1. Relentless excitement that anything could happen. Everyday is like a Christmas present waiting to be opened.
2. When it snows.
3. Nostalgia for the grittiness of New York City in the Seventies and Eighties
4. Bars I frequented for over twenty years that are still standing. Taking my twenty-one year old niece there, taking my husband there. Realizing that when he and I lived here we were in the same restaurants and bars all over the city without ever meeting.
5. The places Jacquelyn Onassis had the great sense to protect and renovate, Grand Central Terminal, the Reservoir in the park. Money and power has the exception to meet taste and inelligence.
6. The dogs in Central Park around the sailboat pond.
7. Imagining that I get locked in the Met Museum overnight.
8. Hanging out on the staircase outside of the Met.
9. Tacos at Tacombi
10. The cappucino at Stumptown.
11. The marinara pizza at Driggs Pizza in Williamsburg.
13. The license to wear anything practically anywhere.
14. The excitement that bubbles out of every sidewalk.
15. Canal street and the overwhemling amount of useless minutiae
16. How the city can simultaneously and poignantly mark the history of the city, the history of my life there and the emotional history of my good and bad memories.
17. Bergdorf Goodman, the building, the fine-ness sprinkled like fairy dust over everything in it, the sense that it is more of a museum than a store.
18. The authenticity New York City breeds no matter how dirty or corrupt or downgraded the venture.
19. The way a New Yorker will forget social and financial barriers to enjoy other people in public spaces.
20. That New Yorkers are crusty on the outside but warm and caring just beneath the surface.
21. The view.