Not Just A City

Not just a city, but a wild metropolis. A collision of cultures and lifestyles.  An explosion of light and noise and movement.  A place to lose yourself completely.  And while you're looking for yourself, a place to find a world bigger than you ever imagined.

Not just falafels, but New York pizza and frozen yogurt and a waffle with strawberries and the most delicious burger and chocolate shake that have ever graced my mouth (Shake Shack, I am a convert for life).  

Not just a hostel, but a welcome face-full of cool air conditioning, a neighborhood full of lively bars and a room full of lovely girls from England and Brazil.

Not just any weekend :).

West Orange and the Lab of Mr. Edison

My fellow intern Amanda and I spent our first full day in West Orange hiking to and from the lab site of none other than Thomas Edison himself.  I both loved and was horrified by the tour of his chemical lab--safety standards were nonexistent! My favorite part though had to be seeing the elderly couples nodding their heads in gentle remembrance as old tunes blared from the demonstrator's phonograph. 

West Orange is beautiful; its lush green hills and old brick neighborhoods  resemble West Virginia's, although with a dash of South American flavor.  We passed around five Peruvian restaurants on our three mile walk alone!

On the way back I caught sight of the peak of this cathedral.  Amanda humored me and we hunted it down.  I'm a sucker for Gothic architecture; I think the only thing that could have made me happier is if I had been allowed up into the tower.

We wrapped up the day with some shopping at Whole Foods Market, dessert with the internship director's family and some relaxing in the hot tub.  Looking forward to my first day on the job tomorrow!

Snow Canyon and My Weekend in George

I loved this desert-y escape from reality. Trip complete with blasting music and cruising cars, famous frozen custard, hot tubs and freezing pools, homemade pizza, glow-in-the-dark caves and soaring red rocks, funny boys, quote-able movies, endless rounds of murder in the dark, tennis on a blustery day and no chance of melanoma (or a beautiful, glowing tan) thanks to the overcast weather.

Washington's Wharf

Today we returned to a haunt of my childhood: George Washington's Mount Vernon Estate.   As we trekked along the winding gravel paths leading us from Washington's mansion to the slave quarters and the dock on the Potomac river, Mom described forgotten memories from the time when we lived in the neighboring town of Alexandria. The Potomac took my breath away.  It was silent and gray and still in the soft December sun.

Waterton

Today I rediscovered some pictures I took this summer at one of my favorite National Parks in one of my favorite places in the world: Waterton, Alberta, Canada. 

Polaroid

Tall, dark and handsome, what else does he need? Oh yeah, maybe some Poladroid! Some beachy portraits from my family's day at Little Bow Lake with some editing help from this sweet app. Even if you're not a fan of the "retro" photo quality, the little polaroid camera that appears on your desktop and shoots out your photos to allow them to "develop" in front of your eyes is so worth it. Download it here.

The Ranch

We stayed at a close family friend's ranch in Southern Alberta this week and I managed to get my hands on a camera for the first time in a long while.  I couldn't let these beautiful scenes escape me.  Something about jagged mountains, flowing waves of grass, and sweet little blue-doored cabins tucked away in secret meadows fill me with elation and a delicious sense of mystery.  The camera is my eye to the bubbling life and piercing yet elusive sense of reminiscence beneath it all.  If only I could capture it better.

More to follow.

Brown and Blue New York

Back from a lovely jaunt to New York City with the Stanford women (namely, Nana, Mom and Anne)!

Throughout the trip we were constantly bombarded by street merchants eager to sell us anything from a bus tour to a scarf or hot dog.  It's pretty easy to see how these aggressive salespeople recognize tourists. I imagine their "Tourist Checklist" would look something like this:

Walks in a zig-zag pattern with head turned up to the sky

Camera and posed photo ops

Nose stuck in a map

Stands at a corner looking about in confusion

Ambles into the crosswalk just as the taxis rev their engines

Bumbles against New York walking traffic

Fails several attempts to slide Subway card and pass the gate

 Being the sleek city women we are, we NEVER gave these sneaky marketers any reason to utilize their smooth sales techniques. However, when one impetuous young peddler tried to draw us into his bike carriage for a ride through Central Park, I thought I'd play it street smart.

"Do I LOOK like a tourist to you??"  I retorted with a smile.

"Oh, no, not at all," he quickly assured.  "Even natives can enjoy a ride in the park!"

Arlington

Arlington National Cemetary: a solemn tribute to the many Americans who have sacrificed for this country, a chronicle of American history and a resting place of honor.  As I glanced out upon headstone after headstone, I was deeply struck with the thought of how each of the men and women laying beneath the ground must have been loved and missed.  In this beautiful site, I witnessed the changing of the guard ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknowns, and lingered at the Kennedy's simple, yet dignified memorial.

A Revolutionary, A Monty, and Mother Goose

My spine tingles as I stroll through cemetaries and imagine lives of those below. Their stories create a great mystery which is heightened by the wistfulness and fascination that bubbles within me.
A humble prairie cemetary filled with quiescent dignity stands among my memories. As the rain torrented down, I dashed from the car and clung to the iron-clad gate draped with ivy. Peering at the headstones ahead, I watched the grasses gently bend with the rain to the ground.
 I still have vivid memories of a tour through a musty old crypt beneath an Austrian cathedral. Skeletons lined the torch-lit walls, and the ceiling seemed to close in on us as the open coffins came into sight. A tour just days later lead me through an elegant cemetary memorializing some of Europe's greatest classical composers.  Each gravestone towered like a throne in remembrance of this genre's most highly acclaimed royalty.
Yet another cemetary took me surprise this summer: the King's Chapel Burial Ground residing deep within  the center of Boston.  This cemetary is characterized  by the engraved skulls on each dark, crumbling headstone which casts a gothic glow about the yard.  The ancient lot itself is encased by busy city streets and towering business offices; a resting place within the center of the bustling world.  Created in 1630, the burial ground contains occupants such as John Winthrop,  the first Puritan Governer of Massachusets, the midnight rider Paul Revere, John Hancock, a Mary "Mother" Goose,  and many of Benjamin Franklin's relatives.  Interestingly enough, a Montgomerie gravestone lay among names such as these.