NYC

Took the regional train from Baltimore, through Delaware, Philadelphia, New Jersey, to NYC. First breath out the door of Penn Station and I felt alive. Anticipating what the city had in store. Hailed a cab, checked in to our midtown hotel. Little black dress never fails, took a town-car through central park to Lincoln Center.

Inside the Metropolitan Opera House the plush red, gold and crystal was beautiful, and that was only the lobby. Our friend met us at the door tickets in hand. Like all good things family circle seats are passed down and there I was a California girl attending like a true New Yorker.

From our little balcony boxes we saw the beautiful love story of Aida unfold. My favorite part was when they brought out the horses, the brown ones were my favorite, the white ones were very nice too. Due to a misunderstanding we missed the first act, and we were told they had real live elephants onstage also. I loved the full orchestra, choreography, set design, it was like watching a musical, dance recital, theater, concert all in one! During the intermissions we sipped bubbly and viewed costumes of Pavarotti on display. While he was a very round man he was certainly not a very tall one.

I am not sure what part of town we sat down in for our 11:45pm dinner, but Blue Ribbon, which has expanded since I last went three years ago, was delicious. In the basement they housed an entire brick oven bread bakery. Over dinner we discussed travel, a wedding in Dubai, journeys through South America.

We continued to MAS a southern French lounge and restaurant. They handed me my after dinner drink in a crystal sifter with my espresso, frangelico and hand whipped cream. The after dinner conversation, centered on the slow food movement alive and well in NYC, as well as a discussion on viewing education through an economist lens. Likely because there were economists and scholars in the conversation.

Out the window I saw neat stacks of cardboard flattened and tied with string. Blue bags for recycling, and no bins. I learned that in NYC, the trash is privately contracted not city run. Around 3am, I saw the big apple recycling truck come by, and was giddy. (At MAS late night dining and alcohol are served til 4am.) It was a funny thing to focus on I suppose, but novel to me.

The next day, my good friend and L.A. transplant met me for brunch. We took the subway to Union Square walked through the farmers market to Craft Bar. Great company, good food and breaking news: Seems I may be attending her wedding in Vermont next Fall!