winter in vermont

Years ago, my sister posted this Buzzfeed article to my Facebook wall. She read it out loud to my mom this past Christmas Eve; at which time I confirmed that their explanation of 28 may actually be true: Whew—28 is the best year of your twenties. Not because of the spectacular partying (see: 22) or because you’ll magically have everything figured out (see: never), but because 28 is the year when you’re finally able to accept that no one actually “feels” like a grown-up and it’s OK that you don’t either. This is also the year I've been able to appreciate the past decade of experiences (see: blog archives), and marvel at how each one will always be mine.

And let's not forget that time's not up yet! Yesterday, for instance, I went skiing for the first time ever. How can that be, you winter sports enthusiasts may ask? Well, my parents sought sun-and-sand vacations, and I don't find laborious hobby-prep all that appealing (—I have been snowboarding thrice). But, Deanna fell in love with skiing last winter and my aunt (who made the introductions) gifted her last-minute lift vouchers to a private mountain with a December 31st expiration date. Enter, a two-day sister-ski trip to Vermont...

Although we both signed up for lessons upon arriving, my day one was pitiful. I just wouldn't recommend learning to ski at 28 (versus, say, 8)—skis are awkward, slopes are steep, and adults are inherently too aware of risk. My saving grace was Nancy's patient humor and good balance (namaste). Dare I say day two was better though! Nancy coached me once more and I managed to link wedge turns, etc. and it was fun. My sister was so proud, ha. We're that much closer to fulfilling her ski-chalet-NYE dream.

Hopefully I can hit the slopes in 2017. For now, I'm grateful for our charming one-on-one time: in addition to skiing, we dined and heart-to-hearted at Cask & Kiln, bnb-ed at Shearer Hill Farm, and road tripped with ESM sandwiches. Learning and cherishing, best.

under wing

Supposedly, having belonged to more than one place makes setting up a life in a another one easier. It doesn't. At least not in the ways some assume. Because in addition to the time and energy it takes to become familiar with one's dynamic new environment, there are the processes of new friend-building and old friend-rekindling, the balance of carefully learning the ropes at work while bolding integrating oneself into the office, and simultaneously figuring out the most restorative personal routine. It's all physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting. The key, I think, is to hold onto "the why", and accept the promise in each day as it comes.

And to wholeheartedly appreciate the support from near and far as well. I went on a second date in Hollywood Forever Cemetery last night. Earlier in the day, I met Claire and David for brunch at the Ace Hotel and a Downtown Arts District tour. And on Friday, my cousin and I made dinner together before watching her friend perform and dancing the night away. Days like these are what'll make L.A. feel like home. "Little by little, one travels far," and though unbelievably enough, I'm finding s/he need not do it alone.

the birthplace of tequila

I find it disappointing how often cosmopolitanism doesn't represent that which is 'cultured', or 'worldly', or better yet, 'open minded'. Still we continue to use it so frequently, and with such vigor. Paris is cosmopolitan. New York is cosmopolitan. Guadalajara... ? The hierarchal distinction was on my mind a lot while visiting family in rural Mexico. As per usual, I blame my thesis research :).

Anyway. I've been back in the city of haute cuisine for a mere four days now, and I'm already craving street-side tacos; preferably the ones my parents and I stopped for on our way to "the city" (as my dad called it) over two weeks ago. Gosh those were good. Then again, I also recall being excited to be in Guadalajara as I enjoyed their deliciousness. Not because, as my mom argued, we've flown in and out dozens of times without having ever seen it, but rather because tenía ganas for a cosmopolitan dining experience.

Both of our bratty desires were appeased in our last 24 hours in Mexico. With the preloaded directions on my iPhone, I directed my dad to Perla Central, a cool boutique hotel my mom had booked last minute. Then, we walked to the historic center, took a bus tour, bought souvenir in Tlaquepaque, happy hour-ed with corn, queso, guacamole, and margaritas, and eventually, dined at Cocina 88.

Dinner was exquisite. Soon after arriving at the "turn-of-the-century mansion", a server came by our table and asked us to follow him. We chose a catch-of-the-day (for my mom and me) and a cut of beef (for my dad) from a butcher case. Next, we selected a wine straight from their wine cellar; our first Mexican wine. The live music began just as our appetizers arrived. The lime soup, in particular, was amazing. The singer and band were as well. After eating our meals, we sat there with coffee/tea just to keep listening.

"What a day", I reflected as we drove to the airport the following morning. We spent such a short amount of time well. The contrast of traditional and contemporary, wealth and... not, was incredible. It reminded me of How Tacos Explain Mexico's Labor Market.

In Mexico, it seems you are where you eat. Mexico City’s young professionals dine at a mix of modern, formal restaurants and old-school informal street stands. Investors are opening a new wave of world-class restaurants in many neighborhoods in Mexico’s capital city, targeting the growing budgets of the city’s upwardly mobile young professionals. But the formal economy isn’t robust enough to provide jobs for the entire workforce. Like meat in an over-stuffed taco, many people don’t fit into the formal sector and fall out to the sidelines.

I'm no expert of economics, but this trip and my research has me questioning so, so much. Tequila originated in the state of Jalisco for which Guadalajara is the capital. It's consumed all over the world. I happen to love it. But, tequila isn't comparable to wine. One is more respected than the other. And I suppose craft beer falls somewhere in the middle? Cosmopolitan food for thought maybe.

a berliner in nyc, day 2

I'm flying to Paris tonight. And though I'm very excited for these changes and a reunion with this boy, I'm also pretty sad about it. What if I'm not ready to bid adieu to New York, to miss my family, to not have my friends only a bridge or two away again?

Anyway, back to the itinerary. Our second day in the city: (1) Have a leisurely morning at home, meet college roommate for a late lunch at Sarabeth's, check into the hotel your cousin worked at. (2) Ride the subway downtown. (3-5) Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. (4-7) Take a glance at Dumbo, then wander through Brooklyn Heights. (9) Meet friends for happy hour at Flatbush Farm. (10) Venture (tipsily, mind you) over to Franny's for a late dinner of New York pizza and New York wine.

london via eurostar

Did I tell you I went to London this past weekend? (This photo may have given it away.) I was especially excited because it was my first getaway since moving to Paris, my first international train ride, and my second visit to the UK. You may be surprised to hear then that graduate school was the occasion. I spent most of two whole days within London offices meeting industry professionals in public relations, new media, branding , and advertising. What a fantastic opportunity.

I wasn't purely studious though. On Thursday and Friday nights, the entirety of Saturday, and Sunday morning, I enjoyed London to the fullest by drinking far too much beer, visiting The British Museum, tasting British and international cuisine, and spending a tad bit too much money at Top Shop. Um, I saw the sights last time?

[Thursday's happy hour at BrewDog Camden]

[Thursday's dinner of skirt steak, kale, and "chips" at Market]

[Thursday's local dessert from Whole Foods]

[Friday's perfect-for-the-rain "hot pot" lunch at Eat.]

[Friday's happy hour at The Craft Beer Co.]

[Friday's "Cod Father" dinner at Friend At Hand]

[Friday's cocktails at ECC London]

[Friday's late night dancing at... a local pub?]

[Saturday's full English hotel breakfast: grapefruit slices, orange juice, coffee, bran flakes with milk, poached egg on brown toast, baked beans, tomatoes, mushrooms]

[Saturday's morning visit to the Bloomsbury Festival]

[Saturday's afternoon visit to the British Museum]

[Saturday's evening: Indian food at Dishoom followed by brews at Punch & Judy]

[Sunday's brunch of scrambled eggs, brown toast, and tea with milk at Silva's]

[Sunday morning shopping on Oxford Street]

I wish I had more time to really share how much fun I had. Unfortunately-ish, I over-did this weekend trip in more ways than one and have an incredibly busy week with classes, midterm assignments, and a new internship. Hopefully I can handle it. Cheerio, lovelies!