Home to the new place:

 It is ironic how one of the biggest joys in traveling is the ending. It is one of those things I love about the whole process, since I have always been an advocate for the “save the best for last policy.” This was a significant home coming, the first time returning from a big trip to our new house. I have good news… it looked like home. It smelt like home. It felt like home. As much as I love to travel, as many dreams as I have, as many places as I want to see… I still have to be completely honest with you: coming home tends to be the best part of it all. As itchy as my feet become and as desperate as I seem for adventure: I love my home. Now we are back, and there is nothing quite so close to contentment as catching up on emails, lying in my own comfy bed, and throwing all my stuff wherever I want.
That is a big bubble. 

Zoe and Zach learn from the master in central park.

   But to finish up the ramblings in my brain and tie up all the loose ends, it is time to give the highlights. And what’s more fun then an awkward and awesome style recap?

Awkward: 

  • Silent wars with the local janitor:  After trying desperately to find a place to sit at Penn station (obviously it is not designed for solo travelers waiting to meet others), I set my bags down in in the only public seating I could find: a food court. As I opened my brown paper lunch sack a janitor/inspector raise and eyebrow and pointed to the sign above my head: “Seating for food court customers ONLY”. After circling around the entire station a couple more times I found myself back in the overpriced food court. Desperate for a seat, I ordered a small tea and sat down once more. I had two hours to wait until my friend would arrive. Every time the janitor/inspector walked by and threw me a suspicious glance, I would casually look down at him over my PAID small tea and resist the urge to smirk: I am a paying customer, and now it is time to see how slowly I can manage to drink this thing.

  •  Misunderstanding the pizza guy: Maybe I will stand here for a little longer and not care that I can’t tell what your trying to explain to me because I am busy delighting in the glorious italian accent filling the place. 
  • Staying in a shared apartment: We had our own apartment in a shared flat. It was as roomy, beautiful, and as pleasant as they come in New York. I have absolutely no complaints. Still, it’s a little awkward when your thumping up the stairs with your family after a long day of sightseeing and are forced to bypass some guy’s misplaced underwear. 
  • Meeting the mafia: Trapsing to the back of the pizza place to find the restroom and overhearing a low conversation in thick New York accents: ” Yah man, and iff you wanna arrest me, arrest me, but don’t just…” *can’t resist to urge to glance over there. Recieves a glare that curdles blood. Continues on to restroom.*
  • Skipping through the Met museum killing time while the rest of my family admires the classics: You accuse me of not appreciating great art? I’ll be the first to agree with you. I really don’t get it. So I’ll try to explore every nook and cranny of this museum and maybe educate myself on 16th century weapons while I’m at it. Eventually I got so much into the exploratory mood that I found myself hopping into elevators, pushing random buttons, and seeing where I landed. It didn’t always work.  
           “Where would you like to go?” A friendly museum guard was asking me what I was looking for? I couldn’t really tell him that I was just skipping as fast as I could manage and not really going for anything in particular, except maybe…adventure? Racking my brain to think of something I could ask him about… “Oh…oh… I forget his name.” The gaurd’s face was already looking a little suspicious.
  “Van goh… where are the van goh paintings?” The man smiled and pointed me in the right direction, but after following his advice I realized that it led me to the gallery I had already skipped by thrice. Hopping on another (unguarded)  elevator, I continued my routine on another random floor. Three minutes later guess who was pushing an elderly ladies wheel chair right in front of me? None other then the same friendly gaurd. He stared at me a little puzzled: 
  “Did you see van goh, that was awfully fast?” 
“oh…I haven’t yet.” 
 “Changed your mind?” He looked more then puzzled, so I took the opportunity to skip away. 
Awesome:
  • Hanging out with my lil bro in the Air and Space museum. Serious sibling bonding time I tell you, and I think he edumacated me more then the museum did.
  • Traveling from D.C. to NYC all my lonesome and feeling like a very big girl, that is until they dropped me off in a place I wasn’t expecting and I had to find my way alone. I could have used a couple parents right then. A couple parents and maybe half a dozen siblings or so. 
  •  Only in New York do people carry full size, full body manniquins down the street like it was nothing. Just another ordinary day…
  • Going on a nice long walk in Queens and getting semi lost. Don’t worry guys, I was pretty much in control. But after realizing that the streets and avenues had coordinated names I figured I could forget all directions and lose myself completely in the sights of the neighborhood for a few minutes. Then when it was time to go home, I could do the math, find the streets, and arrive home safe and sound. Let me tell you: the streets of Queens aren’t as mathematically consistent as they first appear. No problem, it added to the thrill of it. 
  • Street performances: ginormous bubble blower, unbelievably talented breakdancers, guitarist and fiddler, classical violin and cello duo… to name a few. 
  • Queens Library international section. I had never seen so many italian books in all my life. Sono inammorata…
  • Lets all admit it. FAO swartz isn’t just a ginormous toy store, it is what we all dream about on good days. 
  • Pretending to be rich on fifth avenue: failed. 
  • Juniors Cheesecake. 
Zach, post Juniors.
Me, post Juniors

Mariah, post Juniors.

Zoe, post Juniors.

Well, that’s all for now folks. NYC was good to us.

Author: Susanna

I'm Susanna, a 20-year-old Christian girl incorrigibly addicted spontaneous adventures. My first dream was to become a pioneer. Unfortunately, I was born a couple centuries late, so I've decided to read, cook, run, and travel the world until my time machine is finished. You'll mostly likely find me getting into trouble and/or eating licorice. I am currently blogging the misadventures of a middle-school teacher in training. Come join me on my quest to become the next Ms. Frizzle!

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