If only...

If only I had any vacation left this year or several large bills laying about unaccounted for...because if I did, I'm pretty sure I'd book a vacation to one of the amazing places shown on the Unique Home Stays website. Oh, and you'd be invited (assuming we didn't max out on the # of people.)

New Paltz...not quite as far as I'd like to go...

I mean, where to start... A castle in the Scottish highlands? A beachfront estate in Cornwall? A luxury B&B in a Tuscan villa? Torture, pure torture.

If only. Maybe someday?

I am....

I am a bag lady. Not in the traditional sense where I live on the streets and consider a door stoop my hovel, but close enough. Also not in the romantic traveler way where I'm traipsing around Europe with my Louis Vuitton luggage hopping from Relais & Chateux to the next (let's be honest, the days of back packs and hostels are WAY past. Too many horror stories to find it fun and "campy." Crunch is not for me.) That being said, I'm a bag lady nonetheless - sans the LV,  my Longchamp must suffice. One day I'll upgrade, I swear. How did I come to this realization? Well, it's been coming for a time, but today, hiding under a building awning on the Upper East Side, attempting to avoid the deluge of rain pouring sideways at me, I was struggling with my huge bag to exchange my high heels for flip flops while attempting to stay upright as fellow commuters rammed into me (I swear it was intentional...damn New Yorkers!) Love them, hate them, now I'm one of them.

In the past few months, I've moved, I've been house sitting, I've lived in between my new apartment and my boyfriend's apartment, I've evacuated the city to escape a hurricane, I've escaped the city for weekend adventures, I've gotten up at 5:30 AM to get to the gym, departing home with all my accoutrement for the day ahead, and it's wearing on me. I've become a bag lady. And I swear one day it will catch up with me. I'm only 32, but there will come the day that I'll be holding my future child hunched over, the bag lady comeuppance.

I'm not alone. Many of my friends here in New York know this same lifestyle. We live out of our bags and have learned to travel (near and far) in the most economic manner, while still torturing our shoulders, backs, and arms. It just is. Somehow the boys manage in some alternative universe (including my boyfriend whose things appear in my bag...hmm.) One day we'll grow up and live in homes and have cars and not be bag ladies. Our friends in Minnesota and California do it, which of course means we will too, right? Um, Bueller, Bueller?

As a good friend reminded me today, I live in one of the coolest cities in the world. And despite the humidity, hurricanes, apparent earthquakes, rain deluges, snowmageddon's and what have you, being a bag lady in this place is a sacrifice I'm willing to make. But Connecticut is still calling....

Rumbles and Rain...what a Ruckus!

So this week we had an Earthquake and this weekend we're expecting a hurricane - Irene to be exact. My loving mother and aunt keep calling and texting urging me to put on my engineering hat and inspect the structural integrity of my home and office high rises and willing me to seek higher ground somewhere inland this weekend. It would be comical if it didn't look so black and dismal outside. 

And the earthquake - what a ruckus that caused! Sitting here at my desk on the 27th floor overlooking the East River and Manhattan, my building was literally bouncing up and down. The uproar that ensued on Facebook and Twitter was exceptional to say the least. This cartoon perfectly captured the essence of the social media onslaught. Having lived through several of the major earthquakes in Southern California, I was rather unfazed by the temblor, my apathy unjustly grounded in my West Coast roots. Buildings here aren't quite as new nor as structurally engineered to withstand earthquakes (like four times less sound.) Shake them around enough and thing bring some gale force winds (expecting up to 70 mph this weekend IN New York City) and, well, maybe we'll be leaving the city and seeking that higher ground anyway. Just in case. 

If only the view out my window looked like this....

Trek Northwards to Michigan

This past weekend, we headed to Northern Michigan for a wedding - to Spring Lake to be specific. Two short (and tiny) plane flights after leaving LaGuardia, I touched down in Grand Rapids airport. We headed out to Spring Lake for a lovely ceremony along the shore and reception and party at the Spring Lake Country Club. Shockingly, I brought my camera but didn't take pictures most of the weekend...I think I am still on hiatus after the 500 pics from my Europe trip. That being said, I did catalog our craft beverage experience.

Upon arrival at our hotel, our welcome bag awaited us, brimming with goodies! One of the treats was a bottle of Vander Mill Apple Blueberry Cider. Paul Vander Heide, one of the groomsmen, is the owner of Vander Mill and secured the cider for all of the wedding guests. My experience with cider recalls memories of a viscose, cloying beverage, generally flavored to the nth degree with some sort of nauseating fruit smell. Naturally, that sort of experience doesn't inspire a repeat beverage order so I ventured a taste of my boyfriend's cider, which was on tap at the wedding reception. And I was genuinely surprised and impressed. Only a hint of sweet, a refreshing effervescence, and a robust flavor that didn't leave a sticky aftertaste. Over the weekend we tried a variety of cider's, including my favorite, a Michigan Wit Cider, which was styled after a Belgium wheat beer. If you're in the Northern Michigan or Chicago areas, check out these locations that currently carry Vander Mill and give it a try!

Our other imbibing adventures brought us to two breweries, both of which are representative of the explosion of the craft brewery culture in Michigan, a surge competing with the likes of San Diego, Portland, and Colorado. Our first stop was at Brewery Vivant in Grand Rapids. Housed in a former funeral home, the brewery dining room is the former chapel converted into a pseudo Belgian Monastery. The actual bar counter mimics the shape of the Romanesque arch welcoming you as you enter the hall and rustic communal tables offer a shared dining experience. The lunch menu offered standard gastropub fare with an above par burger garnished with an amazing onion & bacon marmalade and bernaise-mayo (mustard and ketchup need not apply) served on a pretzel bun and alongside truffled pommes frites. Delectable. We also perused the dinner menu, whose virtues had been extolled by our dining companions. I'd consider flying back there just to try some of those mouthwatering items!

Brewery Vivant: Farm Hand Ale & IPA

We ordered a variety of their beers including the Farm Hand, the standard IPA, and the Big Red Coq (a double IPA that I'm convinced the boys kept ordering just so they could say Coq - glad we're all grown ups.) Kidding aside, that was certainly the winner - great balance of strong hops and caramel with a hint of grapefruit on the nose.

Our second brewery experience was at New Holland Brewing Company in Holland, Michigan, about 40 miles east of Grand Rapids, and the hometown of Hope College, where the wedding's groom attended. The Brewery is located in a former hardware store on 8th Street, the main strip running through downtown Holland. While much more commercial of a scene than our experience at Brewery Vivant, New Holland offered a great variety of distinct beers as well as specialty spirits brewed on-site by the brew masters. This list inclused a $16 whiskey, The Zeppelin Blend, which according to people in the know is worth the freight. As it was lunchtime, I figured the Zeppelin might do me in so I stuck with my go to favorite, the IPA, tasting the Imperial Hatter IPA. Slightly lighter than the IPA and Red Coq at Vivant, this IPA still packs a punch with heavy citrus after-notes and a hoptastic bite!

New Holland Brewing Company: Imperial Hatter IPA

The weekend wasn't just about imbibing...new friends were made, old friendships revisited, beautiful sunsets on the lake, gallivanting around Northern Michigan, and great conversations. There was just a phenomenal variety of high quality ciders and beers to accompany those activities. Slainte!