East Coast, Baby
Letter #78: Three weeks back in Philadelphia and New York City with some of my best friends. 🥳
Philadelphia 4/28/24
On the road again—and what a magical feeling it is! It’s like I’m at home in myself again. I was instantly lit up walking around the streets of Hilary & Andrei’s neighborhood, in South Philly. The atmosphere is gritty, the streets are impossibly narrow, and the decor of the shop signs are a haphazard mix of old and new. The (young, transient) people dress in an inspiring way, and I can tell there’s good taste in music here—like an underground, deep cut taste. It’s the type of environment I could thrive in. I understand it, and because I know how to stand out, here I can fit in.
And what’s more? They loooove their old school mom and pop restaurants and dive bars in Philly.
I have two weeks in NYC after this where I’ll spend time with Sasha, Katlin & Thibault, Kezia, Nicholas, Rob, Bilal & Lara. I’ll have my fill of laughs and solid friend time before heading off to Italy for nearly 5 weeks of alone time.
I’m beyond grateful to have that time to get back in touch with myself. To be re-inspired by my surroundings. To dream and make priorities for my future. To be outside all day, every day.
New York 5/5/24
It’s surreal how strong my feelings still are for New York. Hil and I got tattoos in Philly. I had wanted to get New York tattooed on my forearm for a while, I testament of love to the city that developed me into who I am today.
I wondered if I’d regret it, if I’d feel silly about it. But inside I decided that—f*!k it—it’s better to have fun and not overthink these things. If I love something it’s worth it to have it permanently etched on my skin (the same does not go for an ex-boyfriend 😂).
Saturday I nearly missed my bus from Philly to NYC. I ran three blocks in the rain to find the “bus stop”. The bus was pulling up to an intersection at—lucky for me—a red light. As I launched myself into the crosswalk, 47 lbs of my luggage trailing behind me, the bus driver waved me over. Laughing, he opened the door, asked my name, and allowed me to fling my luggage into the front seat.
I settled into the second row, sweaty and spent. I put in my AirPods and immediately fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes a couple hours later, curious how much of the trip was left, I peaked out the window to see the NYC skyline looming to the east. My heart flooded with an array of emotions. Excitement, love, longing for my old life there.
Any fear of regret for tattooing myself with a love note faded, replaced by an affirmation so strong it nearly took my breath away—an acknowledgement to myself that my initial feelings are still viable. Those moments of affirmation have shown up for me frequently in the past year and a half. A gentle reminder that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, at the time I’m meant to be there.
I was in such a good mood getting off that bus at 6pm on Saturday night. I gave the driver a high five as I got off, thanking him again for waiting for me.
I pushed my heavy luggage east towards 8th Avenue so I could get on the A train towards Sasha’s apartment in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn. I was thrilled to have a reason to buy a fresh Metrocard. I’d been storing mine in the card holder on the back of my phone, the bright yellow face blocking the chip of my credit card to prying eyes. The one I had was worn out and expired, so I excitedly swiped my credit card for a new Metrocard that I could proudly display around the city—another sign of affection for this place I refuse to let go of.
Reaching Sasha’s is comforting and familiar. I love the stressed, creaky wood floors, the Parisian-esque kitchen, and the small habits and behaviors of her 15-year-old pup, Mia. She had a Lambrusco chilled and ready for me. We shared a quick glass of wine while we caught up before heading over to Saraghina for dinner.
I miss this sprawling, rustic restaurant in the heart of Brooklyn. A mix of a marble bar with industrial metal appliances fills the space. There are woody vines covering the outer windows that overlook the garden. We were surrounded by candlelight, distressed wood stools, and wafts of garlicky tomato sauce floating by. We decided to stay at the bar for dinner and opt for the $29 half liter of Chianti to share (don’t even get me started on what that price will be when I reach Sicily…). The cacio e pepe rivals what I’ve had in Rome. I’m beyond fulfilled being back in a neighborhood that holds so many memories for me (especially from Ally and Lars living here for nearly 7 years), back at a restaurant that never disappoints, and with a dear friend that I can truly be myself with.
Being back in NYC without having to work in NYC is one of the best feelings in the world. The idea that I have the next two weeks stretched in front of me while working from the comfort of Sasha’s apartment has me feeling like a kid in a candy shop. I’ll do so many of the things I love—walking through the tree-lined streets of Bed Stuy, Fort Greene, and Clinton Hill. Having wine in some of my favorite bars. A massage at my favorite Park Slope spot that smells faintly of cigarettes, where the therapists’ cell phones are constantly dinging, but where the $58/hr deep tissue massage is the best I’ve ever had—worldwide.
Seeing old friends I’ve had for years, my cousins, and spending ample time alone. Running along Eastern Parkway and listening to afternoon jam sessions in Prospect Park. Fulton Thai, Banh Mi Place, Mayfield, Nagle’s Bagels, and Nana Ramen. All the spots with killer food or killer ambiance, killer wine or killer people watching, and if you’re lucky, a mix of all four.
To feel that all these parts of me are waking up after laying dormant for the past few winter months is exhilarating. I’m a little kid, with the adventure of three whole summer months ahead of me.
And to think—five weeks of my Italian dream life spent after this…🏖️
Hey! Would you like to connect over creativity, self-growth, and problem-solving? Please book a time on my Calendly for us to chat! I can’t wait to see you. XOXO.
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A good time Bobby for sure!! Also, is that wine with your breakfast?