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Apr 13, 2026

NYBG: ORCHID SHOW 2026

Apr 13, 2026

The most fantastic thing about the New York Botanical Garden’s annual Orchid Show is the orchids themselves

Apr 13, 2026

Alexandra 5/28/18 Alexandra 5/28/18

Corinth National Cemetery

Established in 1866, Corinth National Cemetery is located in the northeast corner of Mississippi. The two-acre cemetery sits on the site of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. Two battles —in the spring and fall of 1862—occurred in Corinth, which was located at the junction of two major rail lines.

In May, Confederate troops—suffering from poor water supplies, typhoid and dysentery—secretly retreated and Union troops took over the abandoned town. In October, 20,000 Confederate troops returned to Corinth. The ensuing battle resulted in 2,360 Union and 4,800 Confederate casualties. In the end the Union remained in control of the town, and used it as a base for additional conflicts in Mississippi, Alabama and Tennessee.

A national cemetery was established to bury the Union dead and by 1870, the cemetery contained 5,688 interments, including almost 4,000 unknown soldiers. Three Confederate soldiers—one unknown and two known—are also buried in the cemetery. Some of the unknown dead's graves are marked with numbers, while others have stones that simply say "Unknown U.S. Soldier."

In order to be eligible for burial in a national cemetery, the deceased must have been a member of the armed forces and have met a minimum active duty service requirement. A veteran's spouse and children may be eligible, even if they predecease the veteran. In some cases, the spouse's name is placed on the back of the headstone.

National cemeteries lack the variety and interesting design details that I usually seek out in cemeteries, but they're sobering places to visit. It's hard to look at row after row of identical white stones—most representing a life taken in battle—and not wonder if the price we pay for near-constant war is really worth it.

Corinth National Cemetery
1551 Horton Street
Corinth, MS 38834
Open daily, 8am-sunset

Alexandra 5/25/18 Alexandra 5/25/18

Happy Friday!

Things that happened recently:

I didn't watch the Royal wedding (lol), but I'm more obsessed with Meghan Markle every day—here's a video of an adorably woke 11-year-old Meghan fighting against the patriarchy one dishwashing soap commercial at a time.

I don't know if this is the most efficient use of government funds, but the USPS is issuing its first-ever scratch-and-sniff stamps this summer. The popsicles are cute, but it's hard to beat these Mister Rogers stamps that are currently available. Speaking of the USPS, I ordered these months ago and never received them—time to order again!

In a bit of personal news, I start a new job at Penguin Random House on Tuesday—I'll be a Senior Designer in their creative services and marketing department. I've been in a similar role at 92Y for four-and-a-half years and I'll miss my coworkers (and all those Jewish holidays!) but I'm excited for a change and all those free books (they've already sent me a few to get started, including this book which has been on my to-read list forever).

Things to do in New York this week:

Coney Island is getting a new ride (named after an old one) when the Astrotower opens this Saturday in Luna Park.

Big Gay Ice Cream stores in New York and Philly have brought back their weird-but-intriguing Cheetos-flavored soft serve through this weekend and I kind of need to try it.

Wednesday is the first Manhattanhenge of the season.

Things that I've discovered recently:

Have you watched Evil Genius on Netflix? I finished it last weekend and there's no arguing that it's a fascinating (true!) story but I do feel conflicted about how they covered Majorie Diehl-Armstrong's very obvious mental illness.

I finished this book this week and it has made me even more interested in the still-strange Roosevelt Island. I also regret that I never got to explore the Goldwater Hospital (that mortuary sign!) before it was demolished in 2015.

I recently started following this Instagram account and it inspired me to start re-watching episodes of Sex and the City only to discover that—20 years after it started!—it hasn't aged well.

I've had a gross head cold since Sunday and I'm being dramatic about it but there's almost nothing I hate more than a stuffy nose (ughhhhhh). Saturday is Francesca's birthday (and my dad's—happy birthday dad!) and we'll be celebrating her in the park if the weather cooperates. I don't have any grand plans other than that, so I'm happy to rest up and try to kick this cold to the curb before I start my new job on Tuesday. If you have any secret remedies for unclogging my face, let me know and have a great weekend!

Alexandra 5/24/18 Alexandra 5/24/18

Beale Street

My dad and I couldn't visit Memphis without checking out Beale Street. Most cities have streets or districts that everyone has heard of—Bourbon Street, Times Square, Hollywood Blvd—and they're often crowded and touristy precisely because they're so well known. Beale Street is no exception, and it reminded me of a smaller (and slightly less stinky) Bourbon Street with tons of neon signs, bars and live music.

Beale Street was established in 1841 (originally called Beale Avenue) and it runs 1.8 miles from the Mississippi River to East Street in downtown Memphis, Tennessee. In the late 1800s many black traveling musicians flocked to Beale Street and in 1890 the Great Opera House was built (now known as the Orpheum). The street was filled with black-owned businesses, and it was home to the anti-segregationist paper Free Speech, co-owned and edited by NAACP co-founder Ida B. Wells.

Beale Street simultaneously claims to be the "Official Home of the Blues," "America’s Most Iconic Street" and "Tennessee’s Top Tourism Attraction" (Graceland might try to argue that last one). The 1916 song "Beale Street Blues" precipitated the name change from avenue to Beale Street—but it was Marc Cohn's 1990 song "Walking in Memphis" that kept running through my head for our entire trip (When I was walking in Memphis / I was walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale). Louis Armstrong, Muddy Waters, Albert King, Memphis Minnie and B. B. King all played on Beale Street, developing a style eventually known as Memphis Blues.

By the 1960s—especially after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at the nearby Lorraine Motel—Memphis was a ghost town and many of the businesses on Beale had closed. This decline is more obvious in some parts of town than others—Beale Street was lively while we were there, but it's still a long way from what I imagine it looked like in its heyday.

Alexandra 5/22/18 Alexandra 5/22/18

Coon Dog Cemetery

When my dad and I were in Tupelo, Mississippi, I casually mentioned that I had found a coon dog cemetery about 45 minutes away, just across the state line into Alabama. My dad adopted Leo, a Blue Tick Coon Hound, a few years ago and I love pet cemeteries so it wasn't too much of a stretch. Luckily, he was as enthusiastic as I was, and the next morning we headed to Alabama (this trip was my first time in both MS and AL).

The Key Underwood Coon Dog Memorial graveyard is located, appropriately, on Coon Dog Cemetery Road in the northwest corner of Alabama. It was established in 1937 and claims to be the only cemetery of its kind in the world (probably true). You can still pay your respects to the cemeteries first resident, Troop, Key Underwood's faithful hunting companion for more than 15 years.

Today more than 300 dogs are buried in the cemetery, and there are strict qualifications for potential candidates: "The owner must claim their pet is an authentic coon dog, a witness must declare the deceased is a coon dog and a member of the Key Underwood Coon Dog Memorial Graveyard must be allowed to view the coonhound and declare it as such."

When asked why the cemetery is so strict and exclusive, Underwood responded, "You must not know much about coon hunters and their dogs, if you think we would contaminate this burial place with poodles and lap dogs."

The coon dog cemetery is in a very rural, wooded area but it is very well-maintained. Janice M. Williams, aka the Coon Dog Lady, has been taking care of the grounds since 2009, making sure there are (fake) flowers on every grave. We paid our respects to Troop, Lead, Rock, Track, Doctor Doom, Ranger, Blue, Smokey, Bozo, Screamin Hanna, Coats, George, Squeak, Duke, Old Tip, Queen, Sue Walker, Hank, Black Ranger, Gypsy, Ruff Redbone, Red, Skid, Easy Going Sam and others.

Like other pet cemeteries I've visited, the epitaphs are both heartwarming and heartbreaking. Most of the markers feel handmade and there are traditional stones as well as markers made from concrete, wood and metal. A lot of dog show champions are buried here and their markers bear a long list of initials indicating their prestigious titles.

The coon dog cemetery ended up being the perfect father-daughter trip destination and judging by the guest book, we aren't alone in our offbeat interests. The dogs themselves come from all over the country, and when we arrived on a Monday afternoon there had already been ten other visitors from Texas, Florida, Montana, Washington and California.

Coon Dog Cemetery
4945 Coon Dog Cemetery Road
Cherokee, AL 35616

Alexandra 5/21/18 Alexandra 5/21/18

My Tiny Studio Apartment

Last August I moved into my first-ever studio apartment. I had never lived alone—unless you count a single dorm at college—and I couldn't exactly afford it but I've never once regretted the move. My mom lives one floor above me and I love the neighborhood. My friend Alisha actually used to live in this studio and I always envied her—I never dreamed that I would have my chance to move in a few years later.

This was my fourth apartment in five years of living in New York, and I don't waste time when it comes to decorating my spaces (or subscribe to anything remotely resembling "minimalism"). A month after I moved in, I had a guy over from Con-Ed to check for gas leaks (it's a long story) and he asked how long I had been here—I told him a month, and he looked around and said "wow, it looks like you've been here for years" (I chose to take this as a compliment and not a comment that I'm on the on ramp to HoarderVille).

This apartment is on the first floor of a brownstone in Harlem, in what used to be the parlor. There's one huge window in the front and a rectangular living space followed by a tiny kitchen and bathroom in the back. There are huge double doors—only one of which opens—high ceilings and beautiful decorative trim. There's a ledge in the middle that used to have a mirror above it, but it's since been replaced with drywall. I was originally annoyed by the ledge since it limits my furniture placement options, but that was obviously silly since I managed to fill it up immediately.

The kitchen is comically tiny and I lost one lower cabinet to Mozart's litter box, but I don't cook elaborate meals so it works for me. I joke that I basically have an Easy Bake oven but that's not far from the truth. My fridge doesn't exactly keep things cold but it does have giant googly eyes and is the perfect place to hold my Halloween costume from last year. Speaking of faces, you might notice them everywhere—anything is more whimsical and endearing when it has eyes.

When I moved into this space, I made a mental note that I would only buy things that bring me joy, and I've slowly been replacing items to make this a reality—I recently traded a boring stick lamp for a dinosaur lamp and I have zero regrets since adopting this strategy.

I have a tiny stall shower which is probably my least favorite part of the apartment, but I think I'm getting used to it—taking a shower in David's normal-sized bathroom now feels like the ultimate luxury. There's no overhead fan so it gets a bit steamy, but I bought a tiny desk fan that helps keep the air circulating. The bathroom is the best place to display my collection of vintage enamelware medical trays, and it's the only place where there's room for Mozart's automatic feeder.

You might notice that I don't have a closet, but I do have a curiosity cabinet. I keep most of my clothes in the dresser and I have three plastic tubs under my bed for sweaters. I could fit a wardrobe near the dresser if I didn't display my curiosity collection but obviously my priorities differ slightly from most women my age.

I just bought LED lights for my cabinet and they make such a difference—every time my mom visits to see a new acquisition, she reminds me that I should be charging admission to my own personal Mütter Museum. Other utilitarian things with a high dose of whimsy include a vintage bedside glasses holder from an optometrist's office, a South of the Border ashtray that holds memory cards and lip balm, and a shark cup that doubles as a holder for my remotes.

My bookcase is organized by color—I once heard this called the "hipster decimal system"—and it's always filled to capacity because living in a tiny space hasn't helped me curb my bargain book-buying habit. The bottom shelf holds some of my shoes, and the skinny shelf next to the bookcase holds my socks (in a bin out of reach from Mozart, who loves to play with them), scarves, blankets and a bin with more shoes. I am the Queen of using Command hooks to hold bags, umbrellas, oven mitts, jackets and hand towels—the rest of my jackets are hanging behind the bathroom door, which is almost never closed.

I don't know the square footage of this apartment and I call it my closet, but really it's all the space I need. I've managed to fit everything I need in the available space like puzzle pieces—most of the furniture is IKEA or curb finds. I'm sure I won't live here forever, but I did sign a two-year lease so I'm excited to not have to move again this year. The apartment isn't perfect but having a living space all to myself has been nothing short of life-changing.

Alexandra 5/18/18 Alexandra 5/18/18

Happy Friday!

Illustration by Lindsey Frances | Prints available here

Things that happened recently:

Sales of instant print cameras keep climbing while sales of digital cameras are declining. I have one of these and I really should use it more—having physical prints feels so special and the film is more affordable than the film for original Polaroid cameras.

I'm sure by now you've listened to this audio clip—are you team yanny or team laurel? Originally all I could hear was yanny but the closer I listened the more I heard both at the same time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is an interesting article about the evolving nature of friendships in the smartphone age. I was particularly struck by the idea of “Dunbar’s number”, which says that everyone knows an average of 150 people who might come to their wedding or funeral. "50 of these make the next cut to buddies, about 15 are good friends, around five confidants form our circle of trust, and finally we have an average of 1.5 people we deem our closest relationships."

Things to do in New York this weekend:

Are you going to watch the Royal wedding tomorrow? I couldn't sleep one night this week and ended up reading this interactive FAQ about the nuptials. I don't care much about American celebrities, but I've always had a soft spot for the British Royals (especially Meghan Markle and her soon-to-be sister-in-law the always flawless Kate).

We were supposed to take this Woodlawn tour last weekend but it was rained out. Things aren't looking great for this weekend either, but hopefully the weather Gods are kinder to us on Saturday night.

I've only seen a few of the Met Museum's annual fashion exhibits (this one was definitely the best), but the current one—Heavenly Bodies—just opened and it looks great.

Things that I've discovered recently:

For decades Steffan Dam, a Danish artist, has been creating this insanely beautiful cabinet of curiosities made entirely of glass.

I had no idea there was the "Sistine Chapel of comic-strip art" hidden at the back of a bar in Midtown and now I want to go.

I had a bad week for Internet recommendations. I finally bought these shoes after seeing them advertised everywhere and hated them the second I tried them on. I also finished this book and pretty much hated the last two-thirds. I don't want to be that person that hates on popular things, but I feel manipulated and annoyed—I really hope that no one ever hates anything I recommend this much!

David is visiting his brother in Atlanta this weekend and we have Monday off for Shavuot so I have a three-day weekend filled with ... not a whole lot—and I couldn't be more excited about it. The Illuminated Mausoleum tour at Woodlawn was rescheduled for this Saturday so hopefully the rain holds off because I was really bummed when it was cancelled last weekend. I don't have the best luck getting into Woodlawn in inclement weather—and right now the forecast for Saturday says 100% chance of rain—but this tour looks so cool that I'd be really sad to miss it.

I'm planning on making a Target run and maybe checking out the Trader Joe's that just opened a few subway stops away from me, but mostly I'm looking forward to a lot of lounging and finishing the last three episodes of this crazy documentary. I'm glad to be done with Manhattan Beach because I just picked up this book and this book from the library and I can't decide which one to start first, they both look so good. Have a great weekend!

Alexandra 5/15/18 Alexandra 5/15/18

Graceland

When my dad and I decided to meet in Memphis, the first thing we planned was a tour of Graceland. I wouldn't call myself a diehard Elvis fan, but I do appreciate the worldwide phenomenon that is Elvis. I love historic home tours and I love 70s kitsch, so it's surprising that it took me so long to get to Graceland. My parents actually took me when I was 8 months old, but I don't remember—my dad jokingly said he thinks they left me in the car.

Graceland is a 17,552 square foot Colonial Revival house with 23 rooms, sitting on nearly 14 acres in Memphis. 650,000 people visit Graceland in a year, making it the second most-visited house in the US after the White House. The second floor—including Elvis's personal bedroom, office and the bathroom where he died—is not open to the public.

I was told that Graceland is "much smaller than you would expect" so many times that I wasn't at all disappointed. I would move into Graceland in a second and not change a single thing. My favorite room was the living room with its long white couch and peacock stained glass panels, and although Graceland is objectively a grand home, it still feels very personal and lived-in.

Graceland is a time capsule of the '70s and the details are fantastic—basket weave wall-coverings, poodle print wallpaper, corduroy drapes, TVs in every room, mirrored hallways, gold accents, and shag carpeting. It's hard to imagine a place where fur lampshades, log slice tables, grass green carpet and tiki statues could coexist, but in the Jungle Room it all somehow makes sense.

Elvis bought Graceland for $102,500 in 1957 as a gift for his parents, Gladys and Vernon. Elvis lived there until his death in 1977 and while he was initially buried in a local cemetery near his mother, Vernon Presley was able to reinter both of them in the Meditation Garden of Graceland and add a memorial marker for Elvis's twin brother, who was stillborn. Vernon and his mother Minnie Mae were buried beside Elvis and Gladys when they died in 1979 and 1980, respectively.

Graceland is much more than the house—the property includes a racquetball court, offices, a trophy room, shooting gallery, two planes and a new complex across the street with museums, gift shops and restaurants. Lisa Marie Presley has sole personal ownership of the mansion itself and her father's personal effects including costumes, wardrobe, awards, furniture and cars.

As much as I loved the house, my favorite part of Graceland was the surrounding wall and gates. In 2016, Graceland welcomed its 20 millionth visitor and it seems as if every single one of them has left a message or their name scrawled along the wall. Everyone knows about the jumpsuits and the sideburns and the drugs and the songs, but it's the fans that have ensured that Elvis will indeed live forever.

Graceland
Elvis Presley Blvd
Memphis, TN 38116

Alexandra 5/14/18 Alexandra 5/14/18

Recent Reads

In Conclusion, Don't Worry About it, by Lauren Graham

I received this book with my ticket to this 92Y talk with my fantasy best friends Lauren Graham and Mae Whitman. I love Graham and her first two books—Someday, Someday Maybe and Talking As Fast As I Can—but I don't know if I would have intentionally paid money for this teeny tiny book. It's basically an expanded version of a commencement speech that she gave at her alma mater and I read it in fifteen minutes one night before bed. She does pack a lot of worthwhile advice into this tiny package and it would be a good "stocking stuffer" for a new graduate or anyone who is currently feeling stuck in their life.

Meaty: Essays, by Samantha Irby

I love, love, loved We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, so I was excited to find a copy of Irby's first book of essays, Meaty, at Goodwill for a dollar. She's currently promoting its re-release so I've been seeing it everywhere—the cover is new, but I think the insides are essentially the same. I think I may have even liked it more than her second collection, if that's possible, and I laughed out loud while reading it on the bus more times that I'd like to admit. Her candor on everything from sex to periods to dating to eating habits is so incredibly refreshing and addicting. I will be passing this book along to my friends and referring to my body as a pre-corpse forever thanks to Irby.

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

This book was recommended to me, and I reserved it at the library despite having no interest in post-apocalyptic stories. It's a good thing that I ignored my bias, however, because I loved this book so much. Mandel's story is post-apocalyptic—detailing what happens both before and after most of civilization is quickly wiped out by the Georgian Flu—but it's not soul-crushingly bleak like The Road. Station Eleven follows several different characters and their lives all intersect in some way or another. Once I reached the halfway point I raced to the finish, and I appreciate that the story didn't wrap up nicely or end with a bang. Station Eleven is one of those novels that creeps up on you with its profundity and I can't wait to see what Mandel writes next.

The Ghosts of Rathburn Park, by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Zilpha Keatley Snyder was my favorite author when I was a kid, and I devoured The Headless Cupid, The Egypt Game and The Witches of Worm. I picked up this book at the Strand for a dollar hoping to recapture some of that magic I felt for reading Snyder's books, but either I'm too old or The Ghosts of Rathburn Park just wasn't that magical. It was a quick, mostly enjoyable read, and I did get brief jolts of the feelings I used to have while reading similar stories.

The "ghosts" of Rathburn Park may or may not be real, but Matthew Hamilton's taste for freedom and exploration was definitely something with which I will always identify. I was actually asked by a person on the train about the location of Rathburn Park—I felt bad telling him that it was fiction, and I realized that a part of me also wished that I could visit the park's crumbling, (supposedly) haunted ruins in real life.

Hollywood Obscura: Death, Murder and the Paranormal Aftermath, by Brian Clune

My friend Jim, who moved to LA last year, gave me this book for Christmas. I suspect that it was a ploy to make visiting the West Coast more attractive to me, and it totally worked. Clune writes about 12 notorious California murder (and suicide) cases, including The Black Dahlia, The Los Feliz murders, Natalie Wood, George Reeves and the Manson murders. Some of the cases I knew about, and some were new to me but the short vignettes contained enough backstory and description to pique my interest.

I could have done without the sections on paranormal activity but some of the sightings were interesting even if I don't really believe in spirits (but I want to!). I will definitely be enlisting Jim to take me to some of the sites mentioned—including the Chateau Marmont, where John Belushi met his untimely end and El Coyote where Sharon Tate ate her last meal—but I'll forever be upset that I didn't make it to the abandoned Los Feliz mansion, preserved inside since the night of the murders, before it was cleaned out and put up for sale.

Alexandra 5/11/18 Alexandra 5/11/18

Happy Friday!

Things that happened recently:

If it feels as if the subway trains are running at a glacial pace, it's because they are.

Our toddler-in-chief has backed out of the Iran Nuclear Deal, and here's why that's such a bad idea (fun fact: my mom and Francesca attended the taping of this episode).

Melania Trump clearly didn't take her own (awkwardly worded) advice when she "designed" this logo.

Things to do in New York this weekend:

Saturday is an illuminated mausoleums tour at Woodlawn. I haven't been to Woodlawn (in the Bronx) nearly as much as I have been to Green-Wood, but it's just as beautiful.

Sunday is Mother's Day, and I (with no selfish intentions whatsoever) bought my mom and I tickets to see the ultimate mother-daughter movie, Postcards From the Edge, at the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn (there are still tickets available!). I've never read the book, but I'm sure it's excellent.

Speaking of Mother's Day, it's not just for moms of human babies.

Things that I've discovered recently:

This Instagram account of food with faces is tailor-made for me. Through their feed I discovered Nouar and her incredible paintings, some of which are available as prints in her Etsy shop.

I don't read much while I'm on vacation, but I managed to finish this book on the plane ride home (bringing my total to 25 for the year, so far!). Despite vowing to only read books I own my library hold list has gotten out of hand and four books just became available at once—I want to read them all obviously, but I can't wait to finally start this one.

A co-worker recommended this place to me for when we were in Memphis, and I was suspicious at first about the shaved ice/soft serve combo, but it was SO good. Does this exist anywhere else? Someone needs to open one in New York asap—this is an Instagramable dessert trend that I could totally get behind.

My friend Katie is visiting from Portland this weekend and staying with me and Mozart in my tiny closet apartment. We're going to brunch on Saturday and then to the mausoleum tour of Woodlawn at night. Sunday I'm spending with my mom, including breakfast at our favorite diner (7th Avenue Donuts and Diner), the movie and then maybe a whirl around the new Target near the Alamo (these are just a few of my mom's favorite things). It's only been a few days since I returned from our little road trip down south, and I'm already dreaming about the next one (Arizona and New Mexico in June!). Have a great weekend and Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas out there—of both human and animal babies.

Alexandra 5/10/18 Alexandra 5/10/18

State Line Big John

I just got back from a five day trip down South with my dad—we met in Memphis and took a little road trip through Tennessee, Mississippi and dipped into Alabama for an afternoon. Of course I made a pre-trip map, and we managed to hit all of my stops, and more. When we pulled up to the State Line Big John—so named because he lives just over the Tennessee-Mississippi border—my dad exclaimed "It's not an Allie road trip without a big statue!" (very true).

Built for the Big John grocery store chain based out of Illinois, Big John statues are about 30 feet tall. The stores and statues were named after the 1961 Jimmy Dean song, Big Bad John and the statues originally wore checkered shirts, aprons and blue jeans and carried four grocery bags stuffed full of food.

Big Johns are understandably often confused with Muffler Men, although they're much more rare—of the 30 or so originally produced, only eight are publicly accessible now, according to Roadside America. The State Line Big John stands outside of a Boom City fireworks store and he looks as if he has recently received quite the makeover. His shirt now features the Boom City logo and he is sporting sunglasses, a fedora and even a gold tooth.

I'm sad that this Big John no longer holds his grocery bags (or even a big firework)—I thought the pole was structural at first, but now I think it's probably for holding a sign. Of course I would have loved to see this guy in his original state, but an extreme makeover (however dubious) is much preferred to losing this classic piece of Americana altogether.

State Line Big John
9199 US-61
Walls, Mississippi 38680

Alexandra 5/7/18 Alexandra 5/7/18

Hall of Fame

I had no idea that there was an “original” Hall of Fame, until I visited it with three friends back in November. The Hall of Fame for Great Americans was dedicated in May of 1901 at what was then the uptown campus of New York University in the Bronx. It was the brainchild of Dr. Henry Mitchell MacCracken, the Chancellor of the University at the time, and features a 630-foot open-air colonnade populated with bronze portrait busts of the honorees.

The Hall of Fame was designed by architect Stanford White, who also designed the nearby Gould Memorial library, the Hall of Languages and the Hall of Philosophy. It has spaces for 102 busts, and currently houses 98 originals by sculptors such as Daniel Chester French (sculptor of the Lincoln Memorial) and Frederick MacMonnies (sculptor of the reliefs on the Washington Square Arch).

In order to be nominated for the Hall of Fame, someone must have been a native born or naturalized citizen, must have been dead for 25 years and must have made “a major contribution to the economic, political or cultural life of the nation.” Honorees include ten Presidents and other “authors, educators, architects, inventors, military leaders, judges, theologians, philanthropists, humanitarians, scientists, statesmen, artists, musicians, actors, and explorers.”

The last honorees were inducted in 1976, but they don’t have busts or plaques because NYU was suffering financially, along with the rest of the city in the ‘70s. The campus was sold to the City University of New York in 1973 and is currently home to the Bronx Community College.

The Hall of Fame is supposed to be open to the public for self-guided tours M-F 9am-5pm and Sat-Sun 10am-5pm. We went on a Saturday and ran into some resistance at the front gate, but after pleading our case we were eventually allowed to explore the grounds unattended. The Gould Memorial Library was unfortunately closed, and I would love to go back and explore the beautiful Beaux Arts landmark.

I had no idea when I was listening to the Wizard of Oz soundtrack on repeat as a kid that the line “You’ll be a bust, be a bust, be a bust in the Hall of Fame,” was referring to this particular Hall of Fame—the first of its kind anywhere in the country.

Like a lot of antiquated memorials, the Hall of Fame unfortunately comprises mostly white men—only a handful of busts belong to women or people of color. Thankfully in 2017, Governor Cuomo ordered the busts and plaques of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson to be permanently removed, although the fact that they were ever in a Hall of Fame of Great Americans is regrettable.

Alexandra 5/4/18 Alexandra 5/4/18

Happy Friday!

Things that happened recently:

If you haven't watched Michelle Wolf's entire brilliant set at the White House Correspondents Dinner, watch it here. I love that she refuses to apologize because she actually did nothing wrong.

The guy that killed 10 people and injured 15 with a van in Toronto recently, claimed that he did it as part of the "Incel Rebellion." If you have no idea what the "incel" community is (like me), here's a good article explaining who they are and why they're so dangerous.

Six months ago, 2,924 gorgeous color slides made in parks across New York City in the summer of 1978 were found in a cardboard box. An exhibition of the photos will be on view from May 3 through June 14 at the Arsenal Gallery in Central Park (near 64th Street) and you can see some of them here.

Things to do in New York this weekend:

Through a Different Lens: Stanley Kubrick Photographs, an exhibition of photos that Kubrick took while working for Look magazine beginning when he was just 17, opened at the Museum of the City of New York yesterday. It will be on view until October, and Gothamist has a preview of some of his incredible photographs here.

About half of the cherry trees at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden are in peak bloom. I check this bloom map almost daily in the spring because I'm a nerd, but if you can't make it to the park here are some photos of their beautiful blossoms from 2017, 2016, 2015, and 2014.

Saturday the Queens Historical Society is giving a walking tour of Flushing Cemetery from 2-4pm. I've somehow never been to this cemetery, but it was established in 1853 and it's the final resting place of Louis Armstrong, Dr. Adam Clayton Powell, Sr., Dizzy Gillespie and many Quaker families.

Things that I've discovered recently:

Still obsessed with Wild Wild Country? Tough titties.

I love these paintings of storefronts and signage by Emily Thompson. She doesn't sell prints, but she does sell originals and I'd love to own one someday. She also posts photos of her often-vintage inspiration on Instagram.

The greatest predictor that I'll buy something is if it's mentioned by Kaylah on her blog, and this week I bought these LED lights for my curiosity cabinet after seeing her use them for a similar collection.

I'm actually in Memphis as you read this—I met my dad here and we have a full itinerary for the next few days. Of course we're going to Graceland and the Civil Rights Museum, and I intend to eat a lot of barbecue in between. We'll also be dipping into Mississippi to sell our souls at the Devil's Crossroads and visit Elvis's birthplace in Tupelo. We finished this Elvis documentary last week so I'm ready to see the Jungle Room and tour Sun Records to see where it all began. It's already summer in New York I guess (spring was nice for the week it lasted!) and I think I picked the wrong time to try out this new deodorant. Have a great weekend!

Alexandra 5/2/18 Alexandra 5/2/18

Springtime in New York

Spring took its sweet time arriving in the city this year, but the cherries are finally in full bloom and it’s supposed to be 88 here on Thursday (too soon!). Each season has its positives and negatives, but spring in the city holds a special significance for me. Six years ago, it was among the tulips in Central Park and under the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden that I mentally made the decision to move to New York.

I had lived in Ohio for all of my 26 years and wanted to be anywhere but there for most of those years. I stayed of my own volition for several reasons—some made more sense than others, especially in hindsight—but New York was never far from my mind. I didn’t have any illusions that a move would fundamentally change me, however, and I tried to have a realistic view of New York’s power to “fix” my life. But I was deeply unhappy.

Uprooting my entire life seemed overwhelming, but it became clear to me on that visit to New York that I needed a drastic change. I jokingly blame Ohio for all of my problems because it’s an easy target, but I take full responsibility for all of the choices that I made to keep me there. I don’t regret anything that I’ve done in my life (even all of those college haircuts) because it’s a monumental waste of my energy and I firmly believe in valuing all of your experiences even—or maybe especially—the challenging ones.

The purpose of that spring trip to New York was an innocuous one—my friend Trent had just completed watching every Meryl Streep movie, and he invited me to attend a Devil Wear’s Prada viewing party. We made Lemon(y Snicket’s) Bars and Hope Spring(s) Rolls and I never imagined that I would have such a personal awakening on a trip that also included me drunk texting everyone I knew and passing out earlier than everyone else in attendance (never invite me to a drinking game). But that’s how these things happen—drastic changes aren’t actually so drastic when you realize that they actually happen very slowly, and then, suddenly all at once.

My New York move was anything but sudden—I didn’t actually move until July of the following year—but every spring I’m reminded of how I felt sitting beneath the blooming cherry trees. It’s cliché to say that I felt myself coming alive again along with the city, but sometimes life really does feel like the movies. The challenges ahead of me at that time were more difficult and exhausting than I ever could have predicted, but in the end I made it through every single one of them—stronger and more grateful than I ever thought I could be.

Six years later, I recognize now that New York didn’t save my life—I did that. I made a choice to be happy, to seek out the joyful things in life, to stop apologizing for who I was and to start cultivating the life I wanted. It’s easy for me to get caught up in daily annoyances and to feel anxious when everything is going smoothly. But every spring I can’t help but be reminded that we are in charge of a large portion of our lives and that we make our own happiness—and when I'm feeling stagnant I now understand that everything eventually blooms again, but only when it's ready.

Alexandra 4/28/18 Alexandra 4/28/18

Dachshund Fest 2018

Dachshund Fest (also called the Dachshund Spring Fiesta) is my very favorite New York event. On the last Saturday in April, dachshund owners (and dachshund lovers!) gather in Washington Square Park. At 1pm everyone sings the "Dachsong" and I'm not exaggerating when I say that I look forward to being surrounded by so many wiener dogs all year long.

Don't tell Mozart, but I think New York has turned me into a dog person. My heart breaks into a thousand pieces every time I see a cute dog and I think this must be how most women my age feel about human babies. Most children just annoy me, but the minute I see a dog in tiny rainboots, I'm an emotional mess.

The Dachshund Fest is the perfect event for me because I get to pet a bunch of the world's cutest dachshunds without having to put in any of the effort required to own a dog. I would love to own my own wiener dog eventually, but Mozart is a bit of a bad seed and might actually murder anything that takes my attention away from her.

It was pretty warm but some of the dogs were still dressed up. There was only one in a bun, but it was a great one—I'm team mustard all the way. Two dogs had jean jackets, one was wearing a snacks-themed onesie, several had neckties and bandanas, two were wearing gingham shirts, two had Hawaiian shirts and the "Best Wiener in Town" hoodie was just too much. All ages, colors, sizes and coat styles were represented and I met three separate dachshunds that were 17 years old (Diesel, Pepsi and Chili).

This was my third year at the Dachshund Fest (here are my photos from 2015 and 2017) and I recognized a lot of dogs (and their owners) from previous years. I also recognized an embarrassing amount of dogs from accounts I currently follow on Instagram, including Mina the Wiena, Big Al, Zoe Morini, Chili and I met Dachshunds of NYC, Waddles and a lot of other new friends—if you see a photo of your dog, say hi!

Alexandra 4/27/18 Alexandra 4/27/18

Happy Friday

Things that happened recently:

Peter Knoll, heir to the Knoll furniture company fortune, died of hypothermia after living for years in an Upper East Side multi-million dollar townhouse without heat. I'm fascinated by eccentric, New York heirs and heiresses, and Knoll's story reminds me of Hugette Clark—I loved this book about her and have this one in my queue.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn, burrito-sized rats are terrorizing Brooklyn Heights and a mail carrier was "too overwhelmed" to deliver 17,000 pieces of mail.

After 40 years, they've finally arrested a suspect in the Golden State Killer case. I've had this book on hold at the library for a while, and now I'm even more excited to read it.

Things to do in New York this weekend:

Saturday is my very favorite New York event: the dachshund spring fiesta in Washington Square Park. The gathering starts at noon, and they will sing the "dachsong" at 1pm. I've been twice—in 2015 and 2017—and the hardest part is leaving the park without stealing someone else's dog.

The New York Adventure Club is giving tours of the Treasures in the Trash collection and there's one on Saturday. We took a tour during Open House New York and I just love so much that this exists.

There is a World's Fare going on in Queens this weekend—100 vendors from 100 cultures, including food, music and art vendors will come together as a homage to the other World's Fairs that happened in Queens.

Things that I've discovered recently:

Francesca showed me an ad for this pet glove and I impulse bought one because Mozart has been shedding tumbleweeds. It works great and she hates it way less than a traditional brush—my mom had me order one for her Maine Coon so maybe we'll start a cat hair craft business.

Lindsey is trying to help me with my journey into the scary world of skincare and she recommended a charcoal face sponge for my weird oily but flaky skin. I still feel very lost in the world of beauty products, but I've been loving how smooth this weird, slimy Korean face sponge makes my skin feel.

My mom alerted me to the existence of "the new Grumpy Cat," Loki the sphynx. I already love sphyx cats, but Loki looks so angry all the time and he is definitely my spirit animal.

My mom and I are definitely going to the dachshund fest on Saturday—if you listen closely, you may be able to hear me squealing with delight every five seconds. We'll eat breakfast beforehand but I have to choose between the Washington Square Diner or the Waverly Diner. It's a good problem to have, however—it's becomingly increasingly rare to have more than one option for a classic diner in one neighborhood. I'm intrigued by the World's Fare but a bit wary of the admission price and I get overwhelmed by crazy long lines and trendy foods at festivals (I tried the lackluster Ramen Burger years after it was the 'it' thing). David and I watched part one of this Elvis documentary last weekend—I'm going to Memphis next weekend!—so I'm looking forward to the second part with fat, jumpsuit/Vegas-era Elvis. Have a great weekend!

Alexandra 4/26/18 Alexandra 4/26/18

Arthur Avenue

The Belmont section of the Bronx is often referred to as the Little Italy of the Bronx or the "real" Little Italy to differentiate it from the more famous Little Italy in lower Manhattan. Generations of Italian families have lived and worked in this neighborhood, and Arthur Avenue in particular has become a destination for anyone who loves fresh mozzarella, red sauce and cannoli (*raises hand*).

Three of us (missed you, Jen!) headed to Arthur Avenue on Saturday with the purpose of eating, and we did not want for choices. The neighborhood is small, but packed with five-star options—the hardest part of visiting is trying to decide where to go when every place looks and smells as delicious as the next.

We weren't on Arthur Avenue for five minutes before Francesca and Lindsey were eating oysters from a sidewalk table set up outside of Randazzo's. I have an almost pathological fear of eating seafood, but I'm trying to be more open about it—especially when it's free—so I couldn't resist when I was offered a clam (my first!). It was slimy and cold and tasted mostly of hot sauce (thankfully), but I don't think I'll be craving that gritty sand aftertaste anytime soon. The guys at Randazzo's were so welcoming and playful—encouraging Francesca to touch the world's slimiest eel and gamely posing for photos—and it set the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

After Randazzo's we did a lap around the Retail Market. The market is small but full of vendors, sandwich shops, butchers and produce stands. I'm always a bit overwhelmed by bustling markets and all of the options and people squeezed into such tight quarters, but they're as much of a visual feast as well as a place to buy items for a literal feast. There are hanging meats, cans of tomato sauces, barrels of olives and boxes of exotic vegetables—you can even watch people hand-rolling cigars out of huge, crispy tobacco leaves.

We left the market without sampling anything, so we were hungry for a proper lunch. Dominick's was one of the restaurants on my radar and it's right across from the market. Dominick's serves classic Italian food, and while our meal wasn't life-changing, the dining experience was a unique one. Dishes are served family style, seating is communal and very cozy, and there is a single menu tacked on the wall—go take a look before you sit down, try not to forget what you want before your server arrives and then be guilted into ordering way more food than you intended.

We ordered the antipasto for one (it was more than enough for the three of us), linguine with marinara, ziti with vodka sauce and three meatballs. We most definitely did not need the ziti or the third meatball, but it's hard not to be swayed by the delicious things on nearby tables and the chaotic ordering style. We left full, happy and a bit overwhelmed—and with enough leftovers for at least two more meals.

SonsAfter we rolled out of Dominick's, we headed toward dessert. I had read that Gino's Pastry Shop fills their cannoli right in front of you, so that was an obvious choice. They don't have a charming vintage sign like Addeo & Sons or Egidio's, but when we walked into the small shop a man straight out of The Sopranos was holding court. He was wearing a track suit and oversized tinted glasses and bragging about his connection to Frankie Valli—I couldn't have designed a better welcome into an Italian pastry shop if I tried.

We ordered cannoli and espresso and watched with anticipation as the chocolate-covered shells were indeed filled on-demand. Cannoli might be my all-time favorite dessert and I can say without hesitation that this was the best one I've ever had. It was so good, in fact, that I got two to go, and they were both gone within 24 hours.

Above photo of the cannoli filling by Francesca (it's super fun having someone else taking photos on our adventures now that she adopted my old camera!), all other photos by me.

Randazzo's
2327 Arthur Ave,
Bronx NY 10458

Arthur Avenue Retail Market
2344 Arthur Ave,
Bronx, NY 10458

Dominick's
2335 Arthur Ave,
Bronx, NY 10458

Gino's Pastry Shop
580 E 187th St,
Bronx, NY 10458

Alexandra 4/24/18 Alexandra 4/24/18

Haven For Pets

Just north of Palm Springs on the side of a flat stretch of road is a dusty lot that you might pass right by if not for the "Pet Cemetery" sign out front. Or if you're me, you come here because you've convinced your friend Jim to pull over at the coordinates on your Google Map labeled with the note "pet cemetery, Liberace."

When we arrived at the cemetery, we were greeted by the caretaker/owner and he was nice enough to take us on an impromptu tour of the small burial ground. He inherited the cemetery from his grandfather, and was struggling to maintain the grounds after a water shortage caused by a dispute with a neighbor. They were slowly trying to rehab the desert landscape, and about half of the ground was covered in grass while the other half was cracked and dry.

Haven for Pets (alternatively known as Pet Haven) has operated as a family-owned pet cemetery in Desert Hot Springs for nearly 60 years. They claim to be Southern California's first green burial ground—caskets and burial shrouds must be biodegrable and embalming fluids and vaults are prohibited. The caretaker explained that he also makes all of the caskets by hand and has fielded some strange requests from bereaed pet owners—one local pastor requested that his bunny be buried with his face turned toward Jerusalem.

Due to its proximity to posh Palm Springs, Haven for Pets has some notable residents, including six of Liberace's dogs (with the epitaph "Love, Lee"). President Gerald Ford's dog Liberty—a golden retriever—lived at the White House during the Ford administration and is interred here, alongside her daughter, Misty. The cemetery is also the final resting place for approximately 1,000 other animals including cats, dogs, birds, monkeys, rabbits, pigs and at least one baby seal.

Haven for Pets
66270 Dillon Road,
Desert Hot Springs, California
(approximate address, look for the Pet Cemetery sign)

Alexandra 4/23/18 Alexandra 4/23/18

Tarpon Springs

Tarpon Springs is a city on the Gulf Coast of Florida, known for its sponges. Greek sponge divers started arriving in Tarpon Springs in the early 1900s, but In 1947, the sponge fields were wiped out by a red tide algae bloom. The Florida sponge industry rebounded in the '80s when a disease hit Mediterranean sponge fields, increasing the demand for Florida sponges and there's still a small, active sponge industry in Tarpon Springs.

Tarpon Springs, population of around 20,000, has the highest concentration of Greek Americans of any city in the country. The town seems built for tourists, and it's made up mostly of restaurants, bakeries and souvenir shops. The two largest shops are The Sponge Factory and Spongeorama, the latter of which dubiously claims to have the world's largest collection of sponges.

Both shops show a different short, educational sponge diving movie and we watched both—never turn down a free movie about the history of sponges. The Sponge Factory has a better selection of sponges overall, but Spongeorama's vintage movie is definitely better. Both movies contain "secret" discount codes, although I don't know if it was worth saving 10% on the $4 finger sponge that I bought to suffer the indignity of awkwardly telling the clerk that I was a "sponge expert."

The harvesting of sponges is actually pretty brutal to watch—they hack them free from the sea floor with a giant hook—but the leftover fragments can regenerate. It's hard to reconcile the fact that the squishy, porous sponge was once a living creature, but what you think of as a natural sea sponge is in fact just a soft, fibrous skeleton. Over-fishing almost brought the animal to extinction in the mid 1900s, but today a lot of the sponge-like products are made synthetically.

The variety of sponges on display in Tarpon Springs is amazing. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors and density and have been used by humans for centuries. Some sponges even have medicinal purposes and have anti-cancer, anti-bacterial and anti-fungal properties. I love places like this that are built around hyper-specific themes, like Sleepy Hollow or Roswell, Sponges are everywhere you look—on boats and buildings and bikes—and I almost started to believe that I was a sponge expert after spending just a few hours in Tarpon Springs.