Getting ready for Valentine's Day

1.29 Day Sept: A Vacation to Remember

My last day in New York. My dad and I had so much fun and I couldn't have thought of a better way to spend a week together. We went everywhere, walked everywhere, and man do I have a lot of blisters! Our hotel was amazing and I'm so glad I was able to see some of my close friends.



The last day we went back to our favorite little Italian place for some cappuccinos and chocolate croissants. After we felt a little warmer, we walked up to the entrance for the Empire State building. Even though I didn't race across traffic or get asked to leave on the last elevator down, the conservatory was still beautiful and a great place to see the entire city. Dad took some great pictures and although it was freezing it was well worth it.

My New York experience still wasn't complete though. I just had to find the perfect knock-off. Graydon and Patty told us that everything I would ever want was on Canal Street so hopped on the subway downtown. As soon as we emerged from the big hole in the ground, about five people starting shouting and saying, "You want chanel? Rolex right here. Very good Dolce and Gabbana." And then I heard two little words..."Juicy Couture." Haha. My New York friends would kill me if they knew I actually bought a cute little Juicy knock-off. But what can I say, no one will ever know the difference in Seattle.

That night I took Dad to this cute little pizza place down the street. It was probably the best pizza I have had inside the US of A and even the antipasto was to die for.

Our night was followed by an episode of 24. Who can resist Jack Bauer?

Thanks for a great vacation Dad! :)

1.28 Day Six: Man does my uncle sure know how to drive in New York traffic

Dad and I met up with my uncle and aunt on Lexington and 40th. They drove up in their rabbit and we headed for Chelsea. It's been such a long time since I've seen my aunt Patty and was great to see her again. We all had a great time catching up and telling old jokes...and new ones.

We toured around Chelsea into some shops and even found a Marrakesh hanut (store). We visited one of the most expensive clothing stores in the state and my overwhelming need for a knock-off designer bag only grew heavier.

Lunch was great, complete with a burger for me and eggs for everyone else.

We drove by the World Trade Center site and Graydon dropped us off as we looked around. The last time I was there, about 7 years ago, my mom, Patty, my cousin Emily and I took a picture with the twin towers behind us. It's hard how so many things have changed.

Later on we drove into the Wall Street area and Graydon drove like a pro. We had a Guinness for Grandpa at Ulysses's and then continued down to China town.

We said goodbye around 5:30 when they dropped us off at our hotel. It was great to see them and I'll have to come visit them more often.

That night Dad and I walked into Times Square and found some good New York cheesecake. We stopped at Rockefeller on our way home but the snow made us return to the hotel sooner than we would have liked. Brrrr....

1.27 Day Cinq: Parisian brunch and New York shopping

My Parisian memories continued that morning during brunch at Nero’s. Julie took Paige and I to a great restaurant in the trendy meat packing district. We ordered their brunch special which gave us a choice of choosing a breakfast item and two hours of unlimited refills of an adult beverage. It felt great not to be carded when I ordered eggs Benedict with a bellini. We didn’t use up our full two hours but we did enjoy a little dessert mid-afternoon, the best mousse au chocolat I have ever tasted!

I met Paige’s good friend Lindsay and we went shopping a little New York style.

It was a great weekend and I will make sure to see these girls before another four and a half years pass.

Day Quatre continues...

Friday night Dad escorted me to Julie’s apartment via le metro. The plan was to meet around seven and then go out to dinner and catch up. When we arrived at Greenwich Village, I was a little surprised. I said to Dad, “I thought it was going to be a mall or something, you know, like University Village.” He just laughed and guided me westward toward my rendezvous point.

Julie buzzed me up and Dad went in search of some New York pizza and he told me later that he walked all the way back to our hotel. Quelle surprise.

It was so great to see my friends after nearly four and a half years. In Paris they had become my sisters and now I was the same age as they were when we lived sur boulevard St. Michel. We talked about how our lives had changed and had fun retelling old stories and making new ones.

That night we went to a great restaurant called the Bluewater Grill and got lucky with their affordable fixed menu due to New York’s restaurant week.

I remember thinking in Paris that one day I would be as glamorous and chic as my Parisian friends. Looking at them now I can only think the same thing. Julie has an amazing job in New York working in fashion and Paige is attending the CIA to become a great chef. Being with them that night I remember how inspired I was when we met in Paris and it felt great that those feelings never went away. I feel lucky to have friends who make me keep working hard for what I want and live life to its fullest.

1.26 Day Quatre: Will it be walking or dancing?

So far I have counted about twenty Starbucks in the Manhattan area. I know exactly what you’re thinking. Why am I wasting my time counting coffee shops? I think there are more here than in Seattle.

Today was the coldest it has been, about thirteen degrees. That put a little damper in our daily walking extravaganza but we got to know the subway a little better. I think Dad was disappointed I wasn’t up for walking 500 miles in the cold.

Dad and I toured Bloomingdale’s and Bergdof’s and I had to swerve in order not to get sprayed with Prada perfume. Did they believe me when I blamed it on allergies?

I fantasized about buying the Manolos and Juicy Couture but figured it would be better to save that kind of investment for a future home loan. Yes, they are that expensive.

We walked to Central Park and saw the cool apple store encore. I was freezing and talked Dad into returning to the hotel.

“You mean we can’t walk back to 37th and 8th today?” he said with a sad face. I reminded him he would be able to continue the BA walk tomorrow.

As we bought our tickets for the subway, I was thinking about the first time I took the metro in Paris. On my first day I took a boat tour sur la Seine. After, some of the girls and I decided to take the metro back home. I had never been on anything like the metro before and so we were all kind of confused about how to use it. We figured it out though and before long I became a master.

These same girls are meeting me tonight for une soiree. I haven’t seen them since I left Paris four long years ago. When I met them I was seventeen, and in Abba’s words, a “dancing queen.” Julie and Paige took it upon themselves to corrupt my naïveté, so I am waiting for the adventures New York will hold for us tonight

1.25 Day Trois: Building new memories and blisters upon old neighborhoods

Our morning began in darkness. No, literally! Dad woke me up at 6 o’clock and dragged me to the metro stop. I decided I would indulge his early morning walk over the Brooklyn Bridge, but only with a Starbucks in hand.

My metro skills came back to me right away, but obviously not the correct name. Dad kept reminding me that people call it the “subway” not “le metro”. Is it just me or does it sound better en francais?


When we emerged from the giant hole in the ground, the yellow men on the sidewalks guided us to the beginning of the bridge. I was shocked at all of the attractive people running and riding bicycles. It was the last place I would have guessed. Too bad there were all so fast.

Walking under the supporting cables, dad told me a little about the man who was responsible for this masterpiece. He was the only man who could see the construction of the bridge in his mind, and no one believed it could be possible. He started his project and ironically he ended up sick in the hospital, directing the construction from his sick bed. Fortunately there was lots of traffic so I only had to listen to bits and pieces of Dad’s history lesson.

I was prepared for a full morning walk but was surprised when it only took us about 29 minutes to walk all the way across. I thought that the linking bridge between the best place on earth and the former home of the Dodgers would have been longer, but my feet welcomed the short distance.

Finding breakfast in Manhattan proved much more difficult than storming the bridge. We settled on Starbucks after inspecting at least three unacceptable eating sites. The baristas definitely had a New York attitude, good thing I knew how to order.

We got back to the hotel around the time everyone else was waking up. Our Brooklyn invasion felt even better when we realized the doorman was showing up for work when we were ready for a nap.

The next chapter in our day emerged as BA (Before Aura). Dad led the tour to Herald’s Square, the home of Macy’s. I got a kick out of the wood escalators.

“How old is this place?” I couldn’t hear his answer.

As we dove deeper into the garment district, I had to remind Dad that he wasn’t walking Kyoko but instead it was his daughter. I did appreciate his steering me away from the metro grates though, saving my heels.

While I dodged garment racks, I quickly regretted my decision not to buy that perfect silver purse I spotted in Vegas.

“Aura, you’re going to find plenty of knock-offs in New York. Better and cheaper bags are all over the city. Just wait, you’ll see!” Obviously Mom was thinking of the BA New York.

There are two things Dad repeated, “Can you indulge me a little more?” and “Can we make it?” referring to the blinking pedestrian lights.

In no time I retraced my parents’ steps to their well discussed New York apartment. Even though I didn’t take the back entrance through the Hispanic bar or have Kyoko at my side, all of the stories I’ve heard came to life. I didn’t realize it was so close to Times Square, man how freakin’ cool! It was like I was back in 1981.

We took a break from the cold inside Manganaro’s. Even though they didn’t have their famous cheesecake, they did have excellent lasagna. I was finally cured from my nightmare of being forced fed carbs.

We didn’t dine alone. Ordering our lunch I could only laugh when Dad pointed out Ian Buchanan’s signed autograph. Of course that led to more Kyoko and Jimmy Dean stories. I smiled and laughed, even though I have heard all of them more than 10 times.

When I told my friend Julie my plans for going to Times Square, she told me that she would only go there if her arm had been bitten off...and that would be because the last doctor was there. I guess all New Yorkers feel this way but I enjoyed the tourist trap and the blinking lights.

It was time to head back to the hotel and Dad slowly rejoined me to present day. I made him indulge in some of my shopping needs. Why is it that the best stores grow like weeds in New York but are no where to be found on the West coast?

I think Vegas spoiled my shopping mojo because the only thing I bought was a black pashmina that replaced my Parisian scarf.

After heavy duty shopping I felt a need for a cosmo. I guess New York has a sense of humor because instead I encountered a different kind of cosmo…a West Highland Terrier…unexpectedly named Cosmo. Haha!

Speaking of dogs, and trust me, that’s all I heard about today…man my dogs were barking. Man I’m glad I’m getting those idiomatic expressions down!

1.24 Day Deux: Find your inner artist and good walking shoes

It started with a Cappucho! And the two finest chocolate croissants ever produced by a New Yorka. In the words of Louis Vuitton, it was in the bag.



The wind blew us steadily uptown and before we knew it we could see the park. All of the mannequins in the oh-so-chic New York shops kept us company, some even asked for my number.


I was so excited to see some of my favorite stores, including H&M, Zara, and Tiffany's



My eyes lit up when we walked past Juicy. What else can I say?

At the corner of Eloise’s hotel, I thought the glass triangle of Le Louvre had moved to New York. Looking closer I realized it was the same architecture, but instead it was a square and home to the apple.

We looked in on Monsieur Trump and just to make us feel better we fired his doormen.


We faded from 5th Avenue but couldn’t find a freakin’ Starbucks! Fortunately, saving all of those New Yorker clippings finally paid off for my dad. We immediately entered a 17th century, the Frick mansion. Who would have thought that the best museum ever was hidden in some dead white man’s crib?.

Before agreeing to pay the cover charge, Dad made the cashier sign an affidavit promising a minimum of three Vermeers.

Our tour guides were well dressed but curiously silent. Some didn’t even look at us. In one palatial parlor, we met Rembrandt’s bill collector. His intensity captured our full attention as well as that of the former call girl in the adjoining room. Good thing Whistler’s mother was away in France; she would have been aghast. The large rooms of the mansion reflected a specific personality. Every painting was a keeper; each dying to tell you a story.

Hunger drove us back to the 21st century in a mostly northern direction.

Hidden amidst upscale retail, a noisy Greek restaurant invited us loudly to dine. Even before ordering, we knew we were in a genuine Manhattan restaurant. As Dad and I discussed what we would order, the nearby New Yorkas quickly pointed out which plates had to go back.


We hop-scotched through the dog shit all the way to Thomas Crown’s playground, the New York Metropolitan Museum.

We joined Americans in Paris, missing Gene Kelly, but encountered Mary Cassat, the Sargent, and Homer. Throughout our visit through the Met, we were compelled to compare it to the atmosphere at the Frick. Even as we sat in front of the Vermeers, we felt a little disappointed. They didn’t evoke the excitement we felt earlier. The Frick’s Vermeers burst with storylines and possibilities. The offerings at the Met were nicely framed.

Before long, the personality of the Met emerged. They want to help but there are limits. You can take photographs but not with a flash. You can speak REALLY LOUD but not on a phone. Their large three story museum brims with old masters and new attempts at mastery. Three of the galleries we visited were occupied by a living person who brought his easel, tube paints, brush collection and a large helping of courage.


I can’t imagine what Simon Cowell would have said if he were to walk by.


One of the painter/copyists passed on that lining up permission is not too tough. He returned to his ipod and added another bad brushstroke. All in all, the museum is right to accommodate the fellows we saw today. Their work has little chance of ending up where it started even if they had used flash and cell phones.



It was a long Frickin' day!