Southern Thailand is a dream. A hot, sweaty, sandy dream. I’m pretty sure there’s a permanent layer of sand on my scalp and I’m totally ok with it.
I spent the first 5 nights in Krabi in a hostel that was literally a dream. There were puppies, an ocean view empty of tourist, a swing and puppies. So. Many. Puppies. Continue reading
Life is a dream.
Not necessarily in the way you might think, however.
These last few weeks I’ve been living in a state of shock that have made my experiences thus far feel as though I’m dreaming. Moving from moment to moment barely recognizing that I am in fact living in a reality — one that I’m having a hard time grasping.
I was working from a coffee shop just below the hostel I’m staying yesterday morning and a wave of gratitude the size of Mount Everest swallowed me. I’m writing from an adorable coffee shop in the middle of Taipei. Please, nobody pinch me — I don’t want to wake up! Continue reading
According to Wikipedia Stinky Tofu is (Chinese: 臭豆腐; pinyin: chòudòufu) is a Chinese form of fermented tofu that has a strong odor. It is usually sold at night markets or roadside stands as a snack, or in lunch bars as a side dish, rather than in restaurants.
I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say ‘Stinky’ is not enough of a descriptive adjective for just how smelly this tofu actually is. Stinky is a baby’s soiled diaper or pair of socks due for a washing. This tofu is not just stinky. Continue reading
Ok, I doubt that was the hardest, but despite the ease of the Taiwan train & metro system today definitely was not easy.
The first day is done. Holy shit, I am TIRED and the shower I just took may have been the most glorious shower of all showers. Getting friendly with the whole grunge scenario is definitely going to be a challenge for me.
Here were the things I thought and wrote about on my phone throughout the day (I also have some jittery videos on my Instagram story. More of those to come.): Continue reading
I woke up at 3am.
I have this weird surreal-ish feeling… Like is this real life? The loud speaker at JFK’s Terminal 1 has been adamant about letting us know there’s a final boarding call. For what? Hard to tell. The family (?) of four sitting across the food court look they’ve been to hell and back — although the older lady is sporting a stellar black and blue outfit with sparkles up and down her arms so I’m not mad about it. Continue reading
And yes, I am definitely counting.
I’ve been planning and thinking about this trip for over two years. That’s a long time… At least in my little world. But for as much time as I’ve spent dreaming of the sparkling blue waters teeming with fishes while I lay aboard a floating device of some sort sipping a cold beer (I’m telling you, I’ve thought about this A LOT), it never actually felt like reality. Like not even a little. Not even after I said goodbye to my home in Brooklyn. Not until literally just like a moment ago. Continue reading
This is it. My last morning in my beautiful Brooklyn brownstone apartment. The sky is gray and the naked tree branches outside seem to be swaying silently outside of the bay window. I’ll miss that bay window the most I think. I’ve spent many mornings sipping coffee, reading or stretching and preparing myself for a day in the city. This place has been my oasis – a daily retreat from the noise, however magical. On the other end of the living room, my bedroom looks odd with a few of my things left over for the gal who’s taking my place. The blanket still on the bed, the rustic blue mirror still sits on the dresser, but the floor is mostly empty – all of my shoes either tossed or packed into my suitcase (how the hell I managed to get all of my stuff in there is still a miracle). There’s no traces of my pink gym bag or drying hand wraps anywhere. Only the few pieces of clothes I have laid out for myself to change into for my flight to Orlando. It’s oddly quiet. People are probably still tucked away in their homes for the holidays. Only an occasional passing truck can be heard just outside – a big difference from the usual honks and hollers of the center of Park Slope. I’ve been thinking about the things I’ll miss most. This apartment – this neighborhood – is at the top of that mental list. When (and if) I return to NYC, I hope to get this lucky again. Continue reading