Back story: In the middle of 44th Street there was a divider of snow making two “lanes” of traffic. This NYPD patrol car came directly after a snow plow that should have put it’s plow down and cleared the snow divide… but didn’t. The patrol car followed the snow plow’s path (instead of going to one of the clear “lanes” on either side of the divide) and got stuck. This is a 1:34 of it’s struggle to get unstuck (condensed to :24), even asking a cab with a passenger inside to give it a little push. The patrol car finally got free after about 15 minutes of struggling and cars backed up for as far as we could see. It was all much funnier than this video, but here it is anyhow ;)

a photograph to remember that before it melted into a mess before it was a distant memory it was beautiful breathtaking, actually a photograph to remember that standing there face to the sky, heart open wide was a moment that couldn’t fit in a camera a photograph to take me back to when it was beautiful and the day had just begun
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a photograph to remember

that before it melted into a mess

before it was a distant memory

it was beautiful

breathtaking, actually

a photograph to remember that standing there

face to the sky, heart open wide

was a moment that couldn’t fit in a camera

a photograph to take me back

to when it was beautiful

and the day had just begun

I just got back from Portland/Vancouver after a few days with old friends and my grandfather’s 80th birthday extravaganza. B came down from Olympia and met me for the party weekend - thus fully immersing himself in three uninterrupted family fun days, and also stealing away with me for as much alone time as we could get. As I rolled my suitcase home post a Monday morning red eye flight, the sky opened up and unleashed the first NYC soft winter snow. The streets were empty and quiet, sun still new to the day. I wanted to turn to B and say something snarky about the weather and being awake before 8am, but he wasn’t there… my heart surged, and I realized that part of me was still in the Pacific Northwest. B and I have been apart before - usually it’s my gypsy legs running away, but this time, he’s the one that left. He sent me this photo of our Sunday escape to the Bagdad on Hawthorne Street (I wanted to show him the area we’d hang out in after high school/on lunch break), and he captioned it with this: pizza, beer, and my best friend. and what happiness feels like. Yeps. Exactly. Love and miss you madly, B.
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I just got back from Portland/Vancouver after a few days with old friends and my grandfather’s 80th birthday extravaganza. B came down from Olympia and met me for the party weekend - thus fully immersing himself in three uninterrupted family fun days, and also stealing away with me for as much alone time as we could get.

As I rolled my suitcase home post a Monday morning red eye flight, the sky opened up and unleashed the first NYC soft winter snow. The streets were empty and quiet, sun still new to the day. I wanted to turn to B and say something snarky about the weather and being awake before 8am, but he wasn’t there… my heart surged, and I realized that part of me was still in the Pacific Northwest.

B and I have been apart before - usually it’s my gypsy legs running away, but this time, he’s the one that left. He sent me this photo of our Sunday escape to the Bagdad on Hawthorne Street (I wanted to show him the area we’d hang out in after high school/on lunch break), and he captioned it with this:

pizza, beer, and my best friend.

and what happiness feels like.

Yeps. Exactly. Love and miss you madly, B.

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