I hate New York City in the summer. Always have. The subways become sweltering saunas, the streets waft up a trashy stench. I got heat stroke a couple of weeks ago for the first time after hanging out in a Brooklyn beer garden for a few hours (I had one beer, per usual, and tons of water).
But somehow - in the past week only - I've been on some great NYC summer dates. My heart has been put through a blender a couple of times and the city has played the part of a good friend. The air has been breezy at night. I've spent time with people I love, really good friends. I saw a movie with my friend Dayna and then we decided to hit up Red Farm on the Upper West Side and walk the Brooklyn Bridge home. I walked up to William Greenberg on Madison for the best black and white cookies ever (it's something you have to eat in your life), then renewed my lapsed Met membership. I had dinner with my siblings at Beyoglu on the Upper East Side, with great outdoor seating, falafel, and hummus. I went to a baby shower at Akwaaba B&B in historic Bed-Stuy and was blown away at how gorgeous the neighborhood was, an area I had never explored.
I still hate NYC in the summer - the buzzing air conditioner that makes my throat dry, the need to shower three times a day - but somehow life feels all fleeting and short lately. So I'm grateful. And I know how lucky I am to travel.