Perhaps one of the most iconic locations of New York City is 6th avenue between 48th-51st streets, aka, money-making high-rises, Asian tourists sporting fanny-packs and Rockefeller Center. The bright red signs of Radio City Music Hall, which brings music junkies to the overly-crowded shopping area, where, if they don't first die of terror from pedestrians taking photos of every single neon sign, they get to see some truly magical performances, while enjoying some banana pudding from Magnolia.
I once worked in the McGraw Hill Building located on 48th street and 6th avenue, so this area always hits home for me. Every morning that I would get off the subway and walk into this particular high-rise, I felt like I was somehow changing the world, or at least, carried my attitude on the sleeve of my silk dress and pranced inside with my 5" Prada heels to source some companies and make some deals with all the pride and passion that one would have if they too were working at a top Venture Capital fund. I was on a very important call prior to taking these photos and had just traveled into NYC from Detroit, having slept a mere two hours the night prior. After being on the third call of the day, and what seemed like eternity (eternity being over three hours), you can see the mountain of exhaustion plastered over my face and particularly through the massive bags under my eyes.
I love this city. I love its rudeness, it's aggressive behavior and it's competitive edge. I love how when you try and schedule a trip to visit your best friend that is in town for literally 20 hours, you end up working the entire time, and by entire I mean from dusk til' dawn every single night, but you love every minute of it. I love how you can instantly pick up right where you left off with your closest friends or former colleagues like it was yesterday. I miss my friends. I really miss my friends. I yearn to be by my friends, hang out with my friends and do the normal kind of friend things that friends do- like walk around on a lazy Saturday afternoon and find a Mexican bar where you get crappy peppermint hot chocolate and laugh about past memories in college or attempt to eat and enjoy your Shake Shack on a normal Sunday evening, but you're suddenly jumping on your chair and running away with your burger in one hand due to an infestation of rats to the left of your chair; I'm still recovering from this traumatic experience. I am lucky to have my friends. I am blessed that they understand how insane my life is and put up with my constant roller coasters of change. I am grateful to have built relationships so deep in depth and so grand in substance that no matter where I am or where they are, we still remain close friends. Some people are lucky to have one, if not two, really close and incredible friends in their life. I am blessed to have many. To those that I saw during my trip- I'm still smiling with happiness. To those that I didn't- I miss you and we shall be reunited again soon.