This past weekend I sipped strong alcoholic drinks out of teacups in a speakeasy hidden behind a toy shop in the Lower East Side. I also enjoyed a bucket of beer while soaking up the summer sun in the middle of a traffic circle on the Upper West. I walked from my friend’s apartment on 90th Street and Columbus to my apartment at 32nd Street and 2nd, and could tell I was getting close to my neighborhood once every other storefront was a bar or a sushi place. On Father’s Day, I sat with my Dad in the right field seats of Yankee Stadium, predicting Mark Teixeira’s grand slam to beat the New York Mets just moments before it happened.
What’s my point? That I’m a possible alcoholic, probable Murray Hill d-bag who very likely has the ability to predict the future? No. Technically, I live in Kips Bay.
My point is, I live in New York, where random interesting things happen whenever you open your eyes, and I do a lot of things here, which means if you read my articles, you may be inspired to do a lot of things too. I’ve been living here for 10 years, through good times and bad, and have experienced much of the coolness and crap that this city has to offer. I rant and rave a lot. Come experience it with me. Like a humble honeybee, I will buzz around Manhattan isle, pollinating my flower-like readers with allergy-causing observations. Okay, the metaphor doesn’t quite work. And how often do you see a bee in New York? But hey, it’s the name of this blog.
You will not be disappointed. Unless you’re looking for naked pictures of Jamie-Lynn Sigler. I’m keeping those to myself.