For our fifth anniversary, we wanted to do something special, just the two of us. After a flurry of last-minute planning, we ended up booking a weekend in New York City. The last time Pete and I visited New York was for my 30th birthday. I was pregnant, but most people didn't know yet. I woke up on my birthday at 5AM to watch the Royal Wedding, then we hopped on a plane to the big city.

This time was different. We packed Eli up to spend the weekend with his grandparents, and since this is the longest we've been away from him, there was a fair bit of anxiety on our part. I made Eli a countdown calendar so he could see how many days remained until we got back. I'm pretty sure he didn't give a hoot about us going away - it was a little vacation for him, too.

On Friday we were up at some ungodly hour to fly to New York. We got there midmorning, dropped our bags at the hotel, and spent the next couple of hours grabbing takeout and wandering to Central Park to eat. Once we'd checked in and gotten cleaned up and organized, we headed to Brooklyn where we spent some time wandering around the neighbourhoods before walking over the Brooklyn Bridge back to Manhattan. The weather was perfect and the sunset? Come onnn. Like something out of a movie. We finished up the evening with pizza at Lombardi's (so good) and dessert and champagne back at the hotel.

Saturday, we slept in a little, lingered over some breakfast, and spent the morning doing some shopping. We visited the New York Public Library (you know, "the" library) in the afternoon and then headed to Central Park for a run - this has been on my bucket list for ages. Saturday night was dinner at a French bistro followed by Les Miserables on Broadway, probably my favourite show ever.

On Sunday we had to leave our hotel midmorning to get back to the airport, so we didn't get a chance for more than breakfast and a quick walk to say goodbye to one of our favourite cities. We got home to see that Eli had been a superstar the whole time we were gone. Nothing like that first hug at the airport after a couple days away to reinforce how much you love your little man.

It was a perfect little getaway for us and just the thing to celebrate five big years as Smug Marrieds.






In case you're interested in places to sleep and eat...

We stayed at the Sofitel
We ate dinners at Lombardi's and Un Deux Trois
Breakfast at Gaby is not to be missed!

Instead of waxing poetic about all the awesomeness that was New York this past weekend, I am going to tell you about the one big disappointment of the trip: White Castle.

First of all let's rewind back about, ohhh, six or seven years. I decided to rent a movie and drink a jumbo jug of the cheapest wine I could get my underpaid paws on. With jug in hand, I headed to the video store, and apparently already under the influence of something or other I selected Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. What prompted me to get this movie I'll never know. Growing up in Le Grand Blanc Nord we don't have White Castle and I had never been to one but was curious to see what the fuss was about.

Back at the ranch I proceeded to get shittered while watching this cinematic abomination, AND I LOVED IT. I laughed until I cried. I thought it was the funniest movie I had ever seen. And while I was not high, at least not without a prescription, I wanted some of those little White Castle burgers. They looked adorable. I'd never seen tiny burgers before. And the lengths Harold and Kumar went to to get White Castle? I figured it had to be good.

Fast forward to last week when Peter and I were making our list of must-do things for New York. Sadly, a lot of them revolved around food, i.e. Magnolia Bakery, authentic New York City-style pizza (which we never ended up having, sad trombone) and yes, WHITE CASTLE. There are apparently three locations in the city so we marked down the one on 8th Avenue. We went on Saturday after walking around the city for hours and we were famished and so ready to devour some of those succulent little burgers to see just how delicious they would be.

This was one of the dirtiest eating establishments I've been in, but never mind that - the food was absolutely awful. The food was disgusting. It was so bad that PETER, who can eat two double quarter pounders AND large fries AND not die, didn't finish his meal despite being starving. It was like sweaty buns with a slice of ham on them. They didn't look good, smell good, or taste good. So not worth the trek.

I don't know what Harold and Kumar were thinking. Granted, they were high in the movie, as I suspect most of the customers and staff were when we showed up there on Saturday afternoon judging from the CRACK DEAL we saw and overheard. Maybe this is an everyday thing in some places but I have never seen crack, let alone crack being purchased loudly in the middle of a fast-food restaurant at one-thirty in the afternoon. I thought those sorts of things were supposed to be kind of quiet? Back alleys and the cover of darkness and whatnot? Maybe we didn't appreciate the food because there weren't enough drugs in our systems. Or maybe it just sucks.

Yesterday started off as a crappy Tuesday. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it...Monday may be the redheaded stepchild of weekdays, but if that's the case, Tuesday is the fat asthmatic kid that Monday throws his moldy sandwiches at on the school bus. On Mondays I come into the office feeling semi-fresh and kinda sorta ready to go. I'm rejuvenated and I've got my brand-spankin'-new to-do list of tasks for the week...clean slate, all that jazz. By Tuesday the post-weekend happy buzz leftover has completely evaporated and there isn't even any good teenybopper TV to lift me out of my funk. Yesterday was no exception. In addition to nursing my headache which seems to want to take up permanent residence inside my skull and navigating the daily cluster-eff that is merging morning traffic on the Mackay Bridge (SERIOUSLY, IT IS NOT THAT HARD TO LET ONE CAR GO AND THEN DRIVE BUT ASSCLOWN FUCKTARDERSON AND SLOWY McRIDESTHEBRAKESALOT HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT THE TECHNIQUE), the typical work dramas were ongoing, my apple had a bruise on it, I dropped my mittens into a puddle, and on and on it goes. Boo-frickity-hoo.

ANYWAY, I got home from work and that frown was quickly turned upside down when H2B decided to stop teasing me with the big V-Day plans he's been hatching for next month and fessed up to why he asked me to take Feb. 13 off work. Guess where I'm going??!!



I couldn't be more excited. We fly out early in the morning on Friday, February 13 (unlucky, I'm scared and come back to N.S. on Sunday, February 15. It's a pretty quick trip, so we probably won't take in too many activities--we aren't planning on any Broadway shows or hockey games, for example; they just eat up too many hours out of an already short stay. We're probably going to spend the vast majority of time just walking the streets and ogling stuff with amazement, like two country bumpkins who are just getting out of the sticks.

Super super pumped for Central Park (maybe even a carriage ride...God, we're cheesy!), a meal at Tavern on the Green, checking out Chinatown and Little Italy, seeing the Statue of Liberty, probably getting totally lost in the subway and ending up in the ghetto to die, and of course...


SHOPPING!! I'm going to go absolutely nuts. So many stores I want to visit: Macy's, Bloomingdales, Barneys, Topshop, H&M (we don't have it here, so it's kind of a big deal), Sephora, Saks...but I'm also excited to see the smaller markets and independent vendors. I am going to blow so much cash it's going to be ridic.

My trusty camera will follow, of course, and I hope to have a million new photos on Flickr afterward. In the meantime, the countdown is definitely on and I can't wait to see the Big Apple, even just for a couple of days. I think the plan is to pound enough Red Bull into ourselves that we go nonstop the entire time we're there.

Anyone have any suggestions? Must-sees? Cheap thrills? Things to avoid at all costs?