from new york with love

New York is a city of many parts. The Lower East Side is where the best brunch deals exist...in the world. Chinatown is where you can get an obscene amount of wontons for mere pennies (you might be left wondering what the sauce on them is, though). Midtown is to be avoided lest you're willing to risk being improperly identified as a slowly walking, subway-map-ignorant tourist. And Queens is as "New York" as Jersey City.

At any rate, no matter who you are or where you come from, there is a place somewhere within these five boroughs that makes you smile. Williamsburg has been that place for me. Wburg is equal parts trendy and ironic. Young people wearing Tom's shoes and glasses they stole from their grandmother's boudoir dine on fried chicken and macaroni and cheese in what looks like someone's converted kitchen while they discuss the most recent photography exhibition at the local gallery. In another way, it's a celebration of Americana and a defiant push for intellectually-led progress all at the same time.

I haven't been in Williamsburg long, but I already know that it will be missed. I won't be back to this lovely city for who knows how long and am just coming to the realization that it's likely I might actually miss the Latina ladies fighting (or are they just chatting?) in the beauty shop and the Hasidic Jews making me feel like a dirty, modesty-lacking show boat every time my knees are exposed. Hell, I'll even miss my peers with their jean cut offs and Patrick Bateman hair cuts.

Until another time, goodbye Williamsburg. Adios New York.

Sweet, sweet Williamsburg