Tag Archives: manhattan

ET the Extraterrestrial

4 Apr

If Day #1 of my last week in NYC was all about Williamsburg, then Day #2 was largely Lower East Side… and a one-off trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

First order of business was the Tenement Museum, where my roommate Sanaz and I jumped on a 4pm tour called “Hard Times” At this point, it was around 11:30am, so we had some time to kill. Sanaz wanted bubble tea and, after I mentioned a good dumpling place I’d visited a couple of years ago, she was suddenly very hungry. Then we were off, on a mission to find these Chinatown culinary all-stars, zig-zagging through cramped streets and past tiny stores with funny names (ahem, Mei Dick).

After we’d accomplished everything we came for around the Canal/Mott Street area, Sanaz and I made a split-second decision to hop on an Uptown train and spend a couple hours at the Met. What a great idea – especially considering that the museum recently updated its Art of the Arab Lands collection. It might help to know that Sanaz is from Iran and quite knowledgeable regarding the traditional regional designs of Persia.

By 4pm, we were back in the LES and on our tenement tour. By 5pm, we were at Essex Street Market buying produce for the night. By 6pm, we were (literally) limping home. Not sure how I’m going to run and go to the NY Botanical Gardens tomorrow.

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NYC you later!

30 Mar

What would you do if you only had one week left in New York City? Excellent question.

Responses are as varied as the people I’ve met in this great city and range from Turkish baths to botanical gardens, schmancy brunch spots, and endless amounts of walking. In my last week-and-a-half in New York, I want to really love this city. She’s been my constant companion for the past two-odd years and I want to do her right – no tears, no speeches, no cowering, no wimpering – just naked gratitude.

I’ll miss her, that’s for sure, but more for what she’s shown me; more for what I’ve learned about myself while living in this place; more for the wonderful people I’ve met; more for the life-long friends. New York has been very good to me – very good for me – and, for that, I could never feel sad.

When I say goodbye to New York, I will not only bid farewell to part of my life but also a piece of my heart.

Adieu, mon ami!

My last week in NYC. Photo credit: Shannon McGarvey 2012

A Walk Around North Brooklyn

10 Mar
Phil Collins Street Art

Phil Collins Street Art at the Greenpoint Ave. stop in Greenpoint. Photo credit: Shannon McGarvey 2012

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Eyebrow Treading

7 Mar



5 Mar

I wished that this guy looked a little more like this guy.

That is, “Hollywood Montrose” from the 1987 classic Mannequin

Happy Monday!

Man and mannequin

Central Perks

27 Feb

My “Maine Squeeze” Carter came to visit last weekend and we made a pilgrimage to the American Museum of Natural History.

If you recall, I also embarked on an adventure to the museum – though, alone – recently. I’ll concede that our time at the museum was much more eventful than my own – after all, we did have an en route picnic in Central Park while meandering crosstown.

I also got to scratch a “to-do” off my long list of items when we stopped at the Hayden Planetarium for “Journey to the Stars.”

Way cool.

Man Mask
Carter at the American Museum of Natural History


Man and Woman Smiling
Shannon and Carter
Man at 81st StreetCarter in the 81st Street Station

Stop and Smell the Roses

22 Feb

Every morning I pass the same violinist in Union Square.

She is not just any violinist – she is The New York Violinst - of whom I’ve never heard of but admittedly sounds very official.

Every morning I pass this woman; with her violin and her stiff back, her long gray hair and her yoga pants; a tourist invariably stopped beside her to listen; and I think to myself, “how nice it would be to have nowhere to go.” But it’s the morning and I’m headed to work with the rest of Brooklyn, caught in the human deluge of rush hour. Every time I see this violinist, that scene, I pull out an ear-bud and I listen for as long as it takes to walk by. And when the music gets too far away or the sound of trains drown it out, I always think about how I should have stopped to enjoy it.

This morning, as the same lament for the dying chords of “Pachelbel Canon in D” set in, I had those thoughts again. “Choices,” I thought. I could choose to stop instead explaining away reasons not to. And so, as effortlessly as that, I retraced my steps back to the violinist, still with her for all of one minute, and then instantly headed back on my way.


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