The usual.

Despite the crazy heat (99 degrees plus humidity), today's been pretty good so far. I got all my laundry done, went to the library, picked up a package at the post office, hung out with friends, and then nudged a dead pigeon off my window sill using a bendy straw.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I get really fed up with living here. Sometimes I wish I could get from Point A to Point B without having to rely on public transportation. Sometimes having my own big, new apartment with walk-in closets for less than I'm paying now doesn't sound so bad. Sometimes I just want simple tasks like doing my laundry or going to Ikea to not be a production that I have to plan my whole day around.

Last night was not one of those times. Lying in the grass in Central Park, listening to the New York Philharmonic play "Rhapsody In Blue" and selections from West Side Story, watching fireflies float lazily through the warm air, I felt perfectly content. When I hugged my friend goodbye later, I said, "This was magical." And for once, I wasn't being facetious.

People often ask me what I like best about living in New York, and I always have a hard time answering. Because it's those random, perfect moments that happen every now and then that make people so in love with this city. Running along the river at sunset, looking at the Rockefeller Christmas lights, people-watching in Columbus Circle--I freeze-frame those moments and put them in a mental album entitled This Is Why You Live Here (And Pay A Lot Of Money To Do So). And luckily, it's enough to get me through those other times that aren't quite so magical.

Heat wave.

You know what's awesome? When the temperature inside your apartment is 93 degrees. Doesn't that sound awesome?

If you know anyone who lives in the Northeast (oh, hey), you've probably heard them complain about the heat wave we had last week. Temperatures spiked to the triple digits with high humidity over the 4th of July, and things got nuts. Heat advisories were issued. People posted crazy expletive-filled rants on Craigslist, begging someone to sell them air conditioners. One guy started stabbing people outside my office building.

Thankfully, I was able to escape the city for most of it (except the stabbing spree! that was exciting) and go to Colorado for a redhead bonanza of a holiday weekend. I traded in stuffy subway stations and the smell of hot garbage for:



pajama-time sparklers



baby bedhead



becoming one with nature



and lots of silliness
(okay, I might have stolen this one. my camera isn't quite that nice.)
There were also early morning jogs with my sister (including some nearly-exploding lungs thanks to the 6000-foot altitude change), tons of homemade deliciousness, hours of playing Lego Harry Potter (and NOT with the 5-year-old, oddly enough), swingsets, zoo animals, hugs, stupid jokes, and Oreo pancakes.

Thanks to a crazy thunderstorm on the 4th, we opted to enjoy NYC's fireworks display on TV (which, ironically, it turned out that many of my friends in New York did as well). We were champs, though, and were rewarded the next night with re-scheduled town fireworks that we enjoyed with a giant bag of freshly-popped popcorn.

I had a great time and, as always, was reminded that I kind of like my family. But soon enough it was time to come back to New York and my nightly Sophie's Choice: the TiVo in the living room, or the air conditioner in my bedroom. Reality can be harsh sometimes.

More pictures here.