Triborough / RFK Bridge

Back in September, after a day spent exploring the always-weird Randall's Island, I made an impulse decision to walk across a portion of the Triborough Bridge (officially renamed the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge in 2008) into Queens. I happened upon a pedestrian ramp while I was dreading the long walk back into Manhattan, so it was by a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity that I ended up on one of the last city bridges that I had left on my to-walk list.

I knew from my exploration of Astoria Park that the Triborough Bridge would dump me out near a subway line in Queens but I didn't expect it to be such a harrowing—and at times truly terrifying—bridge walk. The ramp from Randall's Island was innocuous enough—enclosed with chain link fence and rising above and over the strange mix of industrial, athletic and mental health facilities that populate Randall's Island. However, once I was on the actual bridge it began to get a bit scary with the highway so close to the walkway, and cyclists speeding by me despite the many "walk your bicycle" warnings along the narrow pedestrian route.

Like the Manhattan Bridge, the Triborough has an additional chain link safety fence sitting on top of the original railing—that is, until the very moment that you stop being over land, and begin to cross over the Hell Gate section of the East River, at which point the safety fence completely disappears. I'm not normally afraid of heights but with speeding traffic to my right and a crazy drop into the choppy river to my left (not to mention a walkway with large gaps that would shake violently every time a truck would go by) it was a less-than-leisurely stroll into Queens.

Incidentally, the safety fence reappeared when I was once again over land, making it the least-effective fence I've ever encountered. The views of Randall's Island, the spooky Manhattan Psychiatric Center and the Hell Gate Bridge are pretty nice—even more so when I was safely back at ground level and finally reviewed my photos.

There are two other legs of the bridge still to walk (the portions spanning the Harlem River and the Bronx Kill) if I want to be a completionist about it, but I have my heart set on the George Washington as my next bridge walk—as soon as (or if) my Triborough trauma subsides.

Panorama of the City of New York

One of my reasons for taking my friend JMP to Flushing Meadows-Corona Park was to show her the Panorama of the City of New York, a remnant of the 1964-65 World's Fair. "Conceived as a celebration of the City’s municipal infrastructure by urban mastermind and World’s Fair President Robert Moses for the 1964 Fair, the Panorama was built by a team of more than 100 people working for the great architectural model makers Raymond Lester & Associates over the course of three years," according to the Queens Museum (where the Panorama is currently on permanent display).

It has been updated a few times since its debut, with the most recent complete overhaul taking place in 1992. Since then buildings have been updated or added sporadically and you can actually "adopt" a building for as little as $50 (who wants to buy me the Chrysler Building?).

Like the Unisphere, the Panorama still astounds me every time I see it. The Queens Museum just underwent an extensive renovation and it's a beautiful space but the exhibits are sparse—that being said, the Panorama is more than reason enough to make the trip out to Queens.

The first time I ever saw it, most of the museum was still closed for construction—in fact the only thing we saw during that visit was the Panorama and I definitely didn't leave disappointed.

There are walkways around the entire perimeter of the Panorama, tracing the route that the original indoor helicopter ride took during the World's Fair. The model is built to a scale of 1:1200 where one inch equals 100 feet—the Empire State Building is just 15 inches tall.

It is endlessly entertaining to stare at each borough, picking out landmarks like Yankee Stadium, the Flatiron Building, the original World Trade Towers and all of the museums, parks and bridges that I love so much—there are even little mini planes "taking off" and "landing" in a continuous loop at LaGuardia airport. It's also fun to try and find your own address—especially easy in Manhattan where you can count the street grid using major buildings as a guide.

Everything looks better in miniature and the city is no exception. The thing I like most about the Panorama, however, is that it really serves no discernible purpose. Although it was originally meant to be repurposed after the Fair as an urban planning tool, today the Panorama really serves no function past being incredibly awesome to behold. To use a phrase from one of my favorite tour guides ever, the Panorama of the City of New York is truly "just for fancy," making it one of my favorite attractions in all of New York.

Grace Episcopal Church Cemetery

A few weeks ago after my somewhat successful, somewhat failed attempt to visit Prospect Cemetery, I searched nearby and realized I was right by another cemetery. Luckily, Grace Episcopal Church Cemetery was much more accessible so I spent a bit of time walking the grounds. Burials in the churchyard date back to 1734, but the oldest tombstone I saw (or could read) was from 1740—still making it the oldest I can recall seeing in my exploration of New York cemeteries thus far.

The cemetery is small, but has a great collection of old brownstones (my favorite). There were some wonderful winged skulls, beautiful lichen-covered stones, and incredible script lettering. The winged cherubs are also wonderful, and although it makes me sad, I am continually fascinated by the decay process of crumbling stones.

I came across a plump squirrel who looked quite content hopping from stone to stone and I spent a great deal of time crunching through piles of freshly fallen leaves. Fall is the prime time to visit cemeteries, in my opinion, although that certainly doesn't stop me from visiting them all year round. I've only been to one cemetery when there was snow on the ground and it was really beautiful—I'll definitely have to make that a priority this winter.

Grace Church is in the middle of Jamaica Queens, which is a very busy commercial and residential area. In addition to being a major transportation hub, there are tons of restaurants, shops and other businesses bordering the cemetery on all sides. I doubt Elizabeth Ogden or any of the other permanent residents of the cemetery has much use for anything sold at the neighboring Hair Factory, but if you like to get your nails done and have your weave fixed after a leisurely stroll through a historic cemetery, Grace Episcopal Church cemetery has it all.

Unisphere At Night

I said a few weeks ago that I've been surprised to find myself enjoying the sun setting so early because it means I get to see some of my favorite places at night. I'm definitely not a night owl—my weekday bedtime is usually around 9 or 10pm—so the bulk of my exploring is done in the daylight.

Last weekend my friend JMP was in town and I thought it was time I showed her one of my favorite places in New York, Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. The park's World's Fair(s) pedigree has always fascinated me, even more so now that I just finished this book. Queens also happened to be the last of the five boroughs that JMP hadn't seen (I'm surprised she got to Staten Island before Queens, even if I was the one who took her there).

We walked around the park a while before heading into the Queens Museum to pay our respects to the Panorama, which is always amazing no matter how many times I see it. The Unisphere also always manages to awe me, no matter how many times I stand underneath it and crane my neck to take in all 12 stories of its curving steel.

I was immensely delighted to find that as the sun set, the Unisphere was lit up like a football stadium—the bright lights making the shiny steel sparkle in the most wonderful way against the dark night sky.

I've already seen the Unisphere in the snow, peeking out from behind the cherry blossoms and with its fountains turned on earlier this year. Pretty much the only iteration I haven't seen yet is with the fountains on and lit up at night, but I'll have to wait until its summer again to check that view off of my list.

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade: 2014

This was my third year in a row seeing the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in person. The first year we got to the parade way later than we should have, and left after realizing we couldn't really see much.

Last year, it was 17 degrees but felt even colder, with 40+ mph winds and balloons so low they were almost dragging on the ground. This year it was much milder, and although we didn't get front row spots like last year, it was a much more pleasant experience.

The balloons flew much higher this year and we were in the middle of a block so we pretty much had an unobstructed view. Of course we were standing right next to the world's loudest woman, who was made even more obnoxious by the large pink balloon she tied to her wrist. Every time the woman behind me would take a photo I would hear her grumble, "Oh, I got a good one of Spiderman...and a pink balloon."

There were a few repeats from last year—Hello Kitty, Spiderman, Snoopy, Spongebob—and some new balloons made their parade debut—Paddington Bear, Thomas the Tank Engine and a new Pikachu. As usual my favorite balloons and floats are the classic Macy icons—stars, elves, candy cane and of course Tom the Turkey.

There was the usual handful of random celebrities, including Kiss, Meghan Trainor, Idina Menzel (née Adele Dazeem), a Jonas brother (don't ask me which one), the new Annie (don't make me try to spell her name correctly), Renee Fleming and Cicely Tyson. Of course none of these were as exciting as seeing Richard Simmons enthusiastically riding a turtle last year, but Richard and I will always have 2013.

This was the first year I actually stayed for the entire parade, and I finally got to see Santa usher in the Christmas season. Just as the parade began to transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas-themed balloons, it started to snow lightly which was pretty perfect.

A lot of people I talk to seem horrified by the idea of getting up so early or by the prospect of crowds and even I admit that when my alarm went off at 4:30 am, I was a bit grumpy about it. But as soon as the parade starts, as soon as Tom the Turkey bats his huge turkey eyelashes, I can't be anything but incredibly grateful that I get to be in the center of it all, and that it's just a few subway stops away.

Holiday Windows 2014: Bergdorf Goodman

Last year I blogged about the holiday window displays and declared Bergdorf Goodman the clear winner. Without having seen any of the other big displays this year except Bergdorf's, I can say with certainty that they will remain undefeated for another year. That being said, I do think that last year's theme "Holiday's On Ice" was more interesting than this years "Arts" theme, but some of the windows this year are just unbelievable.

My two favorites were the Architecture and Literature windows, followed closely by Theater and Music. Even the mini window Cartography display was kind of mind-blowing with its intricate paper cutouts and vintage map graphics.

Speaking of paper cutouts, the Architecture window was full of them, from the 3-D buildings to the fur and mane of the lion, to the feathers of the bird—some poor Bergdorf's intern must have bloody claws for hands after all of the insane handwork it must have taken to create this year's windows. The Literature window is full of embroidery—embroidered portraits, huge fabric books and typewriter, busts of famous authors, and an owl and a dog made entirely from yarn.

The men's windows are much more subdued and I don't know how I feel about them getting the "science" theme (the feminist in me wants you to know that women can be smart and science-y too!), but some of the details were pretty charming. It's hard not to love a squirrel in a space helmet or a chemistry window that revolves around crafting the perfect fragrance, but its the ladies that really steal the show.

Fall Foliage

Although it currently feels like the arctic here in the city, and western New York is buried under six feet of snow (I'm so jealous) I wanted to share a few of the photos I've taken recently of the beautiful fall foliage. I always say that I love all the seasons equally, but if I was forced to pick a favorite it would be fall, not least because of the amazing colors that pop up everywhere.

Every morning I ride a bus past the northern edge of Central Park, and the colors there have been wonderful. I've been trying to get to all of my favorite spots before the leaves fall completely. The leaves turn a lot later in the heart of the city than they do even a few miles out, so a lot of the trees are still not at their peak or just now starting to change colors.

A few weekends ago I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens,—one of my favorite places in the city—and last weekend I went deeper into the North Woods of Central Park for some last minute leaf gawking. The North Woods is the most rustic place in the park, and the part that makes me feel most like I'm back hiking in the Metroparks of Northeast Ohio.

I very rarely miss Ohio, but fall is pretty spectacular there. Although, I will say that the parks here have definitely exceeded my expectations in regards to all of the nature I thought I might miss when I moved to the city—and I don't have to drive miles (or at all) to see them.

At one point I came across a small pond and the reflection of the trees in the rippling water looked exactly like an Impressionist painting. Of course I'm very much looking forward to snow (hopefully piles, and piles) but every year fall feels a bit too fleeting.

Canstruction

On Sunday I went to see some of the entries in this year's Canstruction contest. Canstruction is a national charity that hosts competitions with sculptures that are built entirely out of canned goods. After the entries are exhibited, all of the canned goods are donated to local hunger relief organizations. There are a few places around the city where the sculptures are displayed, but I only went to Brookfield Place in lower Manhattan. There were more sculptures than I had anticipated and it was a fun way to spend a lazy, chilly Sunday afternoon.

The first thing I noticed about the sculptures were that an awful lot of teams used sardines—I really hope New York families in need like canned sardines, because they're about to get thousands and thousands of them. Some of the sculptures were a little abstract, and some were definitely better than others. A few of them seemed to defy the laws of physics all together, or at least tried to—a Derek Jeter-themed one had suffered a complete collapse during construction and had to be reassembled into something more feasible (with quite a few of the cans badly dented).

The dog and owl were cute, the Food Banksy was clever but could have been better (and was impossible to photograph well) and the ones with "hidden" messages were fun to decipher. Of course I loved the New York-themed ones like the apple and the subway station, and I might have squealed with delight when I rounded the corner and saw a tombstone made entirely from cans.

My favorite, however, was definitely the Sta"tuna" of Liberty—Lady Liberty's torch made from Trader Joe's tuna cans—which won a ribbon for "Best Use of Labels" but should have won all-around first place because I will be laughing at that name for a long time.

Brooklyn Bridge at Sunset

On Saturday I thought it would be nice to finally walk the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset. One of the (only) good things about the sun setting so early now is that I get to see some really beautiful skies and they happen while I'm still out exploring. I've been on the bridge in all sorts of weather and seasons, but never at sunset (or sunrise). Saturday was one of the coldest bridge walks I've taken but I think my body is just not ready to accept that light-jacket-fall weather is really over.

The sunset was beautiful as always but I soon discovered that the bridge isn't really in a position that lines up well with the pretty skies. That isn't to say I had a bad time, however, because a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge never disappoints.

As it started to get dark I realized that I might be able to take some long exposure photos of the traffic lights below, so I spent most of my time playing with camera settings and trying to get a good shot. I'm pretty new to the whole "nice" camera thing, and while I shoot on manual I still feel like I have so much to learn. I also don't have a tripod or a remote, but I'm pretty happy with my first attempt at long exposures.

A lot of them were blurry because I had to set my camera on the wobbly bridge ledge, but it was super rewarding when I would manage to get a good shot. I stayed on the bridge shooting from different angles and different exposures until I felt like my fingers were going to snap off from the cold.

I am definitely in the market for a tripod now and I can't wait to go back (and to other bridges!) and hone my skills. I maintain that there is no better way to spend a few hours in New York than walking the Brooklyn Bridge—even if it is touristy and crowded—it will always be magic to me.

Prospect Cemetery

Last weekend I was in the mood to visit a cemetery, so I decided to visit Prospect Cemetery in Queens. It had been on my list ever since I heard it mentioned at a lecture I attended last summer about urban cemeteries (I was the only one in attendance under the age of 85).

Located in Jamaica, Queens, Prospect Cemetery was established in 1660, making it one of the few remaining colonial cemeteries in the city. It was designated a landmark in 1977, and The City Landmark Commission stated it was the oldest cemetery in New York. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2002 and today it sits in the middle of the York College-CUNY campus.

I couldn't find much information about actually visiting the cemetery, but I decided to take my chances. Turns out, Prospect Cemetery is not very easy to get close to and it's definitely not open to the public—the cemetery association's website does have tours listed but the dates haven't been updated since 2012.

After exhausting all other options, I walked into a York College building (everything was surrounded by fences and locked gates) which led to the following exchange with a very confused security guard: Me: "How do you get to the cemetery?" Guard: "WHO ARE YOU." Me: "I was just interested in... seeing the cemetery?" Guard: "... You can't go inside of it." Me: "Well, can I just, like, go look at it?" Guard: *points to the door*

Through the door was a courtyard fenced in on all sides, one of which butted up to the cemetery. I was annoyed that I didn't have an easier time accessing the cemetery, but I was also kind of proud of myself for actually having the courage to speak to an actual human, which—as awkward as it was—paid off.

I still couldn't get inside of the actual cemetery grounds, but it is small enough that I could see quite a lot of it from just walking the perimeter. Also on the grounds is the Chapel of the Sisters, built in 1857 by Nicholas Ludlum to honor his three deceased daughters. Apparently the cemetery had been in really bad condition for a long time until preservation efforts began in the early 2000s, but aside from some overgrown grass and a few broken stones it was in no worse shape that any other city cemetery I've seen.

Although I wasn't able to see the majority of the headstones up close, I did see a stone that just said "babies," which is in close competition for the creepiest thing I've ever had the pleasure/displeasure of seeing in a cemetery.

Roosevelt Island: Smallpox Hospital Ruin

I've mentioned the smallpox hospital ruin on Roosevelt Island before, but I saw it again this weekend and realized that it definitely deserved its own post. Designed by James Renwick and opened in 1856, the hospital is currently the only ruin within city limits to have been designated a New York City Landmark (it's also on the National Register of Historic Places).

It definitely is a ruin—portions of the exterior walls have collapsed over the years and there is not much interior to speak of (trees appear to be growing inside), but there is enough of the original Gothic Revival structure to make a huge impact. There is ivy climbing over the crumbling walls and when I went on Sunday I was pleased to discover that it had turned bright red, upping the creep factor even more. There is a fence around the entire ruin, and stabilizing structures throughout, but I love that something like this still exists in any form.

Roosevelt Island—formerly known as Blackwell's Island or Welfare Island—once housed several hospitals, a prison and the New York City Lunatic Asylum (now luxury condos, groan) and was basically a receptacle for all of the city's undesirables. Today, there are still a few medical facilities but it is mostly residential, with a few city staples like a Starbucks, a pizza place and a Duane Reade.

There have been plans to further stabilize the Smallpox Hospital and open it to the public, which would be amazing, but from the looks of things that's still a long way off. In the back of the hospital, there are pallets of organized and numbered pieces—it always fascinates me how anyone begins to make sense of a building that has been reduced (at least in some parts) to rubble.

There is a little bit of graffiti on the walls, which normally I would be annoyed with, but it's kind of hard to be mad at the cute little ghosts that have been there since I first visited (also, the "RIP Smallpox Victims" is wonderful). I actually love this ruin so much that I decided to stay on Roosevelt Island long enough for the sun to set so I could see the Smallpox Hospital lit up and I was not only rewarded with a beautiful sunset but the ruin was just as creepy as I imagined it would be in the dark.

Death Becomes Her

On Friday my friend, Francesca, and I did what all young women dream of doing on a Friday night— we went to the Death Becomes Her exhibit of mourning attire at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute (No? That's just us? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

The opening day of the exhibit (in October) had been marked on my calendar for months—an exhibit dedicated to mourning, named after one of my very favorite Meryl movies—obviously. Fortunately, it lived up to my high expectations and even more fortunately, photographs (no flash, of course) are allowed.

The exhibit features about thirty examples of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century mourning ensembles, mostly for women, although there were two men's outfits and one child's. I've read everything I can get my hands on about mourning practices and I've seen a few examples of mourning attire in some of the house tours I've taken, but this was certainly the biggest (and best) collection I've ever seen. Of course, since it's housed in the Anna Wintour Costume Institute, the explanation placards skew a bit more toward the fashion side of things, but that was to be expected.

The whole concept of mourning attire (and memorial art, hair jewelry, post-mortem photography, etc.) is so fascinating to me and seems so distant from how our society deals with its dead today. The exhibit was small, but I loved the simple white mannequins (with my dream white hair) and haunting music that played throughout. I could have done without the projected quotes, but this is 2014 so I know there had to be some sort of multimedia element. Speaking of 2014, there's also a hashtag (#DeathBecomesHer), which is currently filled with shots of this exhibit mixed with screencaps of Meryl Streep as Madeline Ashton, making it my very favorite hashtag of all time.

There's even a tiny gift shop in the corner, with items ranging from pretty (jewelry, notecards) to pretty gross (the illustrated book of diseases). I couldn't resist buying a postcard, because it's not every day that an exhibit likes this comes along—one that is so in line with all of my current interests that I can hardly believe my luck.

A Thousand Korean Chrysanthemums (That I Thought Were Daisies)

I was riding the bus down Fifth Avenue to work last week when I happened to glance up from my book as we were passing the Conservatory Garden in Central Park. I couldn't see much, but I saw glimpses of color and made a note to come back during my lunch break. I had been to the garden a few weeks back and marveled at the beautiful fall flowers in bloom, but this looked like something new.

I was completely blown away when I later entered the garden to find the most incredible array of Korean chrysanthemums I had ever seen. I'm not exaggerating when I say there were thousands and thousands of them (Lorelai Gilmore would have approved) in more colors than I even knew existed.

They were spilling over onto the walkways, pushing up through the cracks in the benches and tumbling over one another in every which way. It was impossible to be grumpy sitting on a bench surrounded by so many colorful flowers and I'm still having a hard time believing that something so beautiful can still exist this late into the season. The Conservatory Garden has stunned me breathless before with its tulips (first in 2012 and then again this year but I have to say that the Korean chrysanthemums might have surpassed them as the best New York garden display I've seen yet.

EDIT: Apparently these are actually Korean chrysanthemums, and not daisies (as I originally wrote), which was pointed out to me by someone on Instagram who is clearly much smarter than me. This makes much more sense, seasonally, and also negates my Gilmore Girls reference but I'm never mad when I get to reference GG, even if it's a mistake. It should also be noted that I know absolutely nothing about plants, which is probably obvious by now.

The Great Jack 'O Lantern Blaze

Last year was my first time going to the Great Jack O' Lantern Blaze at Van Cortlandt Manor near Tarrytown/Sleepy Hollow, NY. I loved it so much that a few months ago we bought tickets and planned a return trip. After touring Lyndhurst in the morning, we hung around Sleepy Hollow until it was time to go to the Blaze—tickets really do sell fast, and 9:30pm was the only time slot available even a few months in advance.

It turned out to be a great time to go—we had just enough time to see everything before it closed at 11pm and there were hardly any children (aka ruiners of all events). Since I knew what to expect this year it might have been slightly less impressive than my first time, but it was still totally worth the price of admission.

Although there were some repeats, there was still a lot of brand new things to see, including a few Washington Irving displays (the Headless Horseman throwing his pumpkin head was great) and a fun 10th birthday cake to celebrate the Blaze's tenth year.

I'm sad that October is coming to an end, but I can't say that I didn't pack a ton of fall delights into the past 31 days. It's definitely my favorite month, and now that it's over I'll just go back to being that creepy coworker who wears skull socks and talks about cemeteries all year long.

Lyndhurst

On Saturday three of my friends and I went to Sleepy Hollow/Tarrytown for a day filled with fall delights. We had gone last year for the first time, and loved it so we knew we'd be back. One thing we didn't do last year was tour Lyndhurst, "one of America’s finest Gothic Revival mansions," so it was our first stop this year.

Lyndhurst was designed in 1838 by Alexander Jackson Davis and had five different owners from three different prominent families before it became part of the National Historic Trust for Preservation in 1961. The mansion is furnished with original furniture/décor from all five owners so the inside is just as interesting and historic as the outside.

Of course since it's October, the mansion was also decorated for Halloween, which I would usually be annoyed about if it didn't naturally fit so well with the gothic architecture and if I didn't love Halloween as much as I do.

There were tombstones out front, ghouls in the trees and spiderwebs on everything. They even had a few pieces of mourning wear on display, and one very awesome example of Victorian memorial hair art (when asked if anyone knew what it was made from, I was the only one to very enthusiastically—and totally embarrassingly—yell out, "HAIR!"). 

The grounds of the estate are worth a visit alone. Before we even took the house tour we saw the bones of the nation's first steel-framed conservatory, a shingle-style, stand-alone bowling alley, Jay Gould's footbridge—over the railroad tracks and down to the river—that he used to board his boat, a rose garden, a children's playhouse bigger than most New York studio apartments and sweeping views of the Hudson river.

Lyndhurst was also used for the filming of two Dark Shadows movies in the '70s, which I have never seen but I will definitely be tracking down soon. I dream of one day owning a real-life haunted mansion that I can fill with taxidermy and curiosities and clones of Mozart (my cat)—I wouldn't mind having my own bowling alley either.

Fall Flowers

I've said more than once that I was never a big flower person until I moved to New York. You might not think that flowers and the city necessarily go hand-in-hand, but everywhere you look there are beautiful blooms to match every season. I've really been noticing and loving the transition from summer to fall in the gardens around the city, particularly the Conservatory Garden in Central Park and the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx.

While summer flowers are bright and cheery, I definitely prefer the deeper shades and more interesting mixes that start popping up when the weather turns chilly. I just can't get enough of the dark reds, bright purples and of course oranges, mixed with neon greens, grays and deep, dark purples. I also love the weirder looking plants—the things with spikes and veins and spots and fuzz.

It seems like suddenly every sidewalk and stoop is overflowing with the most beautiful mums, and the NYBG has an entire show devoted to the weird and wonderful things people can make them do. I went to the Kiku: The Art of the Japanese Garden Show this year and last year, and I am continually amazed at the variety and complexity of nature. Hundreds of blooms growing from a single stem, intricately layered petals that go on for days, honeycomb-like centers and the most breathtaking color gradations—just a few more reasons why fall is the fucking best.

Staten Island: Moravian Cemetery

One of JMP's requirements when she was in town was that we explore a cemetery. OH OK, IF WE MUST I said, and got to work trying to find a suitable cemetery that I hadn't been to before. She also wanted to ride the Staten Island Ferry, so I started my search in New York's most overlooked borough. I'd been to Staten Island a few times to explore Sailor's Snug Harbor, but never to a cemetery (unless you count Snug Harbor's tombstone-less potter's field).

Moravian Cemetery, the largest on Staten Island, was the ultimate winner. It's 274 years old, "often heralded as New York's most beautiful memorial site," and fairly close to the Grant City stop on the SIR. Moravian ended up completely exceeding all of my expectations and definitely shot straight to the top of my favorites list.

We spent about four hours walking through almost the entire cemetery and more than once I found myself saying "this cemetery has everything!" They had clean, convenient bathrooms when we needed them most, some of the oldest tombstones I've seen in the city (1770s), fascinating new (and incredibly gaudy) mausoleums and the largest concentration of ivy-covered tombstones I've ever seen in one place. I love, love, love a good ivy-covered anything but it adds a creep-factor to tombstones and cemeteries that is almost too much for me to handle.

A section of the cemetery houses the Vanderbilt family mausoleum, constructed by Cornelius Vanderbilt and landscaped by Frederick Law Olmstead. Unfortunately the Vanderbilt section is private—I was hoping that we could at least sneak a peek at the (supposedly haunted) mausoleum, but the area is heavily wooded and guarded by a barbed-wire fence. They do offer tours that often include the Vanderbilt section so I'll definitely be coming back to test out that haunted theory for myself.

Moravian has an amazing receiving tomb (beautifully labeled as such), a hillside mausoleum with incredible views of the water, the only headstone I've ever seen with the word "bones" on it, and some of the most beautiful fall foliage I've seen all year. East coast Octobers were positively made for afternoon cemetery strolls, and the day we went was perfect fall weather—sunny, yet chilly at the same time.

Moravian also gets the distinction of having the single most disturbing gravesite I've stumbled upon in my cemetery travels thus far. JMP pointed it out to me, and I don't think I'll ever be able to forget about five-year-old Harry B. Cairns—or stop wondering how he drowned, why someone felt the need to permanently etch that grisly fact on his headstone, why the 80-year-old grave looks so fresh, or who left that super creepy and tattered fairy doll behind.

And because I don't wish to leave you on that distressing note, I give you some of the other headstones that we came across at Moravian (although, unfortunately, not right next to each other):

Coney Island: October

This weekend my friend JMP was in town from Ohio. While brainstorming potential adventures, I discovered that she'd never been to Coney Island. I confirmed that the parks were still open and when I read that they would be decorated for Halloween I knew we had to go. I've lost count of how many times I've been to Coney Island, but it's just so endlessly photogenic that I find so many new and interesting things every time I go.

The biggest difference between this trip and all the others is that it's no longer summer, so Coney Island wasn't crowded. Not as desolate as I kind of expected, but a lot of the rides were sitting empty. Since the worst part about most places to me is the other people, I loved being able to get up close to the rides without having snotty kids run into my photos.

All the people that were there were in the festively-decorated Luna Park, leaving Deno's Wonder Wheel Park looking like a ghost town in comparison. Some of the rides are pretty terrifying (why does Donald Duck have Satan eyes?) but I'll always prefer the weird and old to the new and bland.

I'm not really a ride person but I did make an exception for the Spook-a-Rama, one of the few remaining "dark rides" left in the country. We paid $7 for about 45 seconds of creepy skeletons, gnarly creatures and screaming ghosts. I wish it was longer, but as with most relics of a past time—and Coney Island in general—I'm just grateful that it still exists at all.