With life being more normal and less new-and-exciting these days, I find myself often going days without posting a new entry on the blog. Taking my guilt-tendencies into consideration, I then end up feeling so guilty for not writing that I end up procrastinating even more – forming a vicious cycle! So we installed the feedburner software to the left of this entry. (See: Get the latest post in your inbox). If you want to receive a new post as I write it, rather than having to go into the blog daily to see if there’s something new, please add your email address to the entry field on the left and you’ll receive the blog post as an email (complete with photos and everything). That’ll save me some guilt and you some time, which means we both benefit!

Though we’ve only been in our apartment for a month (today) it seems that we’ve already lost that just-painted, just-professionally cleaned lustre that comes standard with that new home. So John and I took a big step and employed a cleaning lady to come in once every two weeks! At $70 a time it’s quite the investment, but we decided that rather than spending every weekend up to our elbows in cleaning scrubs, we’d pay someone to do a proper clean every second Tuesday and then we’d do light cleaning in between. Today is the first day and I feel slightly anxious thinking that someone is in our apartment without me being there to help strip away our dirt. Isn’t guilt a funny thing? I’m truly looking forward to heading home this evening to a spick-’n-span home and get into a freshly made bed after taking a shower in a freshly-scrubbed bathroom. Sigh…

There’s a certain kind of pervertedness to the volume of the siren on a New York Fire Truck. While I fully understand the urgency that comes with getting to a fire on time, saving people’s lives and dousing uncontrollable flames to protect people’s private property, I simply don’t see why the siren should alert everyone in a 10-city block radius to the fact that a fire truck is passing through. (Same goes for NYC ambulances, by the way – imagine being the poor guy in the back of that ambulance…I think the noise would double my anxiety!)

A fire truck in the city has a continuing wailing siren and the siren operator on-board has the ability to add deep bass honks over the underlying screech. It’s ridiculous and a big part of me wonders if it’s not partly the reason most boys dream of becoming fire fighters…men are into loud noises, controlling ‘water hoses’ and big trucks, after all!

Yesterday one year ago John and I took that stretch limo down to City Hall and, in front of three of our (now) closest New York friends, we promised to be together forever. And I am breathless at the thought of it having been one year ago already. (Time flies when you’re having fun?) I felt a bit apprehensive about celebrating our one-year anniversary as we’ve never really treated our ‘marriage’ as the traditional version of it. I mean, there’s the surname thing – I haven’t changed mine, then there’s the ring-thing – neither of us wear wedding rings and the fact that we never celebrated with family and friends, which makes it feel…less than the real thing, I guess. And ever since that fairytale wedding we attended in Bali, I had really felt a little depressed about the fact that we had missed out on so much magic because circumstances forced us to make magic on a very different premise (and much, much smaller budget! – I got married in $18 shoes and a worn dress, for goodness’ sakes!). But what yesterday did for me was to make me realize that, while those things are important, it’s much more important that – one year on – John and I are still together, very happy and growing closer every day. And without our ‘make-do-I-do’, that wouldn’t have been possible.

To celebrate this day, John had organized a day trip out of Manhattan to Shelter Island, a luxury island situated about 3 hours by car from Manhattan. We rented a Mini Cooper, picked up some breakfast bagel-cream-cheese and an iced coffee and drove out to the very tip of Long Island (one of the other boroughs of New York). On the way we stopped at an enormous retail outlet mall to get some running shoes and office outfit staples (got to love Calvin Klein on sale!) and then we drove on to our destination. A car ferry ride, two more coffees, many stops for mini walks on the beach and an extended stop at the local cemetery later, we settled down at the island’s best restaurant for oysters, a beautiful merlot and gorgeous dinner. Some antique shopping and a very traffic-heavy ride back, we got home at 11pm and fell into bed exhausted from all the rich beauty and fresh air. What a perfect day to celebrate the perfect year!

Summer really announced itself with a hot-as-hell bang this weekend and as a treat to myself for surviving it, I finally went to see Sex and the City: The Movie last night. I loved it. It was the best $12 I’ve spent in a long time (excluding the cost of my large diet Coke and Popcorn, of course!) – the girls were just as fabulous over 40 as they were 13 years ago when I first fell in love with the show. The brands, the shoes, the emotions, Samantha’s larger cleavage and Miranda’s chic-er wardrobe…it swept me up and I never wanted it to end. But, like all good things, it came to an end. Kristina and I traipsed outside with the hordes of other star-struck girls, into the warm and muggy night, to stand on the sidewalk for a couple of minutes before we ventured home…wishing we were wearing impossibly high heels rather than our flats, wishing our hair would magically curl/straighten/bounce-just-right like our heroines in the movie. But it never does. And that’s the reality of it. In the end you’re just stuck with your own life, your own John (!) and your own limited (despite the raised eyebrows about the size) shoe collection – which consists of mostly flat, comfortable and really worn numbers.
And you know what, that ain’t half bad either. That said, it is nice to escape for a while and be utterly and completely fabulous, isn’t it?

The past week and a bit has been a whirlwind of flying, unpacking, picnicking in Central Park, shopping (for house and office), meeting friends, celebrating John’s birthday and generally going from life in paradise back to life in the fast lane. And yet, every now and then I catch myself sniffing the air for a remnant of Bali, or looking down on the sidewalk, expecting to sidestep a beautifully prepared offering yet finding myself dodging the remains left there by an apartment poodle on its latest ‘walkie’. Life in New York is back in full swing. And spring has truly sprung! Airconditioning units are being switched on and the days are long and sunny. It’s gorgeous.

I’ve been toying with the best way to relay our trip to Bali and Singapore on this blog and have found myself dodging doing it. I just do not feel equipped to eloquently enough put into words how wonderful a trip this was. The beauty of the people, the unkept wild beauty of nature, the fresh delicious foods and the fun we had as a thrown-together-with-the-Sjölunds family cannot be done justice by mere words. So I thought of posting a good couple of pictures to try and portray what will go down in my book as the best holiday ever. Unfortunately I haven’t yet figured out where John has saved all the images, so I promise…as soon as I figure it out, you’ll see some more!