i.
I haven’t traveled much in my adulthood, or in my life as a whole. My family used to drive to neighboring states for long weekend visits with both sets of grandparents, and I took a class trip to D.C. when I was in middle school. I’ve never been overseas; I don’t have a passport. Since entering my twenties, I’ve been on six trips around the domestic United States, four of which have involved flying on an airplane.
I’ve traveled solo, with friends, and with some guy I liked to play house with. I’ve traveled after a breakup, in the midst of an uncomfortable tiff with a friend, and during the peak of a personal transformation I am convinced I’m still going through, though I am on the homeward stretch.
This time around, I traveled with my lover, and I fear I may have been too spoiled. What a pleasure, what a joy, to travel with someone you love very much and who loves you just the same. I am a sucker for romance—always have been.
My favorite way to travel is to pretend like I’ve always been there and that I’ve never left, nor do I plan to ever leave (coincidentally, this is also how I approach my love, who feels like home). My inner control freak requires me to draw up a loose itinerary of how I’d like for these things to go, but the plan rarely veers far from what I assume a typical day in the life of a local is like in that particular locale. In short, my plans for the long weekend went something like this:
Wake up, get ready, find coffee & vegan pastry--for Tom Walk around, ride bikes, take the train Visit a museum, go to the park, find a bookstore, vintage shop Eat dinner, seafood, go to a wine bar, dancing Take pictures
Totally normal, incredibly fun, and I felt right in the world the whole time. Aside from a rotten headache that sent me home before dinner the first night in, the trip was successful. What constitutes a successful trip? For me, it’s an ease in returning back a home, a seamless transition from being there to being back here. It’s how I feel right now as I write on my recovery day (essential), sipping coffee on a weekday at a cafe I used to come to back when I still had weekdays off.
During the trip, I felt happy. I was excited for what was just around the corner. I prioritized rest, something I never do. I felt very much in love with my self, my surroundings, my partner, and all those around me. I only feel a little blue about returning back to work. God, I can’t wait to have a proper shower.
ii.
Joan Didion once wrote, “It is often said that New York is a city for only the very rich and the very poor…New York is also, at least for those of us who came there from somewhere else, a city for only the very young.” I’m young, but I’m not that young. And I’m poor, but Tom always tells me that everyone in their early twenties is poor. If I could offer my late favorite writer an addendum to this paragraph in Goodbye to All That, I’d encourage her to say that New York is also a city for those in love. I know that isn’t what she was trying to say; my story is a little different.
I don’t think I’d ever live in New York. For as much fun as I’ve had on both trips there, I don’t think the place is for me. Making a living and getting by in a new place is a far cry from spending a few days bopping around with friends, and when it comes to New York City, baby, I prefer the latter. I especially prefer the latter with my love. I could perform any mundane task with Tom and it would be one for the books.
While in Manhattan, waiting to attend a party in Greenpoint, we stumbled into a Thai restaurant in a basement on St. Mark’s Place. We ordered dumplings and noodles, Tom drank a beer and I had a Coke. Together, we tried to piece together the nuance of the couple sitting beside us. From my perspective, it was clear that she was orchestrating an incredibly mature and practical conversation about the trajectory of their current situation. From Tom’s perspective, he was emitting “the worst vibes,” which appeared to be stunting the discussion’s progression. The conversation ended with her covering the bill. Tom saved my seat while I used the restroom, then humored me on a trip to Urban Outfitters to buy a scarf so that I could be comfortable in the temperature-drop. Love!!!
Navigating the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn, standing pressed together in a crowded wine bar, and spending an awful lot of money on food and frivolities is a pleasant pill to swallow when you’re with someone you love. My first trip to New York was a solo journey; I had just started dating Tom a couple months prior. And while I am just fine on my own, I will stick to my personal philosophy that there is little pleasure in eating alone.
iii.
notable food & drink excursions:
Chez Alex - This became our local spot for the duration of a trip. We stopped in on our first day after dropping our things at our Airbnb. We had coffee, sandwiches, and a vegan apple turnover. Chez Alex specialized in vegan treats, so Tom was able to indulge. We visited Chez Alex at least three more times during our trip.
Banter Bar - A silly soccer pub that was right next door to Stranger Wines, a shop I had intended to visit on my last trip. We had some beers on the patio and watched some English football in the sun. The television screen had a trapdoor that could be opened and closed depending on the weather.
Win Son - On Friday, we dined out family style at Win Son in Brooklyn. Noodles, Katsu chicken, beef rolls, shrimp, and more. I ordered a chilled red for the table. We played with the lazy susan. Me and Tom kissed a bunch.
Sauced - A walk-down wine bar with little-to-no elbow room. The patio was closing right as we walked in. Again, I grabbed a bottle for the table at cellar temperature. The bar was dimly lit and while I have complicated feelings about Kanye West, it was comforting to hear a Chicago native blaring through the speakers while Tom jokingly mocked me for losing his pack of cigarettes. If my estimation is correct, the pack had about three more sticks left.
KiKi’s - Mediterranean food for a Saturday lunch. Tom and I met with my friend Drew and his girlfriend, Claire. The menu was surprisingly complicated to navigate for my Dairy Allergy BF, but nevertheless, we persisted. We ordered sausage and vegetables, marinated potatoes and eggplant, a perfectly dressed green salad with herbs and feta (on the side, for me). Tom had a beer and I ordered a conventional orange wine.
Klong - The aforementioned restaurant in the above section. I loved this place! I could have ordered more if we weren’t on more of a time crunch and if I had been hungrier. We ordered chicken and shrimp dumplings that I’m eager to recreate, and these sweet noodles with pork. We chose to dine in back where the tables were tight.
Nowadays - We capped our final day with a visit to Nowadays, an outdoor/indoor venue with food and drink vendors and a pop-up indoor restaurant with ramen on the menu. We drank spicy margaritas and danced for hours to house music spun by Mr. Sunday himself. On my way out of the indoor restrooms, someone stopped me and said they could picture me at Berghain. I’ll chalk that up to me wearing all black, but a win’s a win.
iv.
I’m home now, hardly unpacked. I like to let my suitcase sit for at least a couple days after I get back from a trip. It helps me settle back in. If I’m feeling off, or alone, or generally blue, the suitcase in the middle of my bedroom floor reminds me why. I don’t have to piece together my feelings or sort out what’s going on in my head; I’ve been away, that’s all. Unpacking straight away feels a little too final, like the trip is really over (which it is). I like to pretend for a little while that I’m still on my journey home, just passing through a place that looks and feels a lot like my bedroom in Chicago, albeit a little messier.
Ideally, I’d like to enamored at most times, if not all. While I think it’s important to be filled with scorn some of the time, I can’t deny that being totally filled with love toward someone or somewhere or something is seriously the shit.
The first thing I did when I got home was go to the grocery store where I unwittingly spent $60 on groceries for the week. I made a big pot of soup that I’ll be eating for the next few days. I’ll maintain this feeling in me; let’s hope it lasts through the year.
—
As always, thank you for reading. I’ll be honest and say that I’m not all that interested in writing at the moment. I’m a little tired, and I’m coming around to the idea that I may be burnt out after what has been a long, hard year. Despite rough waters, I have experienced so many moments of joy, and while I love to share my life with others, I think I want to keep some of these things for myself and those closest to me. At least for a little while.
Expect newsletters on a more monthly basis from now on. Think of it as a surprise! It isn’t good for us to work so hard all the time. I love you, I love you, and I love me, too. It means a lot to me that you read my words. Muah.
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