In Honor of the One I Love

Looking Back....No matter where I go....my heart will always belong to one. New York City. My one true love.

I dreamed as a child of moving to the Big Apple and living among the famous elite, eccentric artists and smelly homeless. Ok-maybe that last part is a lie, but I did dream of what my life would be like in New York City from about the age of 13, a life beyond the small boring town I had been inhabiting.

When I was 18 I packed my bags and headed off to college in the city that has made and broken many a dream. Everyone knew I would live there, in fact there are people who had often told me I would never leave and scoffed at the idea of me leaving. I knew there was more to life than the 22.96 square mile island of Manhattan situated between the Hudson and East River.

There was a big world out there, and I wanted to be a part of it-a speck among many, a fish out of water-surrounded by places and people both strange and enticing to me. So at 24, I did leave, I left the only place that truly felt like home. And I don't regret leaving...but I find myself remembering lately, the life and love I left behind...

New York for some is a place to get rich, to find love, to realize a childhood dream, for some it's simply a great place to get laid and drunk on a daily basis, but for me, New York City represents the place where I was able to just be.

Growing up in a small town, I had to pretend to be something I wasn't. Happy. Composed. Strong. The struggles I faced at home, I kept to myself. But moving to New York, I could be me. Angry at times. Bitter if need be. It is fast paced, dirty, rude and at it's best- RAW and allowed me to act accordingly. New York City was the best teacher I ever had-it kicked my ass, and took me through a roller coaster of emotions, only to reveal my most basic instincts.

It was here that I fell in love for the first time. My first heartbreak. Friendships made. Bonds betrayed. The biggest loss of my life. And every time, when I turned to MY city for comfort, it held me, soothed me and then shoved me out the door to do it all over again.

Thank you NYC. You are all things good and bad to me. And we've had our problems but you will forever be home. I miss you. Until we meet again, dear friend.

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Jungle Fever

Living in any city in any country in the world, no matter how beautiful and exciting tends to be draining. The bright lights and constant commotion plug into your energy source to propel you forward, but at times they act as chains, suspending you in time and space. At times like this, many of us need to retreat, to find refuge in the tranquility, some call it the country or suburbs, but if you happen to be fortunate enough to live in Rio, you call it Parque Nacional da Tijuca. To be surrounded by lush forest, exotic wildlife and plentiful waterfalls and hiking trails, you need only hop on a bus and head towards the National Park.

Last weekend, feeling weighed down and tired of fast paced life here in Rio (believe it or not, it can happen even in the cidade marvilhosa) I headed to the park in search of a little peace and quiet, and found exactly that.

Spanning 46 square miles, it is considered the largest urban rain forest in the world. With beautiful panoramic views of the gorgeous landscape of rio, 30 or more waterfalls and multiple entry points, you can visit every week for the next 6 months and still find something new to discover each time. We spent a total of 6 hours wandering into and around the park and didn't even see a speck of what the park has to offer. We followed some decent and not so decent trails and came across about 12 waterfalls.

I have since taken a different route into the forest, which can be accessed through Santa Teresa, my bairro, but still haven't seen all there is to see. I hope to climb the Pico da Tijuca, hike to the top of Pedra da Gavea and see some more of the amazing wildlife that the jungle has to offer before I leave this great city.

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New and Improved

Pitiful. My dedication to this blog has been nothing short of inadequate. I realize my apprehension to write here is based on two things.

One being, this is not a travel blog. It was simply started to facilitate the purging of feelings, ideas and random insights into my unconventional decision to leave my country and life in pursuit of the unknown. Somewhere along the way I forgot this. I felt obligated to write of great adventures and list the MUST DO's in Rio, but guess what, I'm not a tour guide, nor do I have any desire to be.

My love of writing is selfish, it feeds my soul in a way that few things on this earth do-it clears my head and forces the chaotic ramblings of a silly girl to have structure and purpose. It will win me no awards, no great sums of money, but it helps me find meaning in the trivial and sometimes unexplainable. And that is enough for me. Some meditate, use drugs, I write. It's my escape.

My other concern was for the few people who I knew were reading this. Those invited and those who stumbled upon it unbeknownst to me. When I started writing, I hadn't considered that someone could google my name and stumble upon my little haven of words. I worried that I might offend or bore these visitors. Such a silly concept. But for this reason I chose not to write here because writing for "you" became a chore.

So now I'm taking back MY blog, writing nonsensical thoughts, lyrics to my favorite cheap teeny pop songs, my favorite quotes. Whatever I feel like. It's my place to vent and discuss. If it's read, wonderful. If not, I will write anyway.

So if you are here...welcome! :)

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