Happy Father's Day...to THE WORLD'S GREATEST MAN.

I know everyone posts about how great their father is, but sadly, I have to admit mine wins. Hands down.

My father came from a middle-class working family. As a part-Japanese little boy in Broderick  (a poorer part of Sacramento which at the time was mostly white), he faced racism, classism, and yet managed, by his own merit to receive offers at dozens of prestigious colleges; accepting a UC Regents at UC Davis, to live at home...passing up Ivy Leagues.

He had worked the strawberry fields in high school to save money, gas stations and even after making it, during our great recession, working a second job (when he had an MBA) in the evenings, so my mom could stay home, and we had our two houses. And our very expensive private boarding school. And my golf. And my brother's music..

My Dad is funny, sometimes too loud, but I think in part, it is because he merely wants to be accepted. What he does not already know, is that he is. Every one who has met him, loves him. Every one who is his friend, has been for decades, and I as his daughter am only half as good as I am, because of him.

So to my father, who may never read this, thank you. Thank you those long hours, those millions miles you have traveled on American Airlines. The days when you think you cannot keep going, and keep that to yourself, know that Scott and I love you, and you deserved so much more in this world than you have gotten so far....

(On the Greatest Day of My Life, a trip to London's West End, to see for the first time, Les Miserables....with two bottles of Veuve)

Religiously "covered" in NYC

The one thing I find really neat about my marriage is the fact my husband grew up Jewish. He may no longer identify as "Jewish" (as he says), he has brought some neat traditions, and we do have some shared heritage. We are both part Russian.

As a devout Catholic, as I have mentioned on this blog a few times before, I love NOTHING more than a good 'ol Latin mass. And I love my family icons that grace my home now (after generations of being passed down). But I also love his early faith, and so we now have a mezuzah, too.

I figure, if I get to Heaven, I am covered ;) And at least in this somewhat exciting but dangerous city, I am "covered".

A few 'ol friends...

I finally, FINALLY met two LONGTIME blogging friends (one lives ON my block). Teddi Ginsberg (of Teddi Set Go and Jewish Girl in a WASPS Clothing), and Sydney Bonivo.

My first comment was "you're real!" to Teddi. We spent over an hour catching up, and having a few good laughs and cries over the course of our friendship...which has spanned nearly a decade.

The restaurant Teddi picked was adorable, too, located on our street, a few blocks down, in a garden-level apartment under a classic pre-war brownstone. If you are in the city, at any point, please make it a priority to go to The East Pole!

Of Mice and Men

A few weeks ago, during my first days in the city, I went to see  Of Mice and Men. Now, while I was in love, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking of a comment an old friend at Cambridge made, about plays, and musicals...that they were "low brow". Only symphonies, operas, and ballet are considered "high brow" he would often say. 

So it was liberating, to sit an enjoy champagne from a plastic cup, at this old theatre, and not at all feel judged. I only wish my husband was there to see it too...

An update on our apartment...what

In NYC, it is no surprise that unless you're a billionaire (not even millionaire), you probably live in a smaller apartment. We are in a classic, pre-war (1910) walk-up. The 4th floor, mind you. But, it has some details that a lot of homes throughout the U.S. lack...

Exposed brick, original molding, original shutters, beautiful (and bowing) hardwood. I love it all, with the exception of the tiny bathroom. But, in reality, it is sometimes shocking to learn this is a $1 million dollar apartment.

So here are a few pics of our apartment, and our new 'hood.

My street.

My Lanvin Collection (1/2 of it)

                                                      

I love the Tenement details, wish it was not closed though. 

View (we almost were in the far Trump Palace)

Lillian August Coffee Table (my dream). Couch left after a day. Bedroom is 100% West Elm.

A classic day in SoHo

Yesterday I got glamoured up. Courtesy of Fredric Fekkai's Soho salon (which comped my stylish cut), then got some dessert at the only place to do so (Laduree), and ended with Russian food. 

All within 2 hours.

Some days it is hard not LOVE NYC. 

I am a New Yorker, or am I?

Yes, after nearly a decade, I find myself back in the big city. And for some reason, not sure why, I have a deep sense that I am here for good. That is saying a lot, given the fact that in the last decade I have moved 8 times. Not kidding. 8 homes. I have lived in Orange County, Los Angeles, Cambridge-England, Los Angeles again, Seattle, Phoenix...and finally back here. Am I missing anywhere?

Moving is taxing on the wallet, a relationship, and emotional health in general. Making friends, then leaving them, is hard...

I am hoping to make this a more positive transformation, now in lieu of my down-to-earth Harlem hood, I am living in the upscale 10065 UES. No longer is 125th, and the Apollo my hangouts, I now shop at Bloomingdale's, have croissants at Laduree, browse Fred Leighton and Tiffany a mere few blocks away, and my food, well, it is far from the cheap burger joint on 117th Franklin Douglas Blvd.

But some parts of me are the same. I find that I still enjoy being a student "hair model" at upscale salons (I had a haircut by a friend's salon in Soho), to save a bit of money. I love driving through the park in a cab with the window down. And nothing smells more exotic (do not laugh) than the subway (which I now sometimes accidentally refer to as the Tube)...

A decade ago, I grew more in one year, than I have ever had before (perhaps Cambridge was a close second). I hope to exceed that growth this year, and the year after...

So while I am not a New Yorker, I find, there is something very neat when I can say in response to the question "Did you just move here?" with "I just moved back".

It feels good to be home.