A walk on the wild side

And by wild, I mean Upper East.

My sister moving to Manhattan is the best thing that’s happened to me in recent memory.

I’m lucky to have a sister who is also my best friend. Our three year age gap feels smaller and smaller the older we get, and now that we’re both young, working women in the greatest city in the world, she’s my favorite person to spend time with.

I try to force her to hang out with me at least once a week. This tends to occur in her neck of the woods, which is Yorkville, aka north of 80th Street and east of Park Ave, not to dox her. The weekends are so lovely up there, and it’s nice for me to take a 90-block vacation every once in a while.

This particular Sunday, we had planned to go on a walk in the park surrounding Gracie Mansion since I had never been, make a stop at the dog park, and then grab sandwiches from Milano Market. One of my favorite coffee shops of the moment is Casita of Brooklyn, to which has become our ceremonial first stop when we hang out. When I come up from the Q across the street and see Grace’s face in the window, waiting for her text to say that she sees me back, it’s the start of a beautiful day.

We embarked to the East River where I made my inaugural visit to (the outside of) Gracie Mansion. I didn’t realize the surrounding grounds were such a beautiful park that had pockets of silence and tranquility that’s rare to find in this city.

Then we headed to the dog park. As two dogless girls, we enjoy the spectator sport that is switching between the outside of the fence in both of the small and large dog areas, picking out our favorites and snapping pics to send to our friends. After multiple corgis (Gracie’s favorite), pugs, vizslas, and French bulldogs, we escorted ourselves out before the park rangers could and made our way over to Sukoshi, a Korean skincare store. I walked out with three snail mucus sheet masks and three soothing ones, one of which is on my face as I write this.

The line for Milano Market was long and to be frank, discouraging, but Grace decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to wait it out, which inevitably I was thankful for once I was sat in the plush green grass of Central Park, housing a caesar salad wrap, ravenous after getting our steps in.

Once our time together was nearing its end, I was starting to figure out what my next move was. It was a beautiful day, the weather was temperate, and I could use a few more steps. So, I decided to walk the entire 5 miles, approximately 98 city blocks, that separates my apartment from Grace’s.

My route was 1st Avenue to Avenue A to the three block radius of my home. I realized I hadn’t spent much time down 1st, let alone 98 blocks down it, and boy, did I see the sights. I saw Cole Escola on 60th, the UN, and a Nerf Gun bullet on 19th. All in all, the Apple Health App is telling me that it was 20,000 steps, which I’m disappointed and skeptical of. That’s double my daily average and my legs are aching, so not too bad at the end of the day.

I’m currently listening to London Falling: A Mysterious Death in a Gilded City and a Family’s Search for Truth by Patrick Keefe on audiobook, and reading the second Off Campus book on Kindle to wind down from finishing American Psycho last week. I watched the movie the night I finished, and was extremely underwhelmed. I felt like they missed the mark and had not followed the plot enough to draw in millions of men aged 18-30 in Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs alone, let alone the rest of the world.

I’m enjoying London Falling and it got me through probably 20 blocks. I’ve hit a part that’s dense in back story that I should save for tomorrow at work when I just need white noise. I’m enjoying Off Campus #2 even more, which I don’t think I need to explain why.

In terms of television, I started Summer House from the beginning in light of the tenth season coming to a close. I’ve made it to the middle of season four, where Carl has rejected Lindsay, Amanda and Kyle are engaged but that’s not the only rock they’re on, and Jordan is still lying to everyone. He’s obviously gay. Here I go outing someone on the first day of Pride Month.

Summer is in full swing whether the weather or the date wants to admit it or not. My personal calendar shows for it, and that’s all that matters to me. Summer is a feeling more than a season.