I'm done hiding.

I owe you, my baby fistful of readers, a sincere apology. I have let myself become swallowed by distraction after distraction, and neglected this blog.

Needless to say, Part 4 of the "Manhattan" series is going to be posted this week, and then some, so please bear with me as I collect the warring portions of my brain and heart and try to mend them together without confusing the two...

xx,

Charlie

Charlie Takes Manhattan, Part 3

After waking up to a beautiful sunrise Monday morning, Grandmother and I completed our daily grooming rituals and prepared for the day. Lane was already awake with a hungry baby, and her tired eyes instigated a search for coffee. With nary a bean to be found in the house, we set out for a quick jaunt around the neighborhood in search for caffeine and food. A stop at a Jewish market and fruit stand provided us with the proper ingredients to fuel us for the busy day ahead. Fresh coffee in our mugs and with an abundance of cereal and fruit, the four of us sat down to a lovely breakfast filled with laughs and day-planning.

While Grandmother chose to stay in Brooklyn, I opted to take the train into the city, where I had already made plans to meet up with a dear friend of mine for lunch. Coordinating my sunglasses and boots with my beloved Tory Burch cardigan, I leaf-crunched my way through the crisp, cool Brooklyn morning, four blocks to the subway station, stopping only to get a Post from Artie at the bodega. Before I knew it, I was on the D train, bound for 36th Street, where I quickly transferred to the N train, which would carry me into Manhattan.

Thirty minutes later and having quenched my thirst for Page Six gossip, I arrived at Union Square--a few short blocks from my foodie destination: Pure Juice and Takeaway, more commonly known as One Lucky Duck. The juice and snack bar portion of the immensely popular raw vegan restaurant, Pure Food and Wine, 1LD is a quaint and tiny place, with made-to-order meals, sweets, drinks, and retail--the quintessential spot for people-watching, or, in my case, people-meeting! Erica and I "met" through the blogosphere over a year and a half ago, and have grown quite close through e-mail correspondence. Being the PF&W connoisseur that she is, I knew 1LD was the only place worthy of our first get-together!

Train delays caused me to be uncharacteristically late--punctuality is something I pride myself on. Maneuvering around the crowd that makes up the famous Greenmarket, I made my way past the W Hotel; a quick glance in the windows confirming the groups of ladies-who-lunch gathered inside, no doubt gossipping about the latest rumors I myself had been enthralled by on the train ride.

When I saw the restaurant, just around the corner from the takeaway, I had to stop and admire it's inviting and earthy yet modern exterior. After staring for what seemed like several minutes, my stomach kindly reminded me of my lunch date, so I continued on my way, where in my haste for food and conversation, I mistakenly overlooked the juice bar and, after a call of mild distress to Erica, turned around and almost sprinted the thirty feet to the door.

I hereby dub this "the wall of greatness."

It sounds cliché, but even though I was extremely excited to finally see Erica in person, I felt as if I had known her for years. After exchanging hugs (and Erica, kind soul that she is, shared one of the blonde macaroons she'd been snacking on--YUM), we salivated over the menu, trying to decide what to order.

Since she'd basically tried everything on the menu, and because we were, after all, at 1LD, I knew I couldn't go wrong with anything I chose. I eventually settled on the raw sushi. Oh. My. This was heaven. Light, refreshing, full of flavor--it was hands down the best sushi I've ever had. I was even lucky enough to sneak a bite from Erica's plate--the falafel with tabhouli. I've never had normal falafel before, but who needs it when you have this?! Amazing.

After practically licking our plates clean, we made our way to the pot of pure gold at the end of the rainbow, a.k.a. the dessert case. Filled with the raw, vegan version of every childhood treat imaginable, I was, needless to say, a bit overwhelmed. "What do I choose?" wondered my spinning mind. (Actually, I think the dilemma was more along the lines of "What do I NOT choose?") We decided to get a few items to split between us: almond butter and "oh-reo" cookies, one of the much-talked-about mallomars, and a pint of the "oh-reo" ice cream.

Words can't even describe how wonderful everything was. Where most desserts leave you feeling heavy and lethargic, Sarma's creations instantly provide a boost of energy and a euphoric feeling of lightness and health. The mallomar was divine, and I dream about it to this day. The cookies were demolished upon entering my mouth, and the ice cream--oh, the ice cream! Made from coconut meat and soaked cashews, it was the richest, most decadent and luscious ice cream I've had the privilege of putting in my mouth. Whereas some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouth, I see myself dying with a silver spoon of 1LD ice cream in my mouth...

Before we knew it, the minutes has transformed into hours, and Erica had to depart for some errand-running. We said our goodbyes and made plans to meet up one last time before I headed back home.

Continuing down the sidewalk alone, I set off for my own NYC adventure, with no one but the bustling strangers and the sounds of the city streets to keep me company...

Part 4, next time...

Charlie Takes Manhattan, Part 2

After picking us up from JFK, my cousin drove us to her brownstone in Borough Park, Brooklyn, where we would be accommodating her guest room. Upon arrival, we were greeted by another set of smiling faces--her husband, Jordan, a firefighter with the FDNY, and her almost 3-year-old son, Mackery.
Prior to leaving Florida, my mother had told me of the events in Brooklyn for the day, including what is apparently the largest block party in the city, Atlantic Antic. Stretching over 14 blocks, the Antic consisted of vendors of every kind lining the streets. Everything from pizza and jewelry to baked goods and arts and crafts were at our beck and call. However, only one thing in particular stood out to Mackery, and that didn't include the reluctant visit to the face-painting stand: the moon bounce. After jumping around with a new friend, the exploring continued, and while Lane and I stopped for the "shiny jewelry" stands, Grandmother and Jordan gave into the enticing aromas wafting from the stands of a local bakery. With cheesecake, fruit tart, and apple turnovers in hand, we headed back to the car to return home.
At around 4 p.m., having been roughly 10 hours since breakfast, our hunger prompted a phone call to the pizzeria conveniently located across the street from the brownstone. It's a good thing the ladies in my family like bread, because Jordan unfortunately forgot about my dairy allergy, and ordered the "baked ziti" pie--basically, a cheesy pasta dish, cooked in a heavy cream sauce, on top of a crust and covered with more cheese. Quickly deemed a "guy's pizza," Lane and I stuck to the crusty pieces, which were perfectly crisp and delicious, while Grandmother and the boys enjoyed their slices, toppings and all.
By this time, our internal clocks were winding down, so we decided to forgo bar-hopping in favor of Netflix...just kidding. :)
With Kate and Leopold playing in the background, we soon awoke to an interjection from a hungry baby Cate, only to find ourselves an hour into the film with no recollection whatsoever of even starting the movie. This prompted us to abandon our relaxed positions on the couch in favor of the comforts of the guest room, where we were out like lights as soon as our heads hit the pillows.
When we awoke on Monday morning, we were greeted with the promise of another beautiful day...

Part 3 coming later this week, promise!

Charlie Takes Manhattan

...or, perhaps more aptly, Charlie is taken with Manhattan.

At the end of September, I found out about an opportunity for me, Grandmother in tow, to visit my favorite city in the world: New York City. It had been not quite a year since I last took a bite out of the Big Apple, and I was itching to return. On Sunday, October 4, I boarded an early flight to NYC--Brooklyn, to be exact. I'd inform you of having to rise early, in order to leave the house at 4 in the morning to reach the Orlando airport by 5, but, truth be told, I don't think I even went to sleep. I lived up to my concierge duties for the day, giving my Grandmother the 3 a.m. wake-up call she politely requested, having known full-well that my excitement would most certainly override any desire for slumber.

With everything to do but sleep, we were both able to properly prepare for take-off: hair and makeup to a T, and dressed to the nines to boot. (Or, in my case, in boots--riding boots, to be precise.) Boarding passes in hand, we arrived at our gate with plenty of time to spare, only to be greeted by the enticing aroma of Starbucks coffee and Cinnabon pastries. Wisely skipping the latter, we opted for 2 black coffees and some bananas and fruit cups from the newsstand.

Despite a few rough patches in the sky, we had a smooth flight, spending the time skimming through our travel novels of choice, and, of course, the New York Times and Post. Before we knew it, the Manhattan skyline was peeking through the morning clouds--a virtual billboard for the adventures to come. With my bouts of anxious anticipation causing my mind to believe the landing was taking longer than it actually was, we gathered our carry-ons and made our way to the ground transportation area of JFK, where we were eventually greeted by the smiling faces of my beautiful cousin, Lane, and her perfect newborn daughter, Cate. Hugs and warm greetings were exchanged, and we were soon being whisked away to begin our adventures in the city that never sleeps...

Stay tuned for Part 2...

Worries, Be Gone.

Do you ever find yourself seeking out a sign from the universe? Something that assures you that everything will be okay?
I received a sign yesterday--well, at least, that's what I think it was. I was 2 miles into my run, around 6 in the morning. While running (shuffling?) uphill, I looked up into the clear, navy sky--splattered with stars and moons and planets--when I saw a falling star. Immediately, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace; that everything would work out, everything would be okay. In the blink of an eye, I felt the majority of my worries disappear. Needless to say, I started weeping. [It might be best to inform you readers that I, Charlie, am what is known as a "crier." Meaning: I cry easily when my heart is touched. No need to be alarmed.] Picture this: pounding the pavement, iPod blaring Jay-Z, and tears on top of that--it must have been quite a sight! Thank goodness it was still dark out!
The timing of this "sign," if you will, was perfect. Too often do we seek out what the universe will show us, all in due time. Just another example of how patience truly is a virtue...

A Change of Mind

"Oh Lord, please lead me from unreal to real,
From darkness to light,
From death to immortality.
Let there be peace, peace, and perfect peace."

--the Om Asato Ma Mantra

This is, without a doubt, my favorite saying. I repeat it to myself on good days and bad days alike. It's one of those thoughts that bring about a peaceful, serene feeling; one that envelops you with calm and balance. It's healing properties are undeniable--give it a try sometime, and you'll see what I mean. :)

Following up on my last post, I am happy to report that I only had one day of feeling "trapped" out of the last seven, which is a good start. It's so incredibly cliche, but each day really is what you make it. Simple, mundane things like starting each day with good music, a good phone call with a beautiful soul (a.k.a. Grandma), or a good hug from a loved one can truly carry you through the day, if you let it. It's definitely tough not to let mankind bring you down--I guess you just have to try to bring mankind up with you!

Prime example: Last night at yoga, I lost my all-time favorite, most comfortable hoodie (also mentioned in my last post). It was bright yellow, with colorful birds flying across the chest, a peace sign on the back shoulder, and the phrase "Peace + Love = Happiness" on the arm. I don't know if I misplaced it in the studio, or if it fell out of my open bag and onto the street as I dashed to meet up with a lovely classmate. Either way, I was devastated. I would not be lying if I said tears were shed. I even returned to the scene of the...crime?...and taped little notes up to the doors of the businesses in the area, begging for a phone call, should the jacket somehow reappear.

This morning, after suffering through the night (Note: I always sleep with this jacket on, hoodie pulled tight around my face, keeping me, in my mind, safe.), I awoke to this thought: "I hope whoever picked it up is someone who truly needs it. Someone who might not have a decent outer garment for the upcoming cooler months. I hope it keeps them as warm as it has kept me." A highly unusual thought for this individual, but it amuses me nonetheless. I have yet to hear if the jacket has been found, but I'll keep you readers updated.

In the meantime, I am off to yoga, jacket-less. But at least I am not without what I hope is, a kind soul.

XO

Trapped

Ever have one of those days where a hoodie and sweats justs begs to be your uniform? Today was one of those days for me. My yoga pants just did not want to be ignored, and who am I to deny them their wish? ;)
Comfort level aside, today also had in store many battles of mind and heart. One of my biggest challenges lately has been allowing one day to overshadow the next. For example, if I have a bad Tuesday, automatically my mind is convinced that Wednesday will be equally as bad, if not worse, and so I prepare myself accordingly for the gloomy day to come. Why can't I accept the fact that bad days happen? Subsequently, why can't I view each day as a clean slate, and strive to make it good?
A lovely friend of mine posted this quote on her Facebook yesterday, and it really spoke to my current state of mind:
"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
Oddly enough, it's the smallest things that I seem to have the hardest time not beating myself up over. Due to an acid reflux flare-up last night, I missed yoga, and I was so hard on myself! Granted, I love yoga, and cannot (and refuse to) live without it; but these things happen, and I need to learn to take them in stride. Maybe then I'll stop being a prisoner of my own insecurities and fears...



Happy to say I'm now off to yoga... :)

xx
C