Monks who play punk

I've written about them already, but now they're getting big publicity: Check out this article on the front page of today's New York Times City section.

I went to the Catholic Underground a few times and was amazed every time at how deep these monks are, while managing to send crowds of 500+ teenagers into fits of laughter. It is not surprising that dozens of men want to join that order each year - they are serious about what they believe in, they live it, and they are so fulfilled by it that it shines through in their eyes and in every word they say.

Images

Finally, a few photos.

Farewell brunch in New York, March 17th. (more)


Medjugorje, Palm Sunday weekend. (more)

In case you don't know yet, late spring is the best time of year to be in Vienna. So, if you live here, get out your bike and go for a ride. And if you don't, get out ... well ... your credit card and buy tickets.

Catching up

I've been a real slacker on the blog - but somehow sometimes real life is full enough and does not need constant documentation on the web. Just some quick highlights of the past weeks:

Medjugorje. A little village in Bosnia where the virgin Mary is said to appear. Believe it or don't, but all I know is that this place gives you peace, the type of peace that reaches far deeper than regular relaxation does. I went there with a lot of questions, and came back with only little tiny fragments of the answers I expected, but a general consciousness that I needn't worry.

Easter. Anna, the eternal Easter egg duel champion and passionate chocolate bunny hunter, was sorely missed, and her absence gave the whole thing a bit of a grown-up flavor. She, in the meanwhile, was exploring the jungles of Tamil Nadu with her boyfriend Flo. Nevertheless, we had fun dying eggs with a few cousins, and enjoyed the family, the food and the brilliant weather at the Mill.

New place. In May, I will be moving out of the sibling apartment into a bit of a Skypad of my own. I'll be sharing an amazing little duplex on the roof with Aglai - complete with a balcony to sunbathe (oh yeah) and have breakfasts on lazy Saturday mornings. It still needs some work, but Aglai the styler will surely do a brilliant job.

Life in Vienna is good. New York has its irresistible charms, but there is something about the slow-paced charm of this city that gets me every time. Dodging horse-drawn carriages in the streets, people sitting around lazily in coffee houses, and a view of a beautiful gothic church from the window of the century-old university library... add in real summer weather in April, and try to beat that.

Resurrection

AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;

Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Christ—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins

Settling in, and out again

I'm settling in, slowly but surely. Kicked off my thesis project and took my last course ever. Caught up with most of my friends - including Aglae with a big belly (son due in June) and Isabel, the brand new fiancée (wedding in September). Spent the weekend shovelling gravel at the Mill and enjoyed the company of my family, minus Anna who is still working as a nurse in a hospital in Jalandhar, India.
Back to the busy life.

However, Easter is around the corner, and I'll be hopping on a bus to Medjugorje on Friday to spend a long weekend in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but shrubs, hills, silence and prayer. Given that about 40 of us are going, there will surely be time for fun as well, but I am really looking forward to some peace and quiet, and some quality time with the Man Upstairs.

I'm home

Back to the city of Käsekrainer, coffee houses, horse carriages, church bells, bakeries, grumpy waiters, and slow pace. The place where walking for five minutes actually gets you someplace. Where your cup of coffee comes with a complimentary glass of water and a silver spoon. Where you can live on thirty euros for almost a week. And where no one wears sweats.

Yet, I am missing things.

The buzz. Skyscrapers. Sushi. Food deliveries. Warm, fuzzy towels fresh from the dryer. Central Park. Diversity. Lights and colors. Ziploc bags. Paying by credit card. Grand Central Station. Dog walkers. Smiles. The sea. Yellow cabs. Conversations with strangers. Free refills. Fireplaces. Friends.

What I don't miss:

Coffee in paper cups. Having your check slammed down the second you swallow your last bite. Overcrowded subways. Trash. Paying for received calls. Dodging deadly umbrellas on crowded sidewalks when it rains. Smoke detectors. Doors that lock "the wrong way". The things they call bread. Taxes. Skim milk.

Funny how it takes a while until home feels like home.

See you, New York

A fun brunch with 20 friends
St. Paddy's Day parade watching
Conversations by the fireplace
A long walk in the park
Some pub-hopping and Guiness-drinking
Breakfast and brunch, consecutively
Two churches
Coffee at Penelope's
Wiener Schnitzel
Emma
Hugs
And a few tears.

I'm going home, but I'll be back.

Quirks

New Yorkers are a breed of their own. If you pay a few bucks extra, you can get anything you want here - and directly to your doorstep, too: the paper, food, drinks, groceries, videos, you name it. In fact, I recently saw a sign in a shop window: "I want it all, and I want it delivered."
It gets better, though.

Try nine-year olds at beauty salons, getting their nails done.

Or rain coats, "party collars" and faux fur (!) designer coats for dogs.

But think what you may, citizens of the Big Apple do have a sense of humor, paired with real dedication to the cause. Here are a few examples I stumbled upon myself in the past weeks.

The Naked Cowboy, who stands on Times Square, rain or shine, in white speedos, boots and a Stetson, playing his guitar and posing for tourists.

A young guy I recently spotted on the subway one early Saturday morning, carrying a long black bag on his back. When asked what he was carrying, he pulled out a giant, "custom-made" light saber and demonstrated a few moves he had learned in his light saber fighting club.
Missed that photo op, unfortunately.

A loving fiancee who dedicated a bench in Central Park to her future husband:


And, lastly, a scribbled response to a graffiti statement:


Gotta love it.

On a different note, between trips to Yale, DC and last minute errands, time is flying by. The next blog (including pictures from the past weeks) might already be written from my room in Vienna - hard to believe!

In short

It's been a while, and a lot has been going on. Just a few snapshots:

Work. I wrapped it up last Wednesday, and it has been a good experience. Met amazing people, made valuable contacts, learned a bit more, and had many opportunities to observe how nonprofits are managed around here, which in many ways seems fundamentally different from the way it is done back home. I've streamlined my questions for my thesis a little, and I am ready to go when I get home. I was spoiled rotten with a tasty Japanese farewell lunch and a Starbucks mug with the NY skyline on it, courtesy of David, the cool program director.

Meetings. One of the great results of my time at Babson and the internship is the fact that I kept meeting people who were interested in performance measurement in nonprofits (my thesis topic) and were willing to share what they know. This morning, I had the chance to meet with Michael Caslin, who teaches a course on Social Entrepreneurship at Babson this semester and works for NFTE, an amazing organization committed to teaching entrepreneurship to disadvantaged youth. I had 20 minutes to get as much as possible out of him, which was tricky, but worth it. I have a few more interesting meetings coming up before I leave the Big Apple on the 19th.

Pia. Her visit significantly raised my museum, opera and concert quota, and I think I have become a bit of a culture buff under her supervision. However, it was the fact that we could meet for coffee or lunch any time we wanted and have quality conversations that was the real treat. After having had an ocean between us for two years, it felt really good to have her around for five weeks. Her, Colin, Bill and I made a fabulous team and had a ton of fun together - these times will be missed! We said goodbye with a suitably Bavarian Weisswurst brunch at Zum Schneider.



Classy. On a whim, Colin and I joined Bill for the Frick Ball last Thursday. The museum was festively decorated, we were served shrimps and champaign by the water fountain and wandered around among the Rembrandts, Bellinis and Holbeins in our tuxedos and evening robes. My H&M and Cairo bazaar combo was not nearly as classy as the designer robes of the other female guests, but it's the attitude that counts, isn't it? Here's the official account - don't take it too seriously.

Now I have a little less than two weeks left to wander around, read, think, see people and wrap up the six months in the land of hot dogs and oversized milk cartons.
They will be well spent.

Fooled me

People can say what they want, but spring is NOT here. Saturday was nice and sunny, but the wind was freezing and as I walked home yesterday the ground was again covered in snow. It isn't as romantic as it sounds in this city, where snow turns to slush in a matter of minutes and speeding cabs spray you with dirty water.

The weekend was an unusually cultured one, for my standards. On Friday I met Pia at the Guggenheim right after work to get tickets for the "El Greco to Picasso" exhibition on Pay What You Wish Friday. The queue went halfway around the block despite the icy winds, but those who braved it were rewarded with a really good collection of Spanish art from the 15th to the 20th century. We then rested our feet in front of the fireplace at the Skypad, where Colin and Bill were waiting with a great movie and a TV dinner.

Saturday morning Colin and I had brunch with Stew, who put me up on my first night in Boston six months ago. He was visiting for the weekend, and we showed him some Viennese breakfast quality at Sabarsky.
In the evening things became even more Viennese when Pia, the boys and I met for dinner and the Magic Flute at the Met. In my more cultured years, when I was eight or nine years old, I remember lying on my stomach in front of my parents' stereo listening to that opera. The art director, Tony-winner Julie Taymor who also did the set design for Lion King, really managed to turn that old story into a magical fairy tale with her dancing puppets. After three solid hours of Mozart we turned to some live jazz and had a drink at the Carlyle. We brought the age average down by about 50% in that place, but loved it nevertheless.

On Sunday morning we dragged our sleep-deprived bodies out of bed for oatmeal and Eggs Benedict at Balthazar, followed by Mass and an exhibition of a Mexican schizophrenic painter, Martin Ramirez, at the American Folk Art museum. I had never heard about or seen outsider art before, and was pretty impressed by the talent of a poor Mexican immigrant who was locked away in a mental ward most of his life and refused to communicate in any way except through his artwork.

Finally, we put some "pop" into our cultural mix and watched the Oscars with Thierry, who is a film producer and also happens to be a friend of Florian Henckel-Donnersmark, who took home the little golden guy for this year's Best Foreign Film.
There was a lot of cheering and toasting.

It smells like spring

Colin promised that I wouldn't leave New York without catching a glimpse of spring. It seems like this might be true. The sky is clear, temperatures are rising and I heard birds chirping for the first time as I walked over to the Amish market to pick up some lunch yesterday.


Pia is leaving new York next Sunday, so we need to start some serious planning if we want to cram everything we've wanted to do into these last seven days. And although it's Lent, there's no shortage of things to do: Last night Geoff invited us to his one-room apartment for some real Italian dinner. The official reason was to say goodbye to Jeff, who we then discovered will be returning to New York in three weeks - hopefully in time to send me off with a proper St. Paddy's Day celebration. The good food and company was spiced up by Geoff's musical talent - who needs a stereo when you can have it all live, and of the highest quality! We did some singing, too, which felt good after a long musical hiatus on my side. [Photos]

Plans for the weekend:
Guggenheim Museum - finally
The Magic Flute at the Met tomorrow night
Early-morning breakfast at Balthazar
Maybe a visit to the Russian Bath

Never a dull moment in this town.

Decisions

decide from Latin decidere "to decide," lit. "to cut off", from de- "off" + cædere "to cut"

With a little more than three weeks to go until I end my six-month stint in the States, and with Lent finally slamming the brakes on the whirlwind that is my life, questions in need of answers are creeping back into my mind. Thesis topics. Career plans. Living arrangements. Friendships. Relationships. Possibilities and options galore, but things need to be decided.

A friend told me the other day that the root of the word "decide" comes from the Latin word caedere - to cut. A decision, consequently, involves finding out what matters and what doesn't, choosing a path and ruling out other options, and sometimes even severing the ties with things that you hold dear.

That's scary, and sometimes I'd rather just stick my head into the sand and have things work themselves out. On the other hand, I was brought into this world for a reason - this is something I strongly believe. I have been given talents and skills that are meant to turn this huge blank canvas that is my life into a gift worthy of God's approval.

The good things is, it doesn't all depend on me. All I need to do is make myself available.

Graphic update

So much to say, so little time. The weekend was eventful, Mardi Gras is being enjoyed while it lasts, and I still haven't decided on my Lenten resolution.
Until I find time for a proper update, here are the latest photos.
They are a bit scrambled, but I hope the captions do the trick.



Enjoy!

V-Day

I've always looked at Valentine's Day with a healthy amount of grudge and ridicule. First of all, I am not a big fan of pink. Or hearts, for that matter. Secondly, at least in Europe, it is a holiday that has been embraced by various manufacturers of candy, greeting cards, perfume and underwear more than by ordinary people.

But, as the say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Pia and I are no slackers, so we went and cooked up a fantastic meal for our two favorite men (and perpetual hosts, it seems) in the city. We did the Full Monty: shiny red heart garlands hanging from the chandelier, candles, a fire in the fireplace, and some fine Paolo Conte playing in the background.

The menu.
Aperitivo: Bite-sized Bratwurst bits with a heart-shaped dijon mustard dip by the fireplace, with a glass of Riesling.
Ouverture: Grilled goat cheese on a bed of baby spinach leaves, drizzled with honey.
Main course: Linguine with grilled shrimps, zucchini and cherry tomatoes in a sauce of capers, garlic, parmesan and olive oil.
Interlude: A vicious snowball fight on the roof terrace, waltz lessons in front of the fireplace, and Frank Sinatra sing-alongs.
Grande Finale: Kaiserschmarren with apple sauce and a good, hot cup of tea.

I think we feel better about each other now, St.Valentine and I.

Sleepless

In the City That Never Sleeps, I hardly ever sleep either, it seems.

Thursday found us watching the second part of the six-hour marathon that is "La Meglio Gioventu" (The Best of Youth), certainly one of the best films I have ever seen. Of course, brainy nerds that we are, we had to discuss the movie for another hour after it finished, which meant that we didn't get to bed until 2am.

I dragged myself through Friday at work, perfecting the rest-chin-on-left-hand-and-right-hand-on-mouse nap, and met up with Pia afterwards for a Veggie Burger at Spring Street Restaurant. From there, we headed to the Friday Happy Hour at The HappyCorp, a SoHo design company that opens its doors to those who know about it on Fridays and serves free drinks to a colorful crowd of art students and other interesting fellows. Sascha knew about it and told us where to go, so we met up with him and his Cooper union friends, and also got to know a few other memorable folks. Saad for example, whose name means "happy" in Arabic, and who frequents hipster clubs in Lower Manhattan on weekends. During the week, he works at Deutsche Bank, and I do hope he adapts his look to his corporate surroundings, because I couldn't believe it when he pulled his business card out of the pocket of his oversized white fake fur coat.

Pia, Saad and Sascha

Sascha's roommate Charles and happy party kids

On Saturday morning Pia and I got up early and stood in line for an hour and a half to get last-minute tickets for Paco de Lucia at the Carnegie Hall. Pia's friend Mark de Young joined us and we warmed up with New York's best hot chocolate and soft boiled eggs at Le Pain Quotidien before Pia and I took off to take advantage of the good weather and walk across Brooklyn Bridge. Making your way across a 500m long wooden walkway with hundreds of cars passing through underneath you is exciting enough, but having the Manhattan Skyline as a backdrop is quite a sight to see. (Photos to follow)

The Passion Fruit margharita that Bill treated us to before the concert that night felt very Sex and the City (mainly because my jeans and cowboy boots lost the battle against the serious Prada and Gucci action that was going on around us), and from there we climbed up to the dizzying heights of the Carnegie Hall gallery to see the world's best Andalusian guitarist work his fingers. Spicy (!) Buffalo wings and milk shakes at Brooklyn Diner concluded the night out, and the gang said goodbye to Mark and Sam and retreated to the Skypad, where we watched the remaining hour and a half of La Meglio Gioventu before collapsing into bed.

On Sunday we finally introduced Pia to Central Park, snuck into the Mandarin Hotel Bar to get a nice view of the park from above, and saw a (rather disappointing) exhibition on Slavery in New York and 9/11 relics at the New York Historical Society.

Needless to say, that night I slept very, very well.

Memorable

If my weekdays were movies, yesterday would have won the Oscar. It was one of those days that finds you lying in bed at night, feeling like you have witnessed something fundamental.

I am currently interning with the Scholar Rescue Fund, an organization that gives grants to scholars and academics who are being persecuted in their countries for different reasons: "Modern" views, religion, ethnicity, involvement with international agencies, human rights defense ... you name it. Since its inception in 2002, the program has rescued 110 scholars from 37 different countries and has found them places to teach in great schools all over the world. Recently, however, for obvious reasons, there has been a sudden surge in the number of Iraqi applicants. We are working on creating a report on academic repression worldwide, and I have been studying the life stories of these 110 grantees for the past month and a half and compiling data, trying to find patterns or connections between the situation of these brilliant and brave people and the promblems in their countries.

Yesterday we presented our findings to the SRF board of directors, a diverse group of interesting people: the former Dean of the University of Pittsburgh Medical School, the former senior VP of the Ford Foundation, the director of scholarships of the Open Society Institute, the President of the International Rescue Committee , and so on. The star of the evening, however, was Donnie George, the former director of the Iraq National Museum in Baghdad, who was all over the news when people looted the museum in the early days of the war and carried away or destroyed many invaluable cultural treasures. He was targeted by militias for cooperating with the US, had to flee his country, now teaches in the States and gave a little report on the situation of scholars in Iraq. I tell you, it is something else when you hear these stories first hand. (Read a great Washington Post Op-Ed piece by another of our Iraqi grantees here.)

After an afternoon of meetings, I changed into comfy jeans to meet Pia and a group of WYA interns for Polish food and a visit to the boys of Grassroots Films, an independent film company in Brooklyn run by a bunch of guys, partly coming from difficult backgrounds. They live together in a house and make amazing stuff. Most of them are Catholics, and their movies are pretty powerful. They are now working on their first full-length movie called The Human Experience and showed us some test shots and a teaser. I'd heard a lot about them since they are friends with guys from YOU!Mag, so it was great to meet them in person. We realized that we had quite a few common friends! Small world.

And, finally, I leave you with a quote I have been thinking about a lot lately: "Excellence means asking of oneself more than others do." - Jose Ortega y Gassett
Have I ever really strived for excellence? Is exceeding the expectations of others really all there is to excellence? Or is it more about finding and taking up that unique place in the world that I am meant to fill?

"If you are what you should be, you will set the world ablaze."
- Pope John Paul II.

Ice Age III

I am a proud citizen of an Alpine nation, but this past weekend, I have had to discover that it gets much, much colder in other parts of the world.

Plans for a Friday night tour of the East Village literally froze mid-planning, so Geoff, Jeff, Mark, Pia and I spent the entire evening at Rue B instead, guzzling down several glasses of wine and being slightly surprised by the stiff bill that ensued. Nevertheless, a little jazz band that played on an impressive 3-by-3-ft. "stage" and good conversation about hidden New York gems, bird-shaped cities, and marriage made it worth while.

Saturday was kicked off with scrambled eggs and much-needed advice at Cafe Sabarsky with Colin, followed by an oh-so-freezing Staten Island Ferry ride with Pia. After nearly being blown off the boat, we braved icy winds and made our way up to Bleecker Street via Ground Zero and Wall Street. With no feeling left in our hands, toes and faces, we stumbled into Caffe Vivaldi for a hot chocolate, delicious carrot cake and a roaring fire. The day ended with coq au vin and apple pie (courtesy of Scott and Morag) at the Skypad. Due to bachelor-pad-induced lack of furniture, I sat on an upside down laundry hamper.

On Sunday we had brunch at Le Pain Quotidien, went to Mass and after being treated to delicious West Side sushi by my new landlady Alexandra, I spent the rest of the afternoon writing letters and hanging out in front of the fireplace at the Skypad with Bill, Colin and Pia. The boys didn't seem to mind the interruption of their habitual weekend silence, and we wrapped up the weekend with a good movie and snippets of the Super Bowl, accompanied by chips and salsa, and the expert commentary of Bill.

A runny nose, sore throat and perpetually cold feet remain as reminders of Saturday's arctic expedition, but I already have new things to look forward to, like Standing Room tickets to Bellini's I Puritani at the Met tonight, with Anna Netrebko. Pia, the culture vulture, got us tickets, and one of the many benefits of her presence in New York is that she is forcing me to expand my cultural horizons beyond movie theaters, restaurants and jazz bars.

Once Upon A Time In The West

I always knew New York was diverse, but I wasn't aware of the fact that every neighborhood doesn't just look, it also feels completely different. I am lucky to be experiencing three very different environments during my stay here: First the Upper East Side, then Brooklyn Heights, and now the Upper West Side. I've moved all the way northwest right next to the beautiful Columbia campus, and am staying with Alexandra, a friend of my uncle's, and her son Antony in the former nanny's room. The area is full of gigantic, palace-like buildings, some of which are student dorms (!) and some faculty accomodation, like the house I live in. Walking along the breathtaking facades and peeking into lobbies with thick carpets, brass lamps and uniformed doormen makes me gasp, but actually walking in to one of these buildings is something I haven't yet gotten used to (and hope I never will).

After over a month of squeezing my belongings into a little leftover closet space or piling them up on top of dressers or chairs, it feels good to have my own private space for the last six weeks of my stay. I still expect to hear a cat snarling and hissing from time to time, but gladly I am only hallucinating...!

Pia arrived on Monday and it is great to have her around. How she manages to have a choice of three different invitations per night within a day of her arrival puzzles me completely - but I guess I'd better hang on to that girl, she is popular! So far we've done a little sightseeing around Times Square and Midtown, had delicious mojitos, and went to see a screening of The Mission at the MoMa Film Museum yesterday. Ennio Morricone composed the soundtrack and was supposed to give an introduction, but he had some sort of trouble with a concert and didn't show up. Still, I am enjoying the fact that he could have. Everything is possible in this city.
To top things off, Colin, Bill and Thierry treated us to some palate boggling Chinese food afterwards, complete with a frog on a log carved out of vegetables as a table decoration.

Plans for the weekend include some Guggenheim art and music tonight, a dinner at the Skypad tomorrow, and a little more sightseeing in between. My time in New York is halfway over, and I think I need to start making a To Do List to make sure I've seen all I've wanted to see.
On the other hand, my New York experience is so much more about people than sights and places - and that is exactly the way I like it.

Bye Cats, Hello West Side

It's time again. Three weeks have gone by so quickly, and I am moving out of the Cat Place tomorrow. Lets say we never exactly became friends, those kitties and I. They tolerated me (mostly), and I tolerated them (mostly). Diplomatic relations deteriorated when they tried to nibble on Amy and started ignoring the fact that they had a litter box, leaving me little fecal tokens of "appreciation" all over the apartment at regular intervals. In total, however, I think the operation was a success, given that they are alive and healthy and I had a wonderful place to stay for three weeks. I will miss breakfast treats from Tazza, baba ganoush from Sahadi's and the skyline, but I'm ready to explore the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

By the way, I have finally uploaded photos from the past weeks.
Last days in Boston and first days in NYC
More Christmas with the Morans
A tour of Brooklyn Heights
The week with Amy
I've been lazy with the camera, so many things have not been documented. Nevertheless, it's a nice little overview of what we've been up to lately.

Pia arrives tomorrow night, so the fun goes on. It will be great to have her around - many a fun plan is in the making, some of which involve Woody Allen, music, history, and - of course - food.

Mornings in the City

Few things are as satisfying as managing to roll your tired body out of bed early in the morning to watch the city wake up. Amy is visiting this week, and among many other amusements, we got up at 6am today to have breakfast at Balthazar with Colin before heading off to work (or sightseeing, respectively). Giant bowls of latte, French toast with bacon, eggs Florentine and the world's best waffles with berry sauce surely put a spring in your step - especially if it is topped off with laughter and a sunny day in the Village.

Other activities of the week included

• brunch at Robin des Bois, a funky little antique-store-gone-breakfast-joint in Brooklyn, followed by a walk through the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and a quick stopover at the B'klyn Museum
• long, cozy hours in front of the fireplace at the Skypad (Colin and Bill's apartment), drinking tea and wine, snacking away on crackers, watching movies and listing to arias on top volume with the lights turned down
• a high-quality conversation with dad during a quick lunch break over an Amish Market sandwich. There's nothing like a reality check with your parents to help get your thoughts organized.
• a spectacular three-course home-cooked dinner with the world's best babaganough from Sahadi's and some tasty wines
• massive amounts of dark and light ale at McSorley's Old Ale House, New York City's oldest bar with the boys, Amy and Papi and watching the State of the Union address in the company of Lower-Manhattan Bush haters
• a tour of Cooper Union by Sascha
• a Brussels reunion with Phil and Jeff tonight - of course, we will go play pool, ghetto-style. Just like old times at our Chaussee de Wavre intern flat.

Amy and Papi take off tomorrow - it's been great to have them around! One thing I've realized, though, amongst all the fun of having visitors: I am blessed with a group of great friends right here in New York, and they are really making every minute of my stay worth while.

[For those who are impatiently awaiting photos: I hope to finally upload them on the weekend!]