NYC: Big Rats and Even Bigger Pizza

I'm a true desk jockey: a willing corporate drone. I find comfort in the simple satisfactions that punctuate the monotony of adulthood -- like the feeling when you find a new pen, cook your instant noodles al dente, or create the perfect pivot table. So when I say that I needed a trip to remind me of the pleasures that exist beyond my cubicle, I really mean it.

To cap off 2017, I jetted off to experience the two things that make me happiest in the world: food and music, and I did so in the greatest city in the world with my sister. I felt most comfortable travelling with her because she has seen me at my worst (i.e. pouty/hungry/passive aggressive/lazy) and at my best (i.e. smiley/bloated/passive aggressive/lazy).

What struck me most about New York was the sheer diversity of quality food options. We would hit up an amazing handmade noodle and dumpling joint, and then eat incredible pizza and ice cream soon thereafter. We were perpetually full, gluttonous in our pursuit of all things tasty. New York was our wonderland of tasty delights, holding enough calorie-ridden bites of pleasure to drown out the frenetic ambiance consisting of people, cars, and rats.

If this alone did not make a great trip, then what capped off our time in New York was surely enough to everything worth it. We saw her in concert -- twice. The artist who I constantly go back to and who single-handedly reignited my interest in music. The artist who is at once a guitar god and a singular voice in the music industry. If you don't already know who I'm referring to you probably haven't spoken to me in the past three and a half years. I'm talking about St. Vincent.

Plain and simple, seeing St. Vincent twice at Brooklyn's hauntingly beautiful King's Theatre was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Concerts are difficult for me sometimes because I cannot just let go and enjoy myself -- I'm constantly uncomfy. But this show, with its combination of music, theatricality, and my own intense fandom, was enough to transcend the tiny grievances that usually consume my thoughts. I wasn't worrying about the body odour of the person beside me or how I should have eaten two more beef patties. I was just happy.