II.XXVIII.MMXXVI 🌳 A final, bittersweet mirror selfie in my charming, fakakta home and long-time respite in Sunnyside Gardens.
For a collective 12 years, these historic brick row homes and lush tree-lined streets have been my daily exhale from the chaotic energy that is NYC. This wasn’t just another NYC neighborhood or any old apartment.. it was dinner parties that got loud, “one martini at Maggie Mae’s” that turned into group therapy, hosting holidays with family and chosen family, life obstacles and heartaches, and experiences that shaped the person I’ve become today.
Sunnyside.. proud, Irish, immigrant-rich, deeply authentic and cuisine incomparable Queens - has woven itself into my identity. Leaving feels less like moving and more like shedding a skin.
Life loves a plot twist. Beautiful new chapters await in the city I love more than a black outfit. But Sunnyside Gardens and I are on an “It’s complicated” basis. This isn’t goodbye. It’s an Irish exit.
And yes, before my bitchy gaggle of gays leave a shady comment .. I 100% used this loving farewell to post a pic where the lighting hit like divine intervention. This angle worked for approximately sixteen seconds. I ate a bagel immediately after and that stomach definition is currently on sabbatical until further notice. STFU and let me have it. My mid section hasn’t been that flat since 1991 and probably won’t be again until my next St Barths trip (IYKYK) ♥️
