General 54

Favorite neighborhood in Montreal: Mile End.

We ate bagels (though they were not as good as New York bagels) and drank coffee ...

(photos by jes)

And we shopped. A lot. We stopped by General 54 before it opened, and stalled and stalled and stalled until they finally opened the doors sometime after noon. The store carries Jennifer Glasgow Design and it's because of her that I dropped way too much money. But it was Canadian dollars, right? Right? I bought:

This dress in gray, and it criss-crosses in the back. (Don't worry, I wear a cami underneath to keep it decent.)


And this skirt. And I have no guilt. Even when my credit card bill is due, I'll have no guilt ... because they're super cute and I can nearly guarantee that no one else in New York'll be wearing the same outfit as me.

Looks like Glasgow isn't carried anywhere in the States—but you can shop online!

Montreal

Over the Fourth of July, I pulled a really un-American move. I left the US and went to Canada.

Some friends and I traveled an hour and a half by plane to Montreal. It isn't as European as I'd heard it would be, but regardless, it was a good getaway to another country in which English isn't the dominant language.

We really had no agenda, but we saw fireworks on the Fourth, thanks to the International Fireworks Competition. Thanks, Australia!

We discovered the neighborhoods, and ate a lot and drank a lot of coffee. And shopped. More about that later.

Plus, we strolled around Parc du Mont Royal and stumbled upon their Sunday drummers circle. Reminded me of the movie, The Visitor (which you should see.)

Then we got lost in a Labyrinth, with a bunch of 12-year-olds and it was fantastic.

And in the middle of Old Montreal, a street performer entertained the crowd for our loonies and toonies.

And of course, we (er, Jes and Sarah) tried Poutine, Montreal's delicacy of French fries covered in gravy and cheese curds. As you can see, Jamie wasn't loving it.

So, everything about Canada was great, right? Well, except, for the journey back. See, on my way back, I forgot I had mace in my bag. Yup, that good ol' mace—bought for me by my grandmother—has made it through nearly every single security check in the past two years, so I totally forgot I had it. (That's disconcerting, yeah?) But who gets randomly searched at the border? Moi. (See that? That was French.) So they go through my bag and find the mace. Long story short, I was berated by six big Canadian policeman about having it, and apparently if I called it "dog repellent" instead of having it for personal defense, I would have been ok. But mace is not only not kosher to fly with (duh—totally my fault, I get it) but it's also just plain illegal in Canada. So I was essentially breaking the law.

Then, they start asking for all my information, and to see an ID with my current address. But I don't have an ID with my current address—I shamefully still have an Iowa ID. (That was, um, four or five addresses ago.) So I had to explain where I've lived, and then they yelled at me about that, too. (I'm now a proud owner of a New York driver's license. I'll be getting called for jury duty soon, I'm sure.)

About 30 minutes later, lots of speaking in French, and a debate on how to say "editor" in French, they let me go. Phew. But, I might not ever be allowed back in Canada. Sad. Glad I enjoyed it while I was there!

So, lesson learned: Don't bring mace to Canada and you'll be fine.

The High Line

Have you heard about the High Line? If you're in New York and you haven't—how heavy is that rock you're under? If you're outside of New York, you're forgiven.

I was a bit dubious of it—it's a park on top of old elevated train tracks, which have been abandoned for years. I heard rumblings and grumblings of how much money it cost to re-hab and I wasn't sure if it would be worth it.

But I went on one of the first non-rainy days this summer, and I was very impressed.


There were plenty of places to put up your feet.


And remnants of what it used to be. The plantings are all based off what was naturally growing there when the tracks were abandoned.

This was stretch was the first section of the park—multiple more are in the works and they'll stretch up to 34th Street on the west side of the city. I have a feeling I'll be visiting again. And if you haven't gone yet, definitely check it out.

Summer to-do list

There's plenty to keep you busy in New York during the summer. When I was here for an internship in 2005, I kept a list on my fridge of things I had to get done so I would leave here with no stones unturned. But then, I had a time limit, so I was forced to get everything done before I left. Now, I'm a bit more lazy. Weekends come and go—and it's not that I'm doing nothing, I definitely am doing a lot—but sometimes the things I want to do get pushed behind boring stuff, like grocery shopping and laundry and running and going to the gym and blah blah blah. (Note to self: do laundry tomorrow.) I feel like there are summer-only things that are just slipping through my fingers. So in an effort to keep myself honest, here's my rest-of-summer to-do list.

• Listen to the New York Philharmonic concerts in the park
• See a movie at Brooklyn Bridge Park
• Go to Maine and visit Annemarie at her new cooking school, Salt Water Farm
  
• Go to the beach! (that's on the list multiple times)
• Rent a bike and ride for a few hours, then sleep in a hammock on Governor's Island
• Take a kayak out off the docks on the Upper West Side
• See the John Lennon exhibit at the Rock 'n' Roll Museum Annex
• Practice yoga with Lululemon in Bryant Park
• Have a from-the-farmer's-market dinner party
• Go to the farmer's market once a week (duh)
  

Who's with me? Anything I missed?

NYC P.M.

Sadly, I'm realizing there are fewer times lately where I have the typical "I love New York" moments. I used to have them when I ran over the Brooklyn Bridge, or when I took the R train to Brooklyn and the above-ground track lent great views of the Bridge and the Statue of Liberty. I like to say that "everything becomes habitual"—even living in New York. You go to work, you go out, you come home. New York just becomes part of the scenery.

But I was pleasantly reminded how beautiful the city is when Jes and I went to a going-away party for a friend of hers a few weeks back. It was on the top floor/rooftop of a high-rise on the west side. Not sure how the hosts can afford such a pad—they were our age—but they were gracious and let us admire the view as long as we wanted.

photos by Jes

Can't really complain, eh?

things we make

Hey friends: I have an Inspired Image over at Things We Make today. Check it out!

things to remember, part duex

Just a few more friendly reminders:

- There are many things a weekend away with friends won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
- Don't bring pepper spray over the Canadian border. (More on that later.)
- When in doubt, Bob Dylan.
- Dogs. Heart.
- Don't forget to have a good time.

photo by sarah

Food, Inc.

Food, Inc. should be required viewing. Go, go, go!