NYC Bucket List

The military life is one that is always on the move, and since we won't be in the New York City area indefinitely, I put together another bucket list (with a few repeats from my summer and fall lists) to tackle this coming spring and summer. Of course, you could live in NYC for years and not experience all the city has to offer, but I'm determined to see and do as much as I can so that when we do leave, I'll know the time we did have was well spent and full of adventure.

Without further ado, here is my ambitious bucket list, in no particular order:

• Go ice skating while it is still wintry out! Nice rinks in Bryant Park or Prospect Park
• See a Broadway show (recommendations welcome!)
• Wine tasting in the North Fork of Long Island (or Brooklyn)
• Explore Brooklyn Bridge Park and take a spin on Jane’s Carousel
• Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset
• Finally eat a Shake Shack burger (I’ve been to the original Shack in Madison Square Park, but I didn’t eat a burger!)
• Picnic in Central Park and say hello to the animals at Central Park Zoo
• Shop the Brooklyn Flea Market, and explore the surrounding Williamsburg neighborhood
• Check out the Statue of Liberty, up close or during a harbor cruise (or even from the Staten Island Ferry!)
• Tour the National September 11 Museum (we've been to the memorial but didn't go inside the museum)
• Walk through the breathtaking St. Patrick’s Cathedral
• Play date at Coney Island
• Stroll through a city garden: Brooklyn Botanic Garden or New York Botanical Garden
• Take in the view from the Top of the Rock
• Chow down on some great New York-style pizza (I heard Lombardi’s on Spring Street or John’s of Bleecker Street are excellent)
• Shop and dine at Eataly
• Explore the shops and restaurants along the charming cobblestone-streets in the West Village 
• Visit more museums! Especially the MoMA, again, to see the Jackson Pollock exhibition, and the Whitney Museum of American Art
• Spend a sunny day exploring Prospect Park
• Journey to Roosevelt Island and/or Governor’s Island
• Attend a performance of The New York City Ballet at Lincoln Center
• Eat an authentic Italian meal in Little Italy
• Check out the New York Public Library
• People watch in Washington Square Park and take tons of photos of the stately marble arch (OTTO, a Mario Batali pizzeria is nearby for lunch)
• Head to the Jersey Shore for a beach day? Better yet, head to the Hamptons!
• For G: Go to a Yankees game and attend a basketball game at Madison Square Garden

So much to do, so little time! Would you add anything to this list? Recommendations and tips happily accepted. While I may not hit every item on this list, it's exciting to dream about and look forward to the possibility of all these fun adventures. 

New York art prints (1, 2) 

via Rifle Paper Co.

Snow Day!

Winter Storm Jonas hit the northeast this past weekend, dumping two feet of snow on Jersey and NYC. I was scheduled to work Saturday and Sunday, but both shifts were cancelled due to the weather as well as a "travel ban" in Hoboken — and this California girl got to experience her first snow day! Truly, it was much like any other lazy Saturday: We stayed in, watched too much TV, cooked yummy food (G baked chocolate chip cookies!), I worked on my calligraphy, and we snuggled with the dogs. The hubs and I also got a lot of laughs watching our pups hobble around in their brightly colored booties, which they were not yet accustomed to, and explore the snow on our balcony. (Thank goodness for that balcony! We didn't have to venture outside while the blizzard was at its blustery peak.) The snowfall was mostly restricted to Saturday and, even though it is now Tuesday, there are still mounds of snow lining the streets and sidewalks as well as a pretty, white dusting on the neighborhood rooftops. Considering I've only been in falling snow twice before (during a college internship in Washington, D.C.), it was quite the sight to see. It was like a scene out of a movie, watching the snow slowly bury the cars on the street outside our apartment building and, the next day, watching neighbors dutifully shovel the sidewalk. We are most certainly not in California, anymore! The snow was coming down hard and fast and it was smart to stay inside, but a small part of me wishes we had ventured out into the storm, if only for a few minutes. But I'm sure we'll have another chance to play in the snow, make snow angels and build a snowman. Winter has only — finally — just arrived.

Thoughts on a Summer Evening

One of my favorite things about my evening walks in Weehawken (other than the view of NYC) is seeing fireflies dancing around the sidewalk and front yards. As a SoCal native, I had never seen fireflies in person so witnessing one a few weeks ago was quite the thrill. I was in awe with each blink of light.

Now, I have to say, fireflies are not all that pretty in their non-illuminated state. Some insect-phobic people like myself might call them strange looking, ugly even, and maybe a little scary. I truly don't enjoy when they fly up near me or my face. (It's the same way I felt about all the colorful dragonflies buzzing around in Florida, no matter how many times my husband assured me that they wouldn't bite or sting. I like bugs to keep their distance, pleaseandthankyou.)

However, fireflies are incredibly beautiful when they let their light shine. And they are even more stunning when strengthened by a community of their peers, their friends and family.

So, yes, they might just be weird little beetles with glowing lanterns on their tails—that's very scientific of me, right?—but they gave me a lot to think about during my evening walk last night and a few good reminders for us human folk:

Let your light shine. Don't dim your spark. Share your gifts. 

And surround yourself with people who encourage that inner glow.

(Photographs by Tsuneaki Hiramatsu 

via Smithsonian Magazine)

Happy Fourth!

Happy Independence Day from New Jersey! While this past month has been trying, to say the least, I'm going to do my best to focus on the positives today: my husband, who has been in Rhode Island since the beginning of June, is coming home this weekend to visit. This will be his third quick trip down to Jersey and while I loathe the fact that I still don't know when his boat will be coming home from dry dock for good and resuming a more normal schedule, I'm happy that I at least get to celebrate the holiday with him, especially since up until recently that didn't look like it would be the case. I'm not sure what our plans are, if we'll go out or stay in, but I'd be fine just staying home, making dinner, sitting out on our balcony and (hopefully) catching a glimpse of a few NYC fireworks. Whatever we do, I'm just glad we'll be doing it together.

Hope you and yours have a fun and safe Fourth of July!

Bittersweet

After 13 long days in Rhode Island, my husband called me Saturday afternoon with a surprise, of sorts: He was coming home! But just for a day. A part that the ship's crew was waiting on didn't come in, so the CO (that's commanding officer, for you non-military folk) gave the guys liberty for the rest of the weekend. 

G didn't arrive in Union City until almost 7:30 Saturday night, so after catching up and taking the dogs out for a walk, all we had time for was a late dinner of just-OK Chinese take-out. (We're slowly discovering which eateries in our neighborhood are good and not-so-good.) Knowing he had to get back to the boat Sunday night to be ready for work at dawn on Monday, we tried to make the most of our short time together. In a perfect world, I would have woken up early to do so, but G kindly let me sleep in. I'm not a morning person, never have been, but while the hubs has been away I've been waking up early every day to take the dogs out. (Jasper usually starts ruffing in my ear around 6 or 6:30, sometimes earlier.) So my loving husband, who always rises with the sun, took the pups on their morning walk and let me snooze until 9. That's love. I say that jokingly, and yet with all sincerity.

Once I was ready, we headed over to—where else?!—Target, to get a few must-have items for the apartment: a shower rod and curtain so I can get clean without splashing water all over the floor, semi-sheer white curtains for the sliding glass door in our bedroom, to offer a bit more privacy, and since our apartment was less-than-pristine upon moving in, a few cleaning supplies—including a Swiffer WetJet that I truly hope lives up to the hype because these apartment floors are dirty. After our Target run, we took the mutts to the Lincoln Harbor Dog Park, which is only a short car ride away from our apartment but, unfortunately, due to a big cliff and hilly terrain is pretty impossible for me to walk to. We then took a quite detour down Washington Street, the main drag in Hoboken, to see what's there (read: to see what we're missing) and give ourselves complete real estate envy.

Finally, with the afternoon passing into the evening, my sweet hubby said all he wanted to do was spend quality time with me, sans errands. So we went out for a nice, fancy-but-casual dinner at Chart House Weehawken. Located right on the Hudson River, it boasts incredible views of the New York City skyline, inside and outside the restaurant.

The food's not too shabby, either. We had the lobster bisque to start, followed by Mac Nut mahi for him (with warm peanut sauce, mango relish, soy glaze and mashed purple sweet potato) and a slightly spicy Chilean sea bass for me (with Yukon gold mashed potatoes and a refreshing tomato-cucumber gazpacho sauce). We then sent ourselves into a full-on food coma with the hot chocolate lava cake for dessert.

Since our leisurely dinner went longer than planned, G had to hightail it out of here the moment we got home. I didn't want to say goodbye, especially not knowing when he'd be back, and instantly missed him the second he walked out the door. The dogs did, too. I had told the hubs not to make a fuss about leaving, so Jasper kept waiting (and sometimes barking) at the door for Daddy to come back. 

Being married to a military man, you know what you signed up for. He's not going to be home all the time. He's going to get deployed every so often. Fortunately with the Coast Guard, he's not gone as long as he might be with other branches of the service. But it doesn't make it any easier, especially when you are in a new city with no friends or family (and still no furniture, TV or most of your wardrobe). Not to mention I'm still kind of new to this whole military wife thing. So here's hoping it's not another two weeks before this Rhode Island dry dock business is resolved and that my man can come back home and stay for longer than a day... before getting underway, again.

I've Wanted to Be Here My Whole Life

The view from our apartment.

We arrived in our new town of Union City around 6 o’clock on June 5, exactly two weeks ago. After checking out (for the first time!) our new digs and unloading the car, we decided to take the dogs out for a much-needed long walk since they had spent the bulk of three days in a cramped backseat. Plus, we wanted to get a lay of the land and see what our new neighborhood was all about. 

We ended up running into a couple other dog owners, all friendly, who offered their knowledge of the area, including (upon my asking) exactly where to take our pups to relieve themselves in this concrete jungle. As I told one guy who called Union City the ‘burbs, this is a very urban suburbia to us native Southern Californians. No manicured sidewalks with miles of grass here. (I won’t even get into all the honking and the sirens and the general perpetual noise.) Anyway, both the couple and the man we spoke to insisted that we stroll a couple blocks thataway to JFK Boulevard East “to see what (we) moved here for.” We listened. And once we got to the Weekhawken waterfront, we were greeted with the most spectacular view of the New York City skyline, just beginning to light up the sky as the sun was setting. 

We continued walking along the path and gawking at the incredible scene just across the Hudson River, which until then I had really only seen on TV and in movies. The view seemed to get better and better as we went along, and I took another photo every couple steps. When we decided to turn back and head home—and in search of dinner—I stopped my husband first for one last look.

NYC at night, the illuminated Empire State Building taking center stage.

“Come here,” I said, motioning him to my side. “Let’s have a moment.”

I put my arm around G as we looked across the Hudson at the twinkling city lights. Moving is tough, military life can be tough, but I wanted us to have a moment where we just felt happiness and all the possibility before us.

“That’s New York City,” I said. “I’ve wanted to be here my whole life.”

And then I got all watery-eyed. I’m a sap like that. 

“My whole life” is an exaggeration to be sure, “since high school” might be more accurate, but it sure feels like I’ve waited forever. And now I’m finally here.

#####

When I wrote this post a week or so ago, before we had internet, the next sentence was an optimistic plea: "Let's make the most of it!" Even when I typed it the first time it didn't feel quite right, but I tried to trick myself into a mood of hopefulness and positivity by tapping into the feeling I had our first night in Jersey.

The truth is, our transition has not gone smoothly, and that's putting it mildly. The hubs has been in Rhode Island for 12 days and we're both still not sure when he'll be back. Each day some new problem pops up, delaying his return. And all our stuff from Florida has yet to be delivered. All our boxes hadn't even been weighed or placed on a moving truck on Monday, the estimated move-in date. So I'm still living in a mostly-empty apartment, sitting on the hardwood floor, sleeping on an air mattress, cooking with few kitchen utensils (I bought a couple cheap items at the store the other day) and growing increasingly tired of the limited clothing options I packed when we left St. Pete.

I'm actually starting to get used to the whole set-up and having my husband gone. But that doesn't make it feel any better. Except for two crazy mutts, I'm all alone in an unfamiliar place. Nevertheless, I am trying my best to regain that excited, the-world-is-your-oyster feeling, to find joy in small things and to know that there must be a light at the end of this tunnel—even if I can't quite see it yet.

Because once we're on the other side, I'm going to want to make the most of it.

View from Hamilton Park, a frequent stop on our morning and afternoon walks.

Real Estate Wishes (and Reality Checks)

After months of waiting for an answer, we finally found out about two weeks ago that we were released from military housing when we move to New Jersey at the end of May. It's good news. It's what we wanted. We won't have to live in an apartment on Staten Island. But it's scary good news, because it means the pressure is on to find a place to live before G has to report for work June 8. The hubs has been looking at rental listings online since last fall, and now that it's closer to go time I've been looking, too. But, per usual with this military life, I'm realizing that we are going to have to make a lot of compromises, some sacrifices, in this house hunt. We got what we wanted, in terms of getting out of being forced to live in Sector New York's military housing, but we likely will not get exactly what we want in our next home.

Here's our wish list: 

• Single-family house, duplex or town home. (We are trying to get away from apartment-style living.) After a year in 750-square-foot apartment, we're hoping for 1,000-square-feet.
• At least two bedrooms (one for an office) and one bathroom, though two would be preferable.
• Walkable neighborhood, close to shops, restaurants, bars and parks. Hoboken would be ideal but likely out of our budget, so we're also searching in Jersey City, Weehawken and Union City, as well parts of Brooklyn.
• A home with a yard, even if it's a small one, for the dogs. This is why apartments and condos don't work.
• Windows! I don't need a view but I do need natural light. I'm tired having just a couple windows on just one side of the building, another reason we are trying to avoid apartments and condos. 
• Large, clean (if not updated) kitchen with plenty of counter space and storage. We love to cook and we have a lot of kitchen tools and dining pieces.
• Large master closet. We're bursting at the seams with our humble walk-in closet now and I still have a box of clothes that I never unpacked when we moved in last June!
• Plenty of storage. We had to rent a 10x10 storage unit when we moved from our two-bed, two-bath condo in San Diego to our one-bed, one-bath St. Pete apartment. It's an expense we don't want to carry to Jersey. 

As you can see, we have quite the extensive wish list (but not an overly generous budget), which is why I know we are going to have to compromise somewhere along the way. We've already done a lot of searching and found nothing that checks all the boxes, and our favorites get snapped up right away. (That real estate game is fierce!) We even reached out to a New Jersey realtor last week and he basically came back saying, in so many words, that we couldn't afford to live in our preferred areas, even though we've casted a wide net in that regard. (He then proceeded to send us listings upwards of $3,000/month. Safe to say we won't continue using his services.)

While we are not buying our first home, this rental house hunt feels just as important. We moved to St. Petersburg right after we got married, so even though we lived together for a year in G's San Diego condo, Florida was going to be our first married home, the first place we got together. The apartment we are in now was supposed to be temporary, which is why we were OK with just one bedroom and one bathroom. But then we found out we wouldn't be staying in St. Pete for three years after all, so we nixed plans to move into something bigger and better and stayed in our transitional living situation. This move to New Jersey feels like our second chance at that "first married home," since we should (fingers crossed) actually be staying in the Garden State for three years.

Our decision also feels important because, if I get my greatest wish, we will be starting a family soon. The home we decide to rent then is where we will have a baby, our child's first home. Maybe I'm putting too much thought into it, but hey, I'm a (emotional, hormonal) woman. I can't help but think of these things and consider the future. 

As discouraging as house hunting can be, whether you're renting or buying, we'll keep on searching because, well, we need somewhere to live! The hardest part really will be that compromise bit. We probably won't find a place in a hip neighborhood with a yard (it's looking bleak), an updated kitchen and two bathrooms. So G and I are going to have to figure out what our priorities are and what we're willing to sacrifice—and hopefully we're on the same page!

Ah, the joys of moving, of marriage, and of military life.

I'll be happy not to have to move again for three years. To stay in one place, for a little while.

(Watercolor New York by Stamen Design 

and Balloons (Midtown, Manhattan) 

by Youngna Park via 20x200)

Blurred Horizons

Sometimes I pretend the future doesn't exist. Even though I know what is coming up down the road, I like to push that knowledge into the recesses of my mind, ignore the mile markers as they pass, and give myself a temporary blind spot. Sometimes I don't want to think about the changes that may lie ahead, the potential problems, until they are no longer on the horizon but right in front of me, staring me squarely in the face, and won't let me pass.

Of course, I know this is juvenile and not beneficial in the slightest. Pretending things, challenges, don't exist doesn't usually work, not for long anyway. So I have to think about it. I have to remove the blind spot.

When I posted in October about the hubs and I making another big move in May/June 2015, I was excited about all the possibilities on the horizon. But that thrilling anticipation of what may be next slowly shriveled up and left a more familiar emotion: uncertainty, which I vaguely revealed here and here, with a bit of hopeful optimism.

Now, when people ask me about New Jersey and New York—like, where are we going to live, have I looked into the job market, what fun things to do plan to do—I answer with a tinge of sadness because I don't have all the answers, and I don't even believe the things I hope for will actually come to fruition.

We picked Bayonne, New Jersey as our next port-of-call for me. Because of it's proximity to New York, the place I've always dreamed of living and working. Of making it big (or, perhaps more realistically, just making it as a teeny-tiny fish) in the magazine world. We had come to St. Pete because that is what G wanted, for his Coast Guard career, and he got his first pick but it didn't turn out as planned. So when it came to deciding where to go next, and after a lot of talking and debating the pros and cons, we ultimately chose a location that would put my dreams within reach while also allowing G to get off land and back on a boat.

But as I've learned, nothing with the military is as it seems. Things don't always go as planned or promised, as those plans and promises can change in the blink of an eye.

We are still moving to Bayonne in May or June. But we have no idea where we are going to live. Thanks to a new USCG rule, we will have to live on base if housing is available. G applied, as required, only to find out that we won't find out until April if we will be forced to live in military housing. We chose Bayonne as the place for G to work, but never intended on living there. But we may have to. And while the hubs loves researching the real estate market and I always tell him it's too soon, now it really does seem like a pointless endeavor.

But there's an even bigger issue at play. Not long after making our moving announcement, the hubs learned that the boat he is slated for, the Sitkinak, is actually home-ported in Sandy Hook, almost an hour-and-a-half drive south from Bayonne, and even farther from Manhattan. After Hurricane Sandy severely damaged the Coast Guard base at Sandy Hook, the Sitkinak was relocated to Bayonne, a fact we were unaware of. Now, the USCG has plans in the works to rebuild at Sandy Hook and we learned that G's boat could be moved back as early as 2016.

This was upsetting news for many reasons. First, it was just weeks after getting married that we moved all the way across the country, from California to Florida. The plan was that we would be in St. Pete for three years, but that is no longer happening. So the idea of moving somewhere else, only to have to move again a year later, is frustrating to say the least.

Second, Sandy Hook isn't exactly close to Manhattan. We never would have picked Sandy Hook if we had seen it listed on the early sea solicitation list. And we only picked Bayonne because it was a hop, skip and a jump away from NYC. So the idea of being shifted to Sandy Hook feels like my Big Apple dreams, our dreams, are being crushed.

I'm holding onto a shred of hope that rebuilding Sandy Hook, like with anything the government plans to do, will take exceedingly longer to accomplish than they say it will. If the rehab does go according to schedule, there's always the option of G commuting to Sandy Hook from, well, wherever it is we are living.

See, these are the kinds of things I don't like to think about. The stuff I don't want to exist. It's so much easier to focus on making the most of our time left in St. Pete than to draw up plans (A, B and C) for how we will handle what's coming down the road. But the future always becomes the present faster than we would like, so I know I can't ignore it forever.

I don't have all, or any of, the answers, nor do I have a sweet ending that can tie up this post with an optimistic and hopeful bow. Sometimes you just have to feel the reality of your situation and accept that you have no control. That last part has been a hard lesson for this still-new military wife to learn, and no matter how many times I've been faced with that clear and simple fact, I'm still learning it. When it comes to this military life, there are no guarantees.

(Central Park and 

West Nineteenth Street (Yellow Dress) 

by Joseph O. Holmes via 20x200)

On the Horizon : Jersey Girl & Manhattan Dreams

So, a little announcement today. I won't bury the lede. If the map didn't make it abundantly clear: The hubs and I are going to be moving. Again. Yes, we only arrived in St. Pete five months ago, and we were slated to be here for three years, but we'll be picking up and moving north to New Jersey next May or June. When Uncle Sam says go, you gotta go. That's military life.

Now, let me explain.

When we found out last October that we would be moving to St. Petersburg, Florida, right after our wedding, G was thrilled. It was his top pick (mine was Boston), we had heard nothing but great things about St. Pete, and my gunner's mate husband was excited to be going back to a boat after three years at a land job.

But not long after G began working on Coast Guard Cutter Ocracoke in July, he learned that the boat was going to be transferred to another crew, in Portland, Maine, at the end of October. Of course, we had no idea that was going to happen. The detailer that sent him, us, to St. Pete didn't know either, or else he wouldn't have assigned G to the Ocracoke. One would think that a detailer would know if a boat is set to be transferred or decommissioned, but that is not always the case. Again, that's military life.

We were a bit upset by the news, to say the least. We had just packed up our whole lives, said goodbye to friends and family, to move across the country for a tour in St. Pete. Suddenly, all our plans changed. That job G had looked forward to was being snatched away. With no new boat coming to replace the Ocracoke, he would have to go back to a land job, working in the armory like he did in San Diego. We had signed a seven-month lease for a one-bedroom apartment and rented a storage unit with the intention of settling into something different after getting the lay of the land. Had we known we'd only be here a year, we would have rented a two-bedroom place, had more space and not thrown a considerable amount of money each month into keeping a large storage unit.

All this, coupled with the summer's oppressively hot and humid weather and my difficulties finding a journalism job, made us feel defeated. St. Pete wasn't working out for us. It definitely wasn't what we thought it would be.

Lesson learned: Things rarely turn out like you think they will. Sometimes it's better, sometimes worse. Expect the unexpected, and embrace it.

So that's what we did. After the initial shock wore off, we shifted our perspective. G losing his boat could be a win. The chance to pick another adventure.

G printed out the list of available boats and brought it home to discuss. Initially, he was interested in going to Miami, where new, super-fast, state-of-the-art FRCs (fast response cutters) were scheduled to come online. I wasn't as thrilled by the idea of moving to Miami, and since the Ocracoke gig wasn't what G thought it would be-- he had hoped to be working drug interdiction cases-- I urged him to research the Miami jobs. In doing so, he discovered that the Miami crews almost exclusively work migrant cases, something G isn't all that interested in. And while I told the hubs that I would support going to Miami in order for him to work on the latest, greatest cutter, I started to have misgivings, secretly wishing he would consider a place I never thought I'd want to live:

New Jersey.

One of the locales on that "early sea solicitation" list was Bayonne. And while the largely industrial city is certainly not the prettiest or hippest place to live, it is just about 30 minutes outside Manhattan.

It has always been my dream to live and work in New York City. I have never been to the Big Apple, and I'm sure my "Sex and the City" fantasies will quickly be shattered once I get there, but there is no question that it is the hub of journalism in America. G knows all this and said before we got married that if there was ever a way to make my dream come true, he would pursue it. Bayonne seems like that chance, and I didn't want it to slip through my fingers. We don't know where the Coast Guard will send us in the future, and the opportunity to live in or close to NYC may never come around again.

For G, being on a boat was the most important thing. He wants his Cutterman's pin, a symbol of having achieved five years total sea time-- a status he would have earned had his tour on the Ocracoke not been drastically cut short. G is determined to get his pin, and he can get it, working on the Sitkinak in Bayonne.

So after much discussion and consideration, G submitted his assignment preferences to the detailer. He put Bayonne as his No. 1 pick, and Gloucester (a town just outside Boston) as his second choice. On Monday he officially received orders: We're going to Bayonne.

We've known for several weeks that G was slated for New Jersey but given all that has happened the last few months, we wanted to be totally sure (orders in hand) before making any kind of announcement. We still have seven months here in St. Pete. Even though the Ocracoke had its change of command last week, we won't move until the transfer season, next summer. So there's still plenty of time to explore Florida and we have a couple months at least before we need to start planning for our next big move.

Still, it's exciting to know, for sure, what is on the horizon and the new possibilities the future holds. This Cali girl is staying on the East Coast for a while longer. I doubt I'll turn into Jersey girl (or a Jersey Shore girl, for that matter). But maybe, just maybe, my cosmo-sipping, city-living, Carrie Bradshaw-channeling Manhattan dreams will come true.

(Sitkinak photos 1 & 2 by Patti Sapone/The Star-Ledger, via NJ.com)