I feel I’ve reached a halfway point on my Summer Detox; my body’s trying to adjust to the constant influx of substantial sodium-soaked sausages at the dining halls and the mustard marinated tofu I’ve been making for myself for the past several days in my kitchen. I doubt my stomach will ever fully understand the next and […]Read more "The bloating reminds the esophagus of Cuban bread."
I’ve been eating pounds of spinach out of a dining hall every single day for the past week and I’m still bloated. Whether it be the makeshift salad bar with artisan arugula and artichoke that’s never rinsed and left out on the counter to cool and sour, or the immense amounts of tofu I’ve decided […]Read more "The spinach never goes the way you wanted it to."
I’ve moved and I’ve settled, now, in the West Village, just two blocks shy of the Hudson River Park. I ran there this morning, from the Christopher Street Pier up past the Chelsea Piers where the Hudson River Park reemerges, willow brushing my face and that Hudson River Breeze tantalizing my eyeballs so much I […]Read more "Eggs and that breeze that trickles down the back of your neck."
Today is my last day living in my apartment in Alphabet City. No more running on the bridge dodging Hasids and hipsters, no more scouring the floor for quarters to acquire gelatinous dumplings, no more half an hour hikes to get to the nearest subway. No, tomorrow I return to my duty as an RA […]Read more "Back to the Hudson."
After the past week redefined calamity, I got back into Yoga Vida, the yoga studio I once escaped to Freshmen and Sophomore year when I was living in one of the dorms around Union Square. At the time, I had never been more proud of my stomach. The head instructor at the time was a […]Read more "Revert to the Humidity."
The closest thing I’ve found to personal space the entire Summer has been the table at the coffeeshop I’ve been working at, where, even there, I’ve found that I’ve had to leave a fraction of my plastic cup filled with watered down iced coffee in order to avoid some self-obsessed tortoise-shell Ray Ban wearing drip […]Read more "it makes a whore out of you."
Momofuku Milk Bar, 382 metropolitan ave, Williamsburg, NY The Bean, 147 1st Ave New York, NY Every nine months or so you lose something and you’re left to reconcile with that newfound sore in your chest that grew from holding nothing else at night but that comforter you’d originally never hold a black light to. I’ve working to move away […]Read more "the workspace brings about a nasty sunburn."