New York...

I cry each time I leave the city.

Its as if the contour of the city skyline is the prefect puzzle piece completing the jigsaw of my complexities. Like when I am here I am all of a sudden complete, and yet without this "Big Apple" I am anything but. Its true that I learn here, and take home with me new revelations each time I come, strengthened in some shape or form, yet I cant help but feel that there is something that I leave behind.

And I love the place.

I love so big that my love fills the streets and sidewalks, explodes through all places, until it boars through concrete and roots me firmly here, leaving some little piece of my very spirit deep in the heart of this urban oasis.

I walk these streets amidst the car horns, surrounded by the urban decay of tossed away newspapers and crumbling brick and i can't help but fall for all of her imperfections.

What I love about New York, is what I loved about Venice, two cities like old sages, different and yet alike in their attitude. Like Venice, New York is like fading movie star, wearing her scars proudly, signs of addiction, heartache on her sleeve. And while Venice seems to no longer try, letting the locals dress her for the tourists, New York still rocks the rhinestone studded heels, hot pink lipstick and fur coats. New York, comes and goes with bang, or more accurately a taxi horn.

The first time I came here I remember feeling the pull of this place, as if there is a gravity that yanks your forward to achieve. Opportunities for success are endless, there is not just one definition of reward here. So everyone is seemingly reaching for something better, something bigger than they have. Yes, this hub of capitalism creates a tangible, palatable desire within me to go forward, like I get swept up in the current of some great river pushing me forward forever towards my dreams.

I imagine that this is what settlers felt, once they completed their Atlantic journey and first laid eyes on the Statue of Liberty.

While I am sure that the world holds many places that inspire, what I love about New York is that not only does she urge you to reach your destination but she challenges you to do it as loudly ad boldly as one could ever dream. Rhinestone studded heels, boas, lipstick and all.

Life is a party, a broadway musical, a late night cabbarret and steamy backroom encounter. NY life is sexy, edgy, sultury, seductive and ruthlessly unappologetic.

If home is where the heart is...mine is in the streets of New York.

Travelling...

The last lazy days in Zürich have been both enjoyable and insufferable. It was pleasant that whenever I had seen it all I would stumble upon a spot, or a square that took my breath away. What has been so enjoyable is that the folk of Zürich seem to enjoy these spaces as much as me, men walk through parks together after work, couples make out, business folk read newspapers and the glamorous women stroll in their Prada flats.

While I have so enjoyed girl talk with Laura and Timo, lunches, shopping, eating cake and drinking wine over the past few days, I have been secretly counting the minutes to my departure. Of course, I am anxious to see Andrew and have someone to experience travel with, but also I....just...wanted...to...move.

It got me thinking about the nature of travel. While I see travel as an invaluable experience that brings understanding, tollerance, patience and education into a persons life, I also see travel as an indulgent, and even dangerous, escape. As we travel I feel we seek to somehow escape the disquiet, dissapiontment and discontent of our lives. Perhaps its a week in Mexico to forget about work stress, or a month traveling through South America to escape capitalism, or a weekend in the mountains to escape the city, we all run from something.

The very literal word of travel, to move away from one location, be it emotional, physical or spirtual to the next.

Its no wonder that scores of North American twenty-something students spend summers running around Europe, Asia and South America as they escape the pressures of deciding just what to do with their lives, themselves and discovering how they would like to relate to the world around them. I too am guilty of seeking such escape.

I took this trip to experience Europe before heading to journalism school, to enjoy a little down time, but also to get away from a career that has in many ways recently disapionted me, to escape my fight with my yoga practice and to just fill the time and the space until I could finally, finally just start to persue what I feel I was born to do. In my final days of spending time here all of those feelings have moved back into my life, that itch to go forth and make something of myself, the desire to move away from the things that no longer fullfill me the way they once did. And at the end of the day, that disquiet and discontent all gets channeled into the feeling to move on, move forward and explore something, somewhere new.

I have always in some ways admired those who travel for months, years or decades on end. The lifestyle is something I could not handle for too long (I need a larger shoe collection than this type of lifestyle allows). But I also wonder how it is that folk like this can detach themselves from stability both physical and emotional. I think of all the relationships that blaze like shooting stars bright and brilliant, but lacking the true depth that can only result from time with another. I wonder how they can detach from the stability of having a home (and a regular washing machine) physically.

In the end, I feel that travel is a very double edged sword. Travel offers a beautiful escape with life changing and expanding experiences, but can be dangerous, addictive, and indulgent. I suppose one simply has to know the difference between the two.

Last...

These are the last few moments of my stationary life in Zurich. In about 20 minutes I will leave out the doors of the beautiful apartment I have called my home and not return. It breaks my heart to just type it. I have felt so at home here, save for feeling the bite of solitude as I was living alone, I will miss this place to no end.

So here begins my European journey. Its a miracle I managed to pack everything into my pack. I don't know what I was trying to prove when I came here with nothing but a 50 liter back pack and a small Heyes carry on. If any of you saw me pack for New York, with my three luggages for two weeks you'd be stunned to see the lack of things I have brought for this trip.

So now I have very few clothing options, and everything is crammed into my bags with no room for more (don't let that fool you into thinking I won't shop). But, that being said, don't feel sorry for me, feel sorry for Andrew who has to put up with me for two weeks living out of such a small selection. He has to deal with all the packing and repacking of goods, the irritation I am bound to feel when that one grey slinky DKNY top is at the bottom of my pack.

So here I go...first a spend a night or two with Timo at his place, then head to Venice to meet Andrew and thus begins our Euro Tour 2008....

its bound to be epic.

food for thought...

I would have liked to incorporate this into the last post, but it didn't quite fit and it was long enough as was. This was said by a yoga student named Michael during a conversation about quality of life in Switzerland versus the rest of the world. It pertains specifically to the readiness of post-secondary education in Switzerland versus the USA...

"It seems to me, that is almost as if in America education is deliberately unattainable. Like the elite keep people stupid and poor on purpose. If you give people an education you give them a voice. So if the population cannot educate themselves, they cannot fight their government, and the government does not have to answer to their people. It is like the rich make it more unattainable to have more control over the population."

Party like... a ROCKSTAR

So I tried to party in Zurich once more....

And this time I hit it out of the ballpark...

All I needed was a little help, which came in the form of Laura and Pamela.

Here was the formula for success

Sex and the City (the movie) + champagne at a swanky Zurich bar + 3 girls who love to dance + a great DJ + MJ, Bob Marley, QUEEN, Busta Rhymes, Britney, Kanye West, Chilli Peppers, White Stripes + cosmopolitans + some great outfits and make up = The BEST girls night EVER!!!

it was one for the history books...

To Switzerland....

Sadly, my time in Switzerland is coming to a close. I am so excited to see the next parts of my journey, to experience Italy, France, see my old hometowns in Germany and Czech again, but I am sad to leave this place.

Switzerland has slowly and surely found its place in my heart.

Indeed some of the stereotypes, Zurich is teeming with bankers, prices are high, the cars shiny and expensive, people are punctual to a fault, the chocolate is amazing and patriotism is high. The swiss are comically stubborn about the most trivial of details, like always calling their currency the Swiss Franc, in line at the store it is not uncommon to hear someone ask you for 34.50 Swiss Francs. The electrical outlets in Switzerland are different from all the outlets in the rest of Europe making things considerably frustrating for even the swiss as many appliances are manufactured with the standard European plug. And yes of course there is the scandal of Jewish gold and assets that were "discovered" in swiss banks long after WWII.

But for their faults, I must say I have come to respect this country. Everything just seems to work. Pensions and government benefits are impressive. Post secondary education is virtually state provided (citizens will have to pay a maximum of 5 thousand dollars for a bachelors degree). Trains and busses run on time (if not a few seconds early) and are the stuff of legend.

Swiss parliament has an incredibly interesting structure. Rather than relying on who wins most votes, Switzerland's federal council is determined by a 'magic formula' that shares power between the four major parties. This council has seven ministers who all maintain regular working jobs as their positions are only part time (this includes the president). The president serves a one year term and the position rotates between the seven ministers of the federal council. Many of the laws are are voted on by Switzerland's population in public referendums that occur many times a year.

Yet, what is most striking in this land of affluence, is the attitude and goals of the people. In my experience, the swiss have moved beyond looking to their titles and bank accounts for validation. It is surprising the joy that people find in their work. While in North America we teach our children the dignity of being a doctor of lawyer while preaching the wisdom of going for a six figure salary, the swiss teach to always do what you love regardless of the perceived couth of the career.

Perhaps it is a result of the education system, or that shortage of money has never been a huge issue in this red and white flagged land. But you feel the passion the swiss have for what they do. Recently in a conversation about occupation a man said to me, "I love my job so much, everyday, I go somewhere new, I meet someone new, and for me this is so interesting." his eyes lit with passion as he described being a Whirlpool Mechanic. What would be considered a menial blue collar job, in which people usually would not feel inspired or stimulated this man described with such joy.

It is almost as if because there is no need to worry about education or because of the quality of it, there is a higher importance placed on moving the quality of life and efficiency of the nation forward. "The swiss have had money for generations," said another student, "they've already had all the cars, the properties, the toys and now are starting to downsize. It is as if there is a collective understanding here that money does not necessarily equate to happiness. People leave their six figure salary jobs and trade in their luxurious lifestyles for a simpler more joyful life."

But do not let that fool you. This is land where mothers walk behind strollers in stilettos, the elderly dress in bright colours and classy styles, and haircuts of children are immaculately styled. Movie theaters have martini bars, leather seats and attendees are better dressed than a majority of the people who attend ballets in Vancouver. The swiss certainly know how to be glamourous be it in a restaurant, a car, walking down the street or around the lake. Of all the cities I have visited, New York, LA, West and North Vancouver, I must say that the swiss are the most fashionable. That being said I am sure that there are New Yorkers and LA folk who out do the swiss easily, but as a group the majority of the population in Switzerland outdoes any other.

But when all is said and done it is the way that the Swiss government treats their citizens that makes me respect them the most. Aside from free post-secondary education, workers benefits are staggering. Each worker is automatically entitled to four weeks of paid holiday a year ( something virtually unheard of in North America). Pensions are surprising, for example, a swiss citizen who worked for some time in Switzerland, now living in Canada can receive a $1,200 pension from the swiss government along with full coverage of his Canadian medical expenses including prescriptions (again virtually unheard of).

With benefits like this it is easy to understand why the swiss are so proud of their country, and why it tops the lists of best places to live. As a visitor, Switzerland and Zurich in particular did not wow me at first, it does not have the same dazzle and seduction of metropolis' like New York, but it wins you over slowly and surely.

I feel I understand why many people see the swiss as rigid for on the surface these are immaculate, rich, punctual and efficient folk. It is when you look deeper that you see the true identity of the swiss, a culture that works hard to drive quality of life higher for both themselves and their country. Had I not spent this amount of time here, I too would have had a very limited view of this population. But after time after meeting so many interesting people, having so many engaging conversations, and gaining an understanding for this place and its people; I can say that I love Switzerland.

I will miss greatly it when I leave.

Laundry...

Means numerous descents and ascents down the creaking wooden staircase that is the only means of moving between the floors of my building. What was first monotonous, and draining has become a fun game for me as I observe the way the lives of my neighbors spills from their apartments and into the hall. Having not met any of them , I make guesses and judgements based solely on the belongings strewn along my journey.

We start in the cellar, the earthy smell of concrete and brick is thick in the cool air, broken only by the scent of fresh laundry from the small space occupied by the washer drier and pile of clothes from whichever tenant has once again forgotten their laundry.

We climb our first flight of steps, not forgetting to turn off the light, and close the wooden door behind us.

We pass four strollers on our way out of the building, this is a place for families. There is a lone door on the bottom floor. Occupied by an older couple, they are glad to be so low in a lift-less apartment building. They are tidy and clean, and rarely hold on to unnecessary mementos, and this is reflected by the lone aluminum waste basket that stands outside their door.

As we climb the steps the earthy smell of the ground foyer is replaced by the smell of aged wood. I always smile, it reminds me of happy times playing in my grandmas attic as a child. Upon turning the corner and rising our second flight of steps we see the overflow of a rich family life.

There are three kids who run this household, with two merry parents trying to keep up. The mom has a knack for interior design, and loves to flip through books of swatches. Unfortunately with the kids, her swatches too often end up outside in the hallway, unloved collecting dust. They are my kind of folk, mac users, as is obvious by the stickers that adorn their kids' toys. Unlike their downstairs neighbors, these are sentimental folk, hanging on to the art work of their kids, old postcards from forgotten friends, and shoes that no longer fit. And when it doesn't fit into the house, it ends up in the hall. Life explodes from their home onto their doorstep and sometimes....falls down the neighbors steps.

Careful not to trip over the teenage shoes, and the toddler toys, we continue upward. To the only childless couple in the building. A chesterfield is kept company by an interesting modern hat stand, which too often hangs empty. While there are no kids, there is a beloved dog, small furry and cute, he's been know to have digestive problems that are the create the only mess in this highly organized power couple's life.

Up once more, and we've arrived on the steps of my outdoorsy, do-it-yourself-er neighbors. They are organized, stacking their materials carefully in labeled rubbermaid containers, they approach each project with mathematic precision. When not attempting a new project they are out enjoying the swiss wilderness, putting to good use the skies that stand carefully zipped up and ready for the next ski season to begin.

Finally we've made it to our door step, or the doorstep of Barblin and Christian. an outdoorsy couple as well, they enjoy hiking in the mountains with their day packs as much as they enjoy biking around lake Zurich in the summer. Travelers, their taste in decor includes trinklets they've picked up around the world: a small buddah head in asia, dried flowers from the country side, a pair of baby shoes in Paris. They are clean folk, and store all their cleaning products carefully behind a white sheet, but regardless of home much they clean they never seem to be able to downsize their ever growing shoe collection...

Step inside for a closer look...

...to be continued.

I SPOKE GERMAN!!!

Walking home from the supermarket close to my place, I spotted a shoe repair shop a block from my place. This was increadibly fortuious since i brought a cute pair of Stephane de Roncoure shoes which I bought a size too small. I packed them in hopes of getting a true European cobbler to fix them.

I walked into tis tiny store, and a little man straight out of a fairy tale came to the front. With his small hunched frame, long polish stained fingers, braided grey hair and gold rimmed glasses, it was all I could do not to reach across and hug him. Anyhow, I asked if he spoke English and he confessed no, so he asked if I spoke Spanish and I said no. So I tried my best in german..and it came out of my mouth without a thought...

"Ich haben shouen"

Now, I realize there is nothing revolutionary about telling a cobbler that you have shoes. In fact, its kind of already implied when you walk in the door. But the fact that I didn't even need to think about saying something in german, or reference a dictionary....

thats a bit of a revolution.

woot.

Party like a grandma....

I partied like a loser last night....

Here's the thing, for a young 23 year, free with her own apartment I have not been doing so good 'living it up'. I usually get off work around 8 o'clock, or 9:30 at the latest. At this point the street patios of the cafe's and lounge's that litter the streets around my neighborhood are teeming with Zurich's most beautiful folk. Each day, I simply retreat home to my pad, cook myself a nice meal, respond to emails, or post blogs, read a little and hit the hay.

I am in one of Europe's prime party destinations, I am free to do as I please and still I stay at home night and after night. Something had to be done, with only two weeks left I decided it was time to go out an party.

I asked around the studio, and got a good recommendation from Markus, a club owner. This guy is so convinced about the place he has recommended me to go, that he is constantly wearing a silver VIP ring proclaiming his dedication to the place. I figured that it must be the best thing since sliced bread.

So I got ready, tried something new with my make up that worked out great, and headed out at about 1:30 as per the directions of the locals. I walked through the red light district ( a stones throw from my place and got to the club a mere 4 blocks from my place.

I wondered if I was at the right place, there was one guy standing outside smoking a cigarette: one lone doorman and no line (quite the change of place from the armies and winding ques outside Granville night clubs). I dig for my id, passport and anything I can show for legit ID, the guy laughs at me glances at my passport and says "thats very nice.." I was stunned....then again the legal drinking age in Switzerland is 16.

So I continue, down the steps to this underground club, walking alone through hallways opening a succession of heavy metal doors all painted black like I'm heading into the depths of the CIA. Then I get there....

And the place REEKS.

There is so much smoke in the air that I am convinced that they've had the smoke machine going over time, but the smell denotes its just cigarettes and weed. So I decide to suck it up. But listen, its not just that every person in the club is smoking but its the fact that for the duration of this club's life, every patron has BEEN smoking. Essentially it was like sticking your face into a bucket of cigarette buts and taking a whiff....and staying there to breathe.

So I stash my stuff...I am going to be a cool party goer tonight. So I start to dance... but the beat doesn't change for the whole hour I am there. Sure it slows down, the crowd stops bobbing, and when the DJ speeds things up again they scream in relief, as if there was actually a chance he may have left it going halfspeed the whole night.

So here I am, annoyed with the drugged up clientele that keeps spilling their drinks on my shoes, annoyed with the every person who can't dance but only seems to be body checking me around the dance floor, I'm coughing (literally) from the smoke, and they bring out the laser pointers.

LASER POINTERS

Suspended from the ceiling are these lighting machines that flash lasers all around the club to the great delight of the party goers. This is when I realized I needed to leave, because rather than rejoicing like everyone else (it did look cool), I immediately cast my eyes downward and thought

"What a safety hazard!! What if one of things hits someone's retina!!"

That combined with the fact I was constantly thinking about the welfare of my brand new Globus leopard print scarf, wondering if I was able to hand wash it to get the smell out, made me decide that I really needed to leave.

So I went home, got on Skype with andrew, ate chocolate and finished the night like every other, safe and sound in my bed.

I really need to work on my cool status....

A cure for the blue...

I have a strategy for when am upset about things... usually when I am in a terrible rut of a mood, I call Translink. I chose a bus I frequent, (usually the 19 because its always late) and I complain. There is something about the way that complaints department knows how to respond that just makes you feel like everything is going to be okay.

Today I have decided to add to my strategy.

Whenever I am depressed I am going to call hotels in Italy and make reservations. Sure, I will cancel within a day's time but, the experience! I've been calling hotels in Venice to book a room for Andrew and I. since its the weekend when we arrive, there is added urgency to find a great place for a greater price. What once seemed impossible to do under 400 Euro, seemed within reach once a few emails were sent out.

The first phone call I made was to Leo at the Hotel Bernardi "Si? Pronto!" He answered and I immediately melted to a puddle on the floor. I gathered myself quickly and made the correct arrangements. Still I thought I could get a better deal so I called Silvana at Hotel Marte, her cheery nature was contagious. She ended the conversation with an overjoyed "Perfecto!!.... Ciao, Ciao, Ciao!!" As if I had just told her she had won the lottery.

I'm still shaking with the joy of Italian... in reading Eat, Pray, Love once more I am beginning to realize and understand what prompted Liz Gilbert to go and study Italian and why she felt it could heal all her wounds...

Oh how I can't wait for Italy!!!

Zurich... a temporary home

A week has gone by, and today marks day 11 of my trip. Everyone talks about how expensive Switzerland is and I must concur, prices here could stand to be cheaper. But alas, I can't complain. My apartment is painfully beautiful. Situated on the top floor of an older building, its wooden beams and vaulted ceilings won me over immediately. Now, I have to force myself to step out of the house because sitting in front of open windows by my computer, and eating fresh bread and cold cuts has turned me into more of a homebody than I would like to admit. But I have told myself that enjoying my accommodations is also a part of my journey.

Adventures have come in all shapes and sizes. Learning to work a gas oven was a little scary, the elements were not too much trouble, but the oven oh the oven. I looked up on google how to light a gas oven, afer not being able to work it out on my own (and I really tried, for like 10 minutes). I psyched myself out after reading everyones warning, I tried to figure out just how much gas had gotten into the air after trying to light the damn thing for the last 10 minutes, and decided I didn't like even coming to a conclusion. Even after airing the area for ten minutes, I was still convinced that I was going to blow up the apartment and burn down the building, or at least my eyebrows (which would have been equally tragic). Luckily nothing happened, except of course that i lit the thing and made a great dinner.

I've explored a good chunk of Zurich now, but explorations have been limited to my neighborhood, the lake and old town. I've done some touristy things, but still have a small list of things to do. One of which is to go out clubbing, the other to see an exhibition happening which features a replica of King Tut's tomb, hike up to veiw point looking over all of Zurich and do some more drinking and eating at local spots.

This and some more weekend trips to explore Switzerland, and I should leave with a good impression of the place. Expect more adventure stories to come....

Finally..

Its taken me a few days to secure a good internet connection and find the correct adaptors for my Canadian plugs. But I am all set now, and ready to start blogging.

To bring you all to date, I am traveling in Europe for the next two months. I start teaching yoga in beautiful Zurich for one month before meeting Andrew in Italy and traveling with him for two weeks and then visiting my family and the Czech Republic before heading home to Vancouver in July.

Here are some entries I wrote while en-route to Europe.....

Vancouver - Calgary May 2, 2008

Departure… and so it begins.

Some tears and a margarita and I was on my way. In tearing myself from Andrew and making my final phone calls I still remained desensitized to the reality of Europe. This enigma of history and heritage lies before me and I feel like I may as well be going to Winnipeg for the weekend.

As I staggered (I don’t remember asking for a double) from my seat down the carpeted gateway, I laughed out loud. “I am going to Europe.” I thought.

I didn’t even make it through the take off and was out like a light, thankfully closed mouthed and drool free.

The descent into Calgary woke me gently. Conversation bubbled around the airplane, eager Europe bound passengers reciting their travel itineraries eyes bright and eager like small children.

The hour in Calgary offered me an opportunity to flex my journalism

muscles. Finding out from my fellow passengers the EuRail passes can only be bought outside of Europe, I had 45 minutes and a cell phone to figure out how to score a pass. Andrew came though with a flight center phone number and I managed to secure a pass that will be available for use three days from now. Crisis averted.

Amsterdam May 3, 2008

I arrived in the Amsterdam airport and wasted no time. I b-lined to the Capri-Sonne juices and bought a bag of Haribo coke bottles. I nearly squealed when presented with all the yogurt options, man Europe has it right! With a Body Shop and Whistler Water, this airport is so heavily westernized its disappointing.

Though I would love to spend the day in Amsterdam and fly out to Zurich tomorrow,

I managed to find a flight for under 200 Euro to Basel where I will catch a train to Zurich and arrive with enough time to get somewhat settled.

In recent conversation a friend told me that our sense of smell is our strongest of the five. While I briefly stepped out of the airport, my nose filled with the small of cured meat and European cigarettes, and I recognized it. Like, “oh yes, this is the smell of home.”. Could it be that I remember?

The people are already well dressed and beautiful, but I am still searching, hungry for an experience that will make me feel like I am in Europe

more to come tonight I promise......

Top 10 Reasons I <3 NY

My love affair is with New York is no secret. I've wanted to live there since I was 13, and as I grow older my passion grows deeper. After this years two week excursion I have come up with this top ten list.

10. The Museum of Natural History...

I walked through this place with my mouth gaping open, tripping over my own feet with delight. Someone designed this place with me in mind, artifacts, rocks, civilizations and evolution, science and archeology, and dinosaurs. Where was this museum when I was 8?

9. The Scented Candles...

Okay, designer scented candles in Vancouver are an arm and leg ( I know because I have paid it) but in New York not so much. New York boutiques almost always carry at least one, if not three, lines of scented candles. Not only that but they also burn one of these candles so that every boutique has its own signature scent.

8. At the club...

The girls apologize when they step on your shoes. And do so sincerely. No joke!! Not only that, they are aware of your shoes, and make a conscious effort not to step on your shoes, even when drunk!! I was speechless... I ended up thanking a girl for apologizing for stepping on my darling Mui Muis.

7. Diversity...

I found it so fascinating really being surrounded by people of so many different cultures. Not only that, but the diversity leads you to be able to experience so many fascinating culinary adventures. What struck me most about New York's diversity is being able to experience something so wholly outside of your own reality. Stereotypes are shattered and simultaneously confirmed, while understanding is deepened. Experiences can be uncomfortable, awkward, inspiring, surprising but are always interesting.

6. The Neighborhoods...

Chelsea and its museums, Lower East Side and its vintage stores, Midtown with its glitz and glam, and the list goes on. Emerging from the subway one never knows what exactly to expect, what is for sure is the that your experience will be different and intriguing. Whats more is the architecture that is scattered through these neighborhoods is a delightful juxtaposition of old and new. Gothic churches lie next to skyscrapers, while 80's box apartments stand across the street and brownstones are littered throughout.

5. The Subway...

yes there are rats, and congestion, homeless people and often unpleasant odors. But the system is so comprehensive traveling around Manhattan is incredibly easy.

4. "Junk" Food...

New Yorkers know how to do the bagel and cream cheese thing so well. A bagel comes with its own weight in delicious artery clogging cream cheese, and is dense yet fluffy, not a brick as is the Canadian custom. And of course...there is no such thing as a bad slice in NY. I have no clue what they do to make their pizza taste so good, whatever it is they are doing it right!!

3. Art...
The Met, MOMA, Broadway and Lincon Center are just the beginning. Art rivals litter in this city, found in the most unlikely of places: the walls of the subway stations, decorating barbed wire fences, unlikely theaters up precarious staircases and the t shirt of someone passing by. Public art is provocative and whether it is appealing or not always leads to good discussion. Whether your tastes are classical, modern or something altogether different, the New York art scene will have something for you.

2. The men...

I knew I had landed in New York when the border guard spent more time hitting on me than asking me the regulatory questions. When a man checks you out in this city, he wants to get caught. When you look good, you KNOW you look good. In the clubs, when you dance the men don't scurry into corners like nocturnal creatures running from lamplight, they step up and buy you a drink....LOVE IT!!!

1. The NY attitude...

there is no time for bullshit in New York. People are upfront, honest and kind. They will give you honest directions, they will check you out and tell you what they think. Go to coffee by yourself, and you can still have endless conversations with the surrounding clientele. With people being so upfront and honest, you are forced to throw your facades by the wind and act from an authentic place. Forget passive aggressive bullshit, forget manipulation, and welcome in honesty and truth. Thats what makes New York my favorite place on earth.

In the span of a year....

I will see this veiw...

Grandma, I'm comming home