Last night, I was happy to be home. Ecstatic. After a long day of travel, a four-hour layover, and the roughest turbulence I have ever experienced—passengers were crying and I felt like I was riding the Texas Giant circa 1998—I was glad to be on the ground and walking toward baggage claim. Following the line …
They say once you’ve lived in New York for ten years, you can officially call yourself a New Yorker. Today, that’s me. Today is my tenth anniversary of living in New York City.
It’s been a while since I’ve people-watched on Ninth Avenue. I used to do so quite often, spending long nights sitting by the window of our favorite bar, talking with friends and watching strangers as they passed by. This week, with an excuse to remain in midtown until the start of a concert for which …
My first paying job in New York was in the fundraising and development department of a nonprofit that helped homeless New Yorkers get access to healthcare. The job was a godsend. A woman who did some work with the off-off Broadway theater where I spent my final semester of grad school interning was looking for …
I love my neighborhood. It’s families and college students and people with dogs and ice cream trucks. I have trains on either side of my apartment, beautiful views of the sunset from atop the hill, and the neighborhood is peppered with great little parks. They’re great to me at least. One such park is across …
Ryan Brinson 