Well, I wasn’t technically flyin’ solo. I was with my best girlfriend, Shannon, who lives outside of D.C., and we conquered Manhattan (and the shopping) like only two twenty-somethings on a girl’s trip can. It was hot, humid, noisy, bustling, and absolutely fabulous. And it was the first time in a very long time that I explored a brand new place without Jeff by my side.
Jeff and I travel so much together that we definitely have a routine. I pack our suitcase the same way every time, Jeff takes care of the flights and hotels while I take care of the restaurants and outfits (hey, great food and accessories are vital to the perfect trip, right?) and when we walk through a new city together, our hearts and cameras are drawn towards the same things. We love adventure, and we love exploring. But this time we’re doing it in separate parts of the world.
While I got to stand on top of Rock Center at midnight, dance in the aisles at Mamma Mia, and ball my eyes out at Ground Zero, Jeff is heading out with 9 of his best guy friends to the British Virgin Islands for a man-only sailing trip. Or should I say, Pirate-only sailing trip? The distinction is getting a little blurred… We’re literally in different parts of the world, and it’s gotten me in a “so-not-prepared-for-this-break-from-routine” tizzy. I way over packed my suitcase when I realized that Jeff’s favorite pair of deck shoes are no longer taking up half of it, and I’ve had to sweet talk the Delta agents for that complimentary upgrade that Jeff always seems to snag (totally didn’t happen by the way. Middle seat in the back of the plane… oh yeah, that’s how I rolled.)
And I LOVED New York. It was so different than what I expected, but it was so much the same too. The people were amazing, the food was delectable, and the walking did our bodies a whole lot of good. I can’t wait to someday show Jeff everything that Shannon and I saw and did. I can’t wait to drag him along 5th avenue to the Free People we found and show him the best Anthropologie I’ve ever seen right next to Rockefeller Center. I want him to feel the power of Ground Zero and giggle with me in the Starbucks line on Wall Street wearing hot pink in a sea of black. I want to drop another hot dog in my lap at Battery Park (nice one Erin), and lick up every bit of pistachio gelato from that nameless Italian pasticceria on the west side of The Village. These are memories that Shannon and I will cherish forever, and we’ll always have this amazing trip to look back on. Because, honestly, at the end of our lives, isn’t it the lifetime of memories that will be most precious?
I certainly think so.