|New York, 2010|
Tomorrow morning we head out for a 3-night jaunt to northern Vermont for my cousin's wedding.
Assuming my bridesmaid's dress still fits, I am excited for the festivities and the chance to see some greenery after so much grit this summer. Normally by mid-July we'd have been up to Maine for several weekends, but due to the move and my growing bump we've been on lockdown in the city for a much longer stretch than we are accustomed to.
Now, it's not all bad. I've had my feet nibbled by mosquitos at Union Pool, taken some swims, eaten watermelon al fresco, and seen a few fireworks. But the idea of farm stands, country air, and the absence of that summer garbage smell seems pretty appealing too.
Posting may well be sparse for the next few days, but in the mean time, here's a great Gawker essay on leaving New York.
Don't worry, I'm not rejecting my adopted city any time soon. When people tell me I'll eventually, inevitably move to the 'burbs ("so the kids can have a lawn"), I get chills down my spine. I still feel quite adamantly that New York is the best city in the world.
But, yeah, sometimes you've got to get off island.