If you don’t already know, I have never been a fan of Brooklyn.  Why is this?  For starters, I prefer living in an area that is quiet.  I like walking down the street and barely seeing people (with the exception of people in their cars or by their homes); the quiet suburbanish feel that you can’t really find in Brooklyn, the fact that the blocks (by me) don’t feel cramped with houses and cars and narrow streets…you feel like you can breathe when you step outside, as opposed to breathing in someone’s cigarette as they walk in front of you in a way that you cannot get around them and speed ahead (yes, that happened to me in Brooklyn yesterday when I was exploring a little).  I love the fact that my apartment is in a private house (and I have my own entrance!) instead of in an apartment building, where you have to worry about a lot of people living under the same roof.  In truth, I just love my neighborhood.  Don’t get me wrong, there are annoying aspects to it as well.  A big annoyance (as I have been told repetitively) is that, to get to most places, a car is required.  I, having lived in Whitestone for over a half dozen years, and not owning a car myself, am used to this challenge and am not bothered by it (ok, maybe I am sometimes).  I can walk to the Laundromat, drug store and a bunch of other stores that satisfy me day-to-day, and if I need to go elsewhere, there’s always a way (just maybe not a convenient one).   Honestly though, once I’m home, most of the time I do not venture far.

Enter Brooklyn, of which I have recently been spending a lot of time in.  Why, do you ask, have I been in Brooklyn?  My boyfriend.  Last weekend, Billy moved there with two of his best friends.  They found a nice three bedroom in a Cobble Hill, and now I am forced to spend time there.  Yesterday, after having lunch with Billy’s parents and sister (who came to see his new place), and walking around the neighborhood a bit with them (apparently, walking is all anyone does in Brooklyn), I snatched his keys and stepped out on my own instead of sitting in front of the TV with Billy and his roommates.  I figured that I’d take a little walk and then come back and watch TV with them…but really, I was on a mission.  There was a small wine store that we passed by on route back to his house earlier that afternoon that I wanted to check out (which I gave as the reason for my leaving), but also, I wanted to check out a clothing/accessory shop that I saw, which was just a few blocks in a different direction. 

Upon exiting the building, there was a group of kids walking two dogs.  They took up the whole block so I couldn’t walk in front of them and was forced to walk at a slower pace…until I came to the intersection where they slowed down even more and I was able to speed up and walk in front of them.  A couple of minutes later I walked into the store.  There was a bunch of scarves and gloves, purses (handbags and evening bags), jewelry, and clothes; everything that I had expected it to have, but nothing that I ultimately wanted to buy.  There was a pair of white with light grey striped gloves that I really loved, but they were partially angora, so I gazed at them and ultimately put them back down.  I love the feeling of angora, and the gloves would have been warm, but angora sheds everywhere which can get irritating after the initial love for the item wears off…not to mention the fact that my winter coats are all wool (and dark colors), and the hairs would show up right away.  Maybe I’ll go back in there and get them anyway, lol…  There was a necklace that I liked, and a clutch, but I didn’t like either of them enough for the price that was being charged.  Oh, and the clothes were all really weird and had odd patterns on them.  Needless to say, I walked out of the store with nothing. 

The next stop on my journey was the little wine shop.  I, who have a favorite wine store, have trouble buying from other places (although recently I just found two places that ship two wines I love that my belov’ed store does not carry, so I guess I am branching out…a little).  I honestly am never as satisfied with a bottle unless it comes from my store.  Before I even venture to my wine store, I go onto their website and do a little research (ok, a lot of research) on the type of wine that I want, and I read (and read, and read, and read) until I select a few that I want to try, a few being a stack that I want to try of which I allow myself a few different bottles to choose and actually purchase.  I really do love my wine store.  But, seeing how I am supposed to be giving Brooklyn a chance, I walked into the little wine shop and looked around.  The first thing I noticed that irritated me was that, although the wine did seem to be separated by country, the sections were not labeled.  Also, being a little shop, they didn’t have a huge selection…though I wasn’t expecting them to.  I ended up purchasing two bottles: a California Chardonnay (because I was in the mood for a buttery Chardonnay) and a 2005 Bordeaux (both of which were opened last night, although the Bordeaux was not finished) and then went back to his place. 

All in all, I was gone for about an hour, and unless I had walked in the door with a big shopping bag (other than the wine), I totally could have ended up purchasing those gloves and gotten away with it (I have been banned from shopping… 😦 ).  My thoughts of Brooklyn have yet to be changed.  I don’t think I’ll ever get over my preference of a suburbanish feel over a city feel, but there are a lot of things to do in walking distance (there’s a yoga place a few blocks away that I’m going to check out), and, most importantly, my boyfriend is there.  Brooklyn at least gets points for that! 🙂

Although we officially still have nine days left of summer, it feels like autumn is settling in.  The days are cool, the mornings are cold, and the other day, I saw someone wearing knee-high boots.  Okay, I definitely have had the urge to slip my feet into them myself, but I have resisted (I have started looking for new Uggs online, however, shhhhh, don’t tell my uncle)!  After all, you can get the same effect by choosing pants over a skirt or dress…and it is nice to be able to wear pants again.  Although I am a dress girl, my legs do love the occasional pant draped over them.  It’s a cozy feeling, especially after a brutally hot summer, but I have to admit, it does take some getting used to. 

With the change of seasons, comes the change in wardrobe…almost there!  Over the past month, I have been combing my favorite clothing site in search of new pieces to add to my wardrobe; not a lot of things, but a few basics that I felt I was lacking or needed fresh.  I recently went through my wardrobe and found many pieces (and…..gasp….shoes) to which I either didn’t want anymore, or felt I could part with, to donate to charity.  Of course this gave me an excuse to shop, though, do I really need one?  All joking aside, I am very proud of myself for the amount of clothes and shoes that I am purging myself of.

On another note, I have once again become a victim to my shoes…new shoes to be exact.  I bought these burnt-orange flats from Michael Kors a few weeks ago; the name of the color actually befits the season: Autumn.  I was dying to wear these shoes, so, on Friday, I decided that it would happen.  Of course, I neglected to think about how much extra walking I would be doing, seeing as how I had plans to meet up with my aunt after work and take a wine/food pairing class (tickets that we bought months ago), with a little bit of shopping and a lot of walking before and after.  My feet already hurt just from my morning commute, but I trudged onward, buying the heel gel sticky pads that I use because new shoes tend to cut up the back of my heel…although it was too late: the damage had already been done.  I spent the weekend in pain, and only finally took off the band-aids last night.  One of these days I will learn to take some preventative measures so that that does not occur, but clearly it was not last Friday.  As a result, when the weather is sooo deliciously autumn-like, I surrendered my shoes to my boyfriend on Sunday evening, banning myself from them for the week so that my poor feet could heal; he has yet to realize the sometimes sick relationship I have with my shoes, sick of course meaning that I wear them through the pain, but, what woman doesn’t, might I ask?!  Two more days, and my shoes and I will meet again!

Try as I may, I have not been able to shake the melancholy feeling of wishing that the summer was over.  I know: blasphemy!  But, as much as I love the summer: laying out in the sun, the feel of sand between my toes, the healthy sun-kissed glow of my skin, the seemingly endless amount of daylight (notice a pattern here? lol), I can’t help but feel excitement in anticipation of what is right around the corner: autumn.  I think autumn may in fact be my favorite season, actually, it definitely is.  There’s nothing like the slight chill in the air that it brings (slight chill, not the frigidity of winter), or the feeling of leaves crunching beneath your feet.  To this day I will still occasionally stomp on leaves, sort of the same way that I’ll still try to make pigeons fly away by different means (running, stomping, swinging something at them, etc), although sadly, they have become immune to such tactics.  When I was a child, we would spend hours in the forest picking up fallen pinecones, which we would then go home and decorate the house with (after we decorated the pinecones of course, with glitter and sometimes colored glues).  I’m not sure which was more fun, the picking or the decorating…they were both a lot of fun.

The start of autumn also brings the different farm activities.  I, personally, love apple picking (I also love apples).  I remember the first time I did it, I was young, so I had no idea how many different kinds of apples there actually were, and that you could taste all of them at the orchard while picking and choosing.  And of course, pumpkin picking, because, who does not smile when that thought pops into their minds.  The thought always makes me smile and remember the fragrance of roasting the pumpkin seeds in the oven after carving (ok, attempting to carve) a jack-o’-lantern; the end result of hunting for the perfectly shaped pumpkin and hayrides, which always seem like more fun than they actually are. 

I am already dreaming about the different shades of browns, oranges, and other earthy tones that will once again be fashionable to wear, the feel of pants on legs that have been bare since the start of the first heat wave.  I cannot wait to wear jeans and boots again (don’t forget sweaters!), and to have hair that does not ruin upon the very hint of humidity.  I also cannot wait until my office is heated rather than air conditioned, because it might as well be winter in my building.