Don’t Let the Blond Hair Fool You

Since returning to New York in October, I have tried to retain the traveling spirit I had while I was on the road. When I can, I carry my camera and attempt to capture the wonder that is New York City. Here are a few of my favorite photos from the last few months. Click on the images to see larger versions.

Worshippers at the Mahayana Temple celebrating the Lunar New Year

My street after a snowstorm

Cocktails at Apotheke

Vintage subway car at the Transit Museum

At Obama's New York campaign headquarters

Saturday afternoon in Chinatown

I like my Prospect-Lefferts Gardens neighborhood. Really, I do, or at least that’s what I tell myself. PLG is right by Prospect Park, the zoo and the botanic garden. Authentic Jamaican beef patties, Trinidadian roti and oxtail soup are available just outside my door. Aside from those exotic options and the local pizza joint, I lament the lack of restaurants in my area. Do I really have to go all the way to Park Slope—or even worse, the East Village—just to have a nice brunch?

I’d walked by Cafe Enduro at least twice a day, every day, since moving to Brooklyn in October, yet I’d never been in. I wish I’d stopped in sooner, because the moment I walked in, I stopped merely tolerating my neighborhood and fell in love with it.

Cafe Enduro is a cozy little spot, one that makes you feel like you’ve left New York City for the day. Old-school rainbow Christmas lights and decorative wood beams add character to this Mexican joint. I was there at 1:30 p.m. on a Sunday for brunch and got a table right away, a feat that would have been impossible in the Slope or the Village. The prices also reflected that we weren’t in Park Slope anymore. The average price for a brunch entree, not including coffee, was $9.

I tucked into a generous portion of the fluffiest French toast I’ve sampled in ages. The basic serving is $7; adding strawberries and bananas to mine raised the price to $9.50. I don’t know how they managed to make the French toast so soft, fluffy, and almost gooey at the same time, but I didn’t ask questions, I just ate.

Cafe Enduro has a breakfast hash on the menu, not something you see every day. My friend tried the turkey version on a recommendation from our waitress, who said it was “well-spiced.” The hash came topped with an egg and, like my French toast, quickly disappeared.

Next time I’m there for brunch, I’ll try the eggs benedict with chipotle hollandaise. (Eggs benedict are the true measure of a brunch place.) By night Cafe Enduro is a Mexican cantina, so I look forward to sampling their margaritas, enchiladas, and banana fritters with mango cream for dessert.

Note to all my NYC friends: I’ve been coming to your neighborhoods, but now you have a good reason to meet me in my neck of the woods!

Cafe Enduro // 51 Lincoln Road, Brooklyn, 11225 // (718) 282-7097 // Q, B, or S to Prospect Park

Is it too late to look back on 2008, although we’re already seven days into 2009? I hope not.

2008 was an unforgettable year for me. I jumped out of a perfectly good plane, dined with the chief of a Fijian village and appeared on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

I danced the samba during carnival in Brazil, hiked on a glacier in New Zealand and parasailed in Argentina. I met people from all over the world. I crossed the international date line twice and the equator five times.

I cheered for Botafogo at Maracana Stadium in Rio de Janeiro. I drank aguardiente, Fernet, caiprinhas and kava. I learned how drive on the left side of the road and where to find the Southern Cross in the Southern sky. I got paid to bake cookies and became a Lost Girl. I learned that a visa isn’t a credit card, it’s a major hassle. I got hooked on Vegemite, alfajores and ceviche. I read books by Leo Tolstoy, Jules Verne, Joseph Heller, Isabel Allende and Bill Bryson.

I found paradise. I waddled with penguins, fed kangaroos, held a koala and played with monkeys. I danced the tango, made empanadas from scratch and spoke Spanish with a distinctly Argentine accent. I waded into the Indian Ocean. I found myself in the middle of a major Islamic city at sundown while the faithful broke their Ramadan fast.

I declared my independence and leaned on my wonderful, amazing friends. I started running. I channeled Cameron Diaz for Halloween and filmed a vignette for the WE network. I dialed Florida, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Nevada for Obama and helped win an election. I met a band named “God or Julie,” I was quoted in New York Magazine, and I was sketched on my way home to Brooklyn. I got a column and started a new blog. I turned thirty.

2009 may not be filled with as many exotic destinations, but I hope it’s just as exciting. I hope that when I look back on 2009, my list includes, “I found a job I love.” Maybe I’ll throw some trapeze lessons in for good measure.

Happy new year, everyone. May it be a happy one indeed.

The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on January 6, 2008.

One of the things that I like about being the Brooklyn Stinger is that it gives me the perfect excuse to explore parts of Brooklyn that I otherwise might not visit. I’ve been spending entirely too much time near my workplace in Park Slope, so when it was time to meet my friend Mark for a drink, I headed over to Clinton Hill. If you have to ask where the hell Clinton Hill is, you’re not the only one. Apparently it’s nestled between Fort Greene (home to Target and the Atlantic Terminal) and Bedford-Stuyvesant (home to the Notorious B.I.G.).

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The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on December 29, 2008.

Happy new year, everybody! As 2008 draws to a close, it’s time to start thinking of New Year’s resolutions for 2009. Burn off those Christmas cookies. Climb out of debt. Get a better job. All those resolutions sound like hard work! Let’s add some fun stuff to the 2009 to-do list.

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Ryan over at Single-ish recently asked, “do you make birthday goals?” Birthdays are always a time to reflect, but turning thirty has really made me stop and think about the state of my life. There are a lot of things that I would like to change, so perhaps this is the year when I should set goals for December 10, 2009. Though my birthday was a few weeks ago, it’s never too late to set some goals.

Right now I am working as a waitress, single, and renting a room in a house in Brooklyn. My life isn’t exactly perfect, but I should cut myself some slack. Coming back from a year abroad involves two major stressors: finding a job and a place to live. I am doing all that while simultaneously dealing with the end of a five-year relationship. All things considered, I am doing OK, but this is not the life I want.

After several suffocating desk jobs and a year of traveling, I wasn’t ready to rejoin the corporate world, so I got a job at a restaurant. But now that I have been working evenings for the past six weeks, I see the flaw in my plan. I never see my friends, and I am lonely. This loneliness has been a greater motivation for me to get a different job than money or ambition. I’ve learned that settling for the first job that comes along can be the quickest path to misery, so I am going to be very selective about the employment I take, even in this economy. Ideally I would like to work as a producer for an entertainment or lifestyle website, or pay the bills by proofreading and doing a bit of freelance writing. Universe, this is what I want; now I could use some help.

I recently broke off my engagement, so now I am single by choice. When I got back to New York City after a year of traveling with my fiancé, I went on a few dates simply for the novelty of it. Consciously I knew that I should be single for a while, but subconsciously I was seeking the steady companionship of a long relationship. Eventually I realized that the rest of my life was in disarray, and that the energy I was using on dating needed to be shifted to finding a better job and spending more time with my friends. Someday I hope to find someone who is worth ending my dating hiatus.

I came back from my trip several thousand dollars in credit card debt, hence why I am renting a small room in a house. I miss having an apartment with a living room, but as long as this debt is hanging over my head, I can’t move. In the past I would have used the ostrich method of financial management: to bury my head in the sand. Now I am tracking my expenditures, opening all my financial statements and bills, and actually reading them. Last month I caught two errors that saved me almost $40. Every spare penny is going to pay off my debt.

December 10, 2009 will be a great day. I can see it already. I’ll be gainfully employed in a job that I love, happily single or not, surrounded by great friends, and free of credit card debt. It’s up to me to make it happen.

The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on December 23, 2008.

Times are tough. The Dow is down, prices are up, our wallets are empty. But we’re not going to let the recession keep us from enjoying the greatest city in the world. So let me present my Chrismukkah gift to you: the Ultimate Wallet-Friendly New York Date. (It also goes over well with out-of-town relatives.)

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One of my dreams is to see my name in print in New York Magazine, preferably in byline form.   (Two years with my name on the advertising masthead do not count.)  This week, I am halfway there.     I was quoted in their annual Reasons to Love New York issue, after answering a call for submissions on nymag.com.  It’s one of the few reasons that is not also listed on their website, but you won’t hear me complaining.

On page 41, reason number 10 to love New York:  “Because sooner or later everybody comes to New York: every band, every friend, everybody I want to see.”

I could go on for ages with my reasons to love New York, but here are a few more reasons to love this city.

The eight-piece brass brand that plays in the concourse of the Union Square subway station.  (Have you seen these guys?  They are amazing.)  They remind me to slow down and listen to the music.

I look around on me on the subway and I see people reading newspapers in Mandarin, Russian, Spanish, and Hebrew, and I marvel that we are all sitting next to each other peacefully.

Five dumplings for $1.25 on Elizabeth St in Chinatown, and lamb gyros at the Halal trucks in midtown.

Ethiopian food at Awash on E. 6th Street, and all the hawkers for the Indian restaurants on the same street.

I love the view of the Brooklyn Bridge, downtown, and the Statue of Liberty in the distance as I cross the Manhattan bridge on the subway.   It’s breathtaking, and I see it every day.

New York is really just one big small town.    Where else would you constantly run into friends on the street?

Hitting golf balls at the Chelsea Piers driving range.   The sun is setting over the Hudson, and the Statue of Liberty is quietly watching the harbor.

With three international airports, I can get a direct flight to anywhere.    Layovers are so provincial.

Be sure to check out New York Magazine’s Reasons to Love New York.    What are your Reasons to Love New York?

The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on December 16, 2008.

Everyone, even our own Bruce Springsteen of Queens, is raving about Slumdog Millionaire. While I haven’t yet seen the movie, I do have something in common with the main character. Earlier this year I was a contestant on an episode of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, and now I am going to tell you how you can get on the show too.

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Last night I took the B train back to Brooklyn.   Without any reading material or urge to write in my journal, I passed the time by looking around the car at my fellow passengers.   I noticed that the guy across from me was doing the same thing, except that he was committing his observations to paper.   My neighbors were completely oblivious as he drew their images into his notebook.  He wasn’t trying to hide what he was doing, but no other passengers were aware.   I watched him draw the two guys sitting next to me, and laughed to myself because they had no idea what was going on.    Was I the only person who was watching this show?

Then the artist saw me watching him draw, and turned his pen to me.  Unlike his previous subjects, I knew that I was being sketched.   I looked at the ads that lined the ceiling, at the people to his left and right, at the newspaper on the floor, all to keep myself from dissolving into a fit of the giggles.     A girl standing by the door saw him sketching me, and smiled at me as if to say, “Yeah, girl, it looks good.”

He finished the drawing just before the train pulled into my stop, which was coincidentally his as well.    He offered me the drawing, I accepted and thanked him.   As we exited the train he explained that he had spent the day teaching kids to draw faces.    We walked out of the station and went our separate ways into the rainy night.