I have no problem at all driving in the city because I pay no attention to what is happening behind me. That’s their problem, not mine.  After a few minutes on the streets I’m beeping like a seasoned taxi driver, except I don’t have a turban.  This time we took the New Jersey Transit train from Trenton and that was a blast, too.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

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Today I am grateful for New York City Streets.  I used to get to NYC a lot. . .at least a few times a month, staying over on a whim.  But until last week, it had been a year since I was there. I forced myself to forget how much I missed it. 

 

 

 

I have no problem at all driving in the city because I pay no attention to what is happening behind me. That’s their problem, not mine.  After a few minutes on the streets I’m beeping like a seasoned taxi driver, except I don’t have a turban.  This time we took the New Jersey Transit train from Trenton and that was a blast, too.

 

 

 

I love the smell of bacon, strong coffee and baking bread that permeates mornings in New York.   The rolling food carts with roasting chestnuts and falafel at all times of the day and night reminds me of Jakarta, Indonesia.  Listening to the deep accents of merchants, taxi drivers and waiters makes me feel like I am visiting a land I’ve never seen. 

 

 

 

I own New York.  It’s mine.  And I like it best when I stumble upon a new gem, like the spot where my sister and I had a drink after the show we went to the other day.  A seventh floor balcony overlooking Broadway?  Sixty eight degrees at eleven o’clock at night?  In late October?  Are you kidding me?   It was perfect.  The streets never looked better and for that I am grateful.  It is, after all, MY New York!

 

I love the smell of bacon, strong coffee and baking bread that permeates mornings in New York.   The rolling food carts with roasting chestnuts and falafel at all times of the day and night reminds me of Jakarta, Indonesia.  Listening to the deep accents of merchants, taxi drivers and waiters makes me feel like I am visiting a land I’ve never seen. 

I own New York.  It’s mine.  And I like it best when I stumble upon a new gem, like the spot where my sister and I had a drink after the show we went to the other day.  A seventh floor balcony overlooking Broadway?  Sixty eight degrees at eleven o’clock at night?  In late October?  Are you kidding me?   It was perfect.  The streets never looked better and for that I am grateful.  It is, after all, MY New York!