As Nemo (what kind of blizzard name is that?) blankets the east coast in white, I woke up thinking about my recent trip to New York. My very lovely friend Rebekkah lives in Brooklyn and graciously let me stay with her, proving to be not only a wonderful friend, but a gracious host as well. Although I imagined a trip to Europe after college graduation when I was a daydreaming teenager, I think my trip to NYC was the perfect end to an era. New York has this magic about it that fills the air like electricity. It’s cliche to say so, but it’s the truth. Being there, walking the streets alone, the cold wind brushing strands of hair against my face, navigating subway trains and iPhone apps, buildings so tall I had to crane my neck to see them, twinkling Christmas lights everywhere, people scuttling past me speaking unknown languages, catching snowflakes on my tongue, discovering what a latte is supposed to taste like, Rebekkah’s elated face during her first recording session, rereading Daughter of Smoke & Bone while I was there because it makes me feel magical, sitting across from a cute boy in the subway but being too shy to smile at him, Hasidic women in wigs and nude colored tights, beautiful streets lined with Brownstones, a day spent at the Met in wonderment and awe, long talks over bottles of wine, the best roast beef sandwich of all time, long hot showers thawing frozen limbs, walking through Williamsburg, Charlie’s insanely creative cocktails, chocolate hazelnut rice pudding before dinner, piles of garbage bags lining the sidewalks, passing by Jake Gyllenhaal and his lumberjack beard, being hassled to buy some guy’s rap album in Times Square, strolling through the Harry Potter exhibition with other eager geeks, an adventure involving the hunt for Hunters, tightly wound scarves and newly bought gloves, feeling displaced and placed at the same time, falling asleep wondering what the future holds, sheets of fresh pasta with braised rabbit, malted ice cream sandwiches, being in the Upper East Side and thinking I might run into Chuck and Blair, the obligatory hot dog with ketchup and mustard, having way too much champagne on New Year’s Eve, watching the ball drop and knowing I was right there, in NYC, when it was happening… all this made me feel alive and that I can do anything. Thank you New York.