On Loneliness & Negronis
If I'm honest, it's been something of a lonely summer. Not entirely lonely - mostly hilarious actually - but I've had a few moments of being like 'holy fck, I thought I was just strolling through Washington Square Park but really these hydrangeas are going to make me cry and Prince is dead and I'm alone and ahhHHHhhh.' (And let's not even talk about the 4 week stint where I watched "Lemonade" at 3am repeatedly...). Weirdly enough my #YYF adventures have anchored things a bit, either putting shape around the anxiety I'm feeling by giving me a vehicle to explore my mood or by bringing me into conversation with the kind souls who make my twisted little heart cramp with happiness e.g. my friends.
Each of the photos below are a snapshot from a foodie adventure which has made me feel like Carrie Bradshaw, Joan Didion, a Neapolitan 80 year in a veil and rosary, a florist in the stalls of Mexico City, a yenta, a healer, a therapist, a loveless spinster, a truly happy lady, or just me - true blue - kinda bored, kinda silly, kinda wise.
From an actual #YYF perspective, I would say some of the highlights have included: having a solo slice at Joe's on a hot summer night and feeling the feels, sharing a "sunkissed sour" at Clover Club with my neighbors and discussing the merits of Mexico City, celebrating my girl Delmo's engagement with frozen negronis at Alta Linea, and lonely girl bagel breakfasts on my roof with Van Leewan iced coffee and feminist literature of varying complexity.
This post is a toast to the lil snippets which have been the backdrop of my summer - the good, the bad, the ugly. As it turns out, YYF is sometimes only a vehicle for my Xanga style reminiscing but whatevah. I'm young, I'm raw, I should have a bottle of Pinot Blanc chilling in my fridge at this very moment.