-alone diners/dining cars left outside of Manhattan and I see a lot of waffles (and diner coffee) in my future (not mad about it).

NYBG: Orchid Show-Part One

On Sunday Trent, Jim and I went to the annual Orchid Show at the New York Botanical Gardens in the Bronx. The Orchid Show was my first experience at the NYBG last year (I went with my uncle) and having since been to other shows throughout the year —Kiku: Japanese Garden and the Holiday Train Show— I can say that the Orchid Show is definitely the best (not that the others are bad, but orchids are just awesome).

That being said, I think last year's show was better than the current show; it seemed as if there were less flowers this year, which I can't know for sure if there was, but something about it felt more sparse. Maybe it was just that a bit of the novelty has worn off since I recognized a lot of varieties from last year, which is totally understandable. It was still a great escape from the cold, never-ending winter, and we all got in free because I'm a NYBG member.

There is a seemingly infinite variety of orchids on display, from ones that smell like chocolate to ones that look like slippers or giraffes or ladies in ruffled skirts. Jim read that there are orchids you can cook with chicken and that blue is the rarest color. I found myself being especially drawn to the darker varieties — maybe the fact that they're rare makes them feel particularly special. There's always been something about a really dark flower that I love. Flowers are such a happy, beautiful thing that they aren't usually associated with darkness or dark, somber colors. It should come as no surprise that I go to a flower show and end up falling in love with the most morbid ones I can find.

I also really loved the green orchids, once again because green is not generally a flower color. It's actually quite odd to see a green flower and they almost didn't even look real.

The show was a great place to continue playing with my new camera and my 50mm lens was basically made to take a million close-up photos of weird-looking plants, so that's what I spent my time doing. The flowers are so beautiful on their own that I didn't have to try too hard to get a good photo and each one was so different that I couldn't help myself from trying to capture them all.

Becoming a member of the NYBG was one of the best investments I've made and I've gotten more than my money's worth just a few months into my year membership. Although it's currently fucking-freezing degrees outside (this is an exact measurement of temperature now) the orchid show was a wonderful taste of spring — even if we may never again get to experience actual spring in New York.

Friday Food: Yonah Schimmel Knish Bakery

After we toured the Tenement Museum, Jim and I continued to party like it was 1910 and headed over to the Yonah Schimmel Knish Bakery. Neither of us had ever had a knish before, and I wasn't even entirely clear on what they were. I'm still foggy on how you pronounce the word (ka-nish? nish?), but after eating one I can tell you exactly what is in them: not much. 

Their sign says "since 1910," but Wikipedia claims that Yonah Schimmel has been serving knishes from their Houston Street location since 1890. Either way, they've been there a very long time, and the inside of the bakery looks the part. They aren't too far from the Tenement Museum, and they're right down the street from Katz's Deli— if you wanted to do right but the Lower East Side, you could do worse than spending the day eating your way down Houston Street with a tour squeezed in somewhere between meals.

They have table service, so we sat down and ordered — Jim opted for the plain potato and I went rogue with the jalepeño/cheddar/potato knish special. Jim also ordered his first-ever egg cream, which, despite my warnings, he actually enjoyed. Not wanting to ruin the old New York theme of our meal, I ordered a Cherry Lime Rickey, which I've had before and always love. 

When the knishes came, we didn't have silverware at our table so we assumed you ate them with your hands. We were almost done eating before the waitress realized we didn't have cutlery (or maybe we just looked like animals) and apologized profusely. Apparently the knish is most definitely a knife-and-fork endeavor, but if you want to look like a totally clueless tourist than there's no better way than to attack your knish with using bare-hand method. 

As for how they tasted, well... They weren't bad, per se. But I don't think I'm going to actively be craving knishes anytime soon. Mine tasted exactly how you would expect dough filled with mashed potatoes and topped with cheddar to taste. It was a bit bland, very, very dense (it was crazy heavy, which I know since — did I mention? —we ate them with our hands) and extremely filling. We both agreed that if we were ever in need of a cheap ($3.50) and lasting meal that you can't go wrong with a knish. 

I think the cheddar and jalapeño was a welcome addition to the plain potato, and dipping it in mustard (there were bottles on every table, so we took the hint) helped as well. For dessert we were so full that we decided to split a cherry/cheese knish, which was delicious and more than enough for two. Jim likened the cheese knish crust to pizza crust, which is pretty accurate, and the filling was cream-cheesy and sweet but not overwhelmingly so. 

The interior of the bakery is a total time warp, right down to the old man sitting behind us reading the newspaper. If the entire place wasn't so obviously authentic I would have sworn that he was an actor paid to add faux charm, he was so perfectly old New York. 

I love all of their hand painted signage and mis-matched décor, and I appreciate their authenticity — they're not trying too hard (or trying at all) to be hip because they don't have to. They've managed to stay in business for more than 100 years and I hope they make it as least 100 more.