That weekend I fell in love with New York
I'm moving rather slowly this morning. I woke up from a weekend I'll never forget in a city that keeps you going at a fast pace. So to say I'm tired is an understatement. A good understatement.
New York is exhausting. From the lights, the sounds, the graffiti, the food, the subway, the energy -- all of it. My friends will tell you about their hate love relationship for the city. "It's just overwhelming sometimes."
We spent our time in Brooklyn this weekend and having the luxury (or curse) of getting to drive around this borough, I discovered diversity on another level. One moment you are in what arguably could be the ghetto (unless of course you actually are in the ghetto -- then you should try to blend in as much as possible or at least come along with a weapon) with barbed wiring above coffee shops and curious looking bystanders rolling a joint in front of a man with his baby in a stroller trying to hail a cab. The next few blocks away you are in Hasidic Jew nation. With odd looking men dressed in black suits and interesting top hats allowing their curls to fall out next to their oversized beards. I kid you not they were out at every corner of this neighborhood.
Then you are in Carribean nation with cheap chinese food juxtaposed to a Dunkin Donuts, Jamaican Bakery, ethnic food stands, and a Walgreens. The music is as though we are in the Bahamas but the stench and Hispanic marching band walking casually down the street reminds you that you are definitely in New York. And tucked inside a small but oh so chic apartment near the lovely Prosspect Park is where one of my favorite people lives.
There's something about reconnecting with old friends and picking right back up as if we had just seen each other the other day that reinvigorates your soul. It does the body real good I tell ya. We woke up to rain on Saturday morning and decided it could be a good idea to make one of our hundreds of Pinterest recipes. We settled on baby quiche and biscuits (not made by scratch, who are we kidding). Perfect.
While it was baking, I drove to an entirely different neighborhood called Bushwick -- about 5 miles away -- full of entirely different sights and sounds. A culture that reminded me more of old school Brooklyn with barber shops next to flower shops and families with kids zooming around on their skateboards in the grimey yet beautiful streets of NY.
I can't describe the excitement I felt to connect two of my favorite friends who live in the same city -- struggling in similar ways but radiating in all their positive energy. I knew it was going to be the perfect fit. And it was.
Me: "So are we really getting tattoos?"
Jess: "Um, I don't know. Are we?"
Me: "I didn't come to New York, to NOT get tattoos."
Jess: "Okay then. I guess we are!"
Elena in all her art and graphic design background asks us matter of factly, "what type-font are you going with?"
Good question. Oh, we should probably have inspiration and put more than 2 minutes of thought into this very permanent decision right? So we spent the next hour searching online for the perfect type-font. I don't really like the 'L' it's not slanty enough. I want whispy and sexy. I like this one but the 'e' isn't what I'm going for.
Elena ultimately took charge and helped create a design I fell in love with. And Jess had a couple of fonts she saved and ultimately threw her hands up and said "Fuck it. Let's do this."
Big Bang Ink was the name of the shop. Google reviews rated it highly and it was cheap. Win, win. After countless attempts to make the Jess' quote more cursivey but not so "tatto-ey" and also not like a signature, her turn was up.
Josf did a phenomenal job. And it gave me the confidence I needed to get mine next. And she didn't disappoint either.
There's something about getting tatted with a friend that bonds you... for life. And the more I became aware of what just happened, the more I panicked. Not about the everlasting friendship I have with these two beautiful souls, it was more about the doubts and buyer's remorse of a permament thing I just did to my body. And the copious amount of alcohol that was consumed soon after did not help. But I got over it... eventually.
The Williamsburg part of Brooklyn was my favorite, thus far. I found it to be hipster and grungy. But I couldn't spend too long admiring the sites when I was so friggen HANGRY. Luckily this dive Whiskey Bar had delicious nachos and what we came there for PICKLE BACKS.
That would be a shot of whiskey followed by a shot of pickle juice. Add a cheap beer and repeat 5 times. The vibe of the place turned from Tom Petty & Phil Collins to Lorde and Sam Smith real quick. The bartender takes our chairs and states, "It's time to dance." Okayyy.
Oh and this happened too...
Washing our tatts in the very public restroom of a bar.
Because Elena just had to go out in her Star Wars shirt on the weekend of Comic-Con (totally accidental) she attracted weirdos. And this one particular dude who bought us a pickle back, pickle, pickle, pickle backkkk (we clearly made a rap) also wouldn't leave us alone all night. When it was time to leave I asked him for a suggestion of a park and he mumbles Barry into my ear. Barry Park, perfect! While we are drunkingly roaming the streets searching for what I thought was a green oasis in the city, we start to pick up the pace when we look back and he's following us!
Elena brings us to what Barry Park actually is -- an outdoor bar. Although it wasn't what I had imagined, it was everything I had imagined. Which is a common theme in this city hence hate/love. The views of the city from the patio against the string lights with an energy of swanky and college all mixed in one were just perfect. And Josf the tattoo artist met up with us there although I was too busy in the bathroom with my partner in crime to remember his presence.
And because I can't put in to words just how perfect the Sunday after I got over my hangover was. Here are pictures to prove it.
The more time I spent with these ladies in a city so vibrant and stimulating, the more I fell in love with their souls. Elena's calming and wholesome energy compliments Jess' edgy and spontaneous vibe nicely making them a perfect addition to my ambitious free spirit. We make quite the trio. And I am counting the days until our reunion. Next time we are tearing up Manhattan!!
New York is exhausting. From the lights, the sounds, the graffiti, the food, the subway, the energy -- all of it. My friends will tell you about their hate love relationship for the city. "It's just overwhelming sometimes."
We spent our time in Brooklyn this weekend and having the luxury (or curse) of getting to drive around this borough, I discovered diversity on another level. One moment you are in what arguably could be the ghetto (unless of course you actually are in the ghetto -- then you should try to blend in as much as possible or at least come along with a weapon) with barbed wiring above coffee shops and curious looking bystanders rolling a joint in front of a man with his baby in a stroller trying to hail a cab. The next few blocks away you are in Hasidic Jew nation. With odd looking men dressed in black suits and interesting top hats allowing their curls to fall out next to their oversized beards. I kid you not they were out at every corner of this neighborhood.
There's something about reconnecting with old friends and picking right back up as if we had just seen each other the other day that reinvigorates your soul. It does the body real good I tell ya. We woke up to rain on Saturday morning and decided it could be a good idea to make one of our hundreds of Pinterest recipes. We settled on baby quiche and biscuits (not made by scratch, who are we kidding). Perfect.
While it was baking, I drove to an entirely different neighborhood called Bushwick -- about 5 miles away -- full of entirely different sights and sounds. A culture that reminded me more of old school Brooklyn with barber shops next to flower shops and families with kids zooming around on their skateboards in the grimey yet beautiful streets of NY.
I can't describe the excitement I felt to connect two of my favorite friends who live in the same city -- struggling in similar ways but radiating in all their positive energy. I knew it was going to be the perfect fit. And it was.
Me: "So are we really getting tattoos?"
Jess: "Um, I don't know. Are we?"
Me: "I didn't come to New York, to NOT get tattoos."
Jess: "Okay then. I guess we are!"
Elena in all her art and graphic design background asks us matter of factly, "what type-font are you going with?"
Good question. Oh, we should probably have inspiration and put more than 2 minutes of thought into this very permanent decision right? So we spent the next hour searching online for the perfect type-font. I don't really like the 'L' it's not slanty enough. I want whispy and sexy. I like this one but the 'e' isn't what I'm going for.
Elena ultimately took charge and helped create a design I fell in love with. And Jess had a couple of fonts she saved and ultimately threw her hands up and said "Fuck it. Let's do this."
Big Bang Ink was the name of the shop. Google reviews rated it highly and it was cheap. Win, win. After countless attempts to make the Jess' quote more cursivey but not so "tatto-ey" and also not like a signature, her turn was up.
Josf did a phenomenal job. And it gave me the confidence I needed to get mine next. And she didn't disappoint either.
There's something about getting tatted with a friend that bonds you... for life. And the more I became aware of what just happened, the more I panicked. Not about the everlasting friendship I have with these two beautiful souls, it was more about the doubts and buyer's remorse of a permament thing I just did to my body. And the copious amount of alcohol that was consumed soon after did not help. But I got over it... eventually.
The Williamsburg part of Brooklyn was my favorite, thus far. I found it to be hipster and grungy. But I couldn't spend too long admiring the sites when I was so friggen HANGRY. Luckily this dive Whiskey Bar had delicious nachos and what we came there for PICKLE BACKS.
That would be a shot of whiskey followed by a shot of pickle juice. Add a cheap beer and repeat 5 times. The vibe of the place turned from Tom Petty & Phil Collins to Lorde and Sam Smith real quick. The bartender takes our chairs and states, "It's time to dance." Okayyy.
Oh and this happened too...
Because Elena just had to go out in her Star Wars shirt on the weekend of Comic-Con (totally accidental) she attracted weirdos. And this one particular dude who bought us a pickle back, pickle, pickle, pickle backkkk (we clearly made a rap) also wouldn't leave us alone all night. When it was time to leave I asked him for a suggestion of a park and he mumbles Barry into my ear. Barry Park, perfect! While we are drunkingly roaming the streets searching for what I thought was a green oasis in the city, we start to pick up the pace when we look back and he's following us!
Elena brings us to what Barry Park actually is -- an outdoor bar. Although it wasn't what I had imagined, it was everything I had imagined. Which is a common theme in this city hence hate/love. The views of the city from the patio against the string lights with an energy of swanky and college all mixed in one were just perfect. And Josf the tattoo artist met up with us there although I was too busy in the bathroom with my partner in crime to remember his presence.
************
Morning after was spent reminiscing of all the fun we had the nigh prior. How adorably hilarious of a mom Elena turns into when the kids (Jess and I) are misbehaving on the streets of Brooklyn. How we probably could have gone without that last beer at Barry Park. How we had a good heart to heart walking along the streets. How overall it was just a great night.And because I can't put in to words just how perfect the Sunday after I got over my hangover was. Here are pictures to prove it.
Comments
Post a Comment