Last week I had the pleasure of driving my brother up to New York City and helping him move into his dorm. It had been about six years since I had been to the city and almost just as much time had passed since the last time my brother and I had spent that much time together. Both of those things are sad, sad facts. I've loved New York since the first time I laid my eyes on it ten years ago. We were there for a week and my parents cut my brother and me loose. We walked and walked until there weren't enough band aids to cover our battered feet. We tasted food cart upon food cart until we found the best gyro in all of Manhattan (I still have dreams about it). We did every touristy thing on our list - Empire State Building, Lady Liberty, Ellis Island, the Met and Central Park. It was probably the most fun our teenage selves had ever had. 

And so we found ourselves in that great city again, a little older and possibly a little wiser. And yet it was as if the city hadn't changed at all - it was just as magnetizing, beautiful and ALIVE. We grabbed his bags and made our way up to his room to discover the most incredible views out of two french windows. It was perfect. And soon enough it was as if we were teenagers all over again trekking around the city tasting bagels (I had the best salmon bagel at Absolute Bagel on Broadway) and making memories. We went to Chelsea Market (so fun!!) and somehow found ourselves in Times Square (one word: yikes!!) and eventually gave our feet a break in a cab on our way to Central Park. 

We split a creme brulee at Pastis and reminisced about days of yore and dreamed of my brother's new life here in the city. I told him I was jealous and he told me he was scared. We laughed and shared until late into the night and walked the streets packed with clubbers arm in arm back to our hotel. The next morning we strolled through a sleepy West Village where we passed bald babies in strollers and little dogs out for their morning walk. We got breakfast at Magnolia Bakery, which by the way I will give the banana pudding five starts but Sprinkles still has my heart when it comes to cupcakes. 

We hugged and parted ways at Gansevoort and 9th Avenue and my brother went on to brave the subway while I made one last stop at Chelsea Market before heading home. As noon hovered on the horizon the streets started to come alive, chairs were being unloaded onto the street to house al fresco diners, there was a sudden proliferation of bikers and drool worthy scents snaked their way through doorways and windows. The sun was high and hot by this time and I let out a sigh as I felt a slight pinch in my heart from the idea of leaving my little brother here. I worried about him but I also knew he would be just fine and another part of me was oh so envious. 

By 12:30 I was heading for the Lincoln Tunnel feeling grateful for this time we got to spend together in such an amazing city and looking forward to squeezing that chubby baby of mine that I had been missing like crazy and planting a big one on that smoking husband of mine. 

New York you were positively lovely and trust me I'll be back!!