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“It’s kind of like any vacation, or study abroad,” I offered.“No one will really get it or care.” Later, I recognized the absurdity: that we, women united by a commitment to exploring our surroundings for the sake of love and zero American (or Canadian) cash, wouldn’t seek to etch meaning from this experience—one that, we all agreed, was among the more extraordinary we’ve had. In a sense, it was the same question we’d been asking ourselves all week: both on our own, as we spent time secluded in various cabins and cozy outdoor spots—each crammed with some of the island’s collection of 15,000 books—and as we convened for an hour or more each day to talk about craft (the poetry of Rae Armantrout, revision strategies, the role of shame in form—conversations that often bled into shared dinners, evening swims, canoe trips around Rainy Lake): * Most mornings I situated myself (along with my notebook, books and coffee) in a sunny Adirondack chair at the eastern edge of the island.

You know dating someone who lives off the G train is the equivalent to dating someone in Siberia. A few highlights: Roberta's, Nitehawk Cinema and the Levee, if it were still open, but since it's not, he'll bring you to Lovin' Cup where he'll tell you about how he saw Local Natives at Glasslands the night before he realized Bushwick is now Williamsburg and he's probably moving to Bed-Stuy next week. You can accurately predict exactly how a date with the cute boy in Warby Parker specs in the graphic design department will go down. If he tells you to meet him at Brother Jimmy's or Mc Fadden's, he's under 25 And if he isn't, well then he needs to put the fishbowl down, turn down the Eddie Money and re-evaluate his life. ” It was the last night of a retreat with ten women poets on a (tiny) island in (very) northern Minnesota, and one of our two caretakers—volunteers for this foundation, which hosts small groups of artists for one week at a time during summer—had taken us out for a “pleasure cruise” on the pontoon. I sat across from one of the more established poets–a woman with close-cropped gray hair and an aura of fierceness, wisdom and warmth; her question seemed part rhetorical, part not. “We’ll hold it close.” “I’ll just say, ,” another said, flashing a sly smile.On Monday morning, the first one we woke on the island, I felt like the lake’s glassy surface was staring me down, challenging me: There were probably a few obstacles that halted me from being able to genuinely, immediately relax into the experience of being there—disconnected from phone and email, in a small space with women I hardly knew.

But among the particular anxieties I recognized was simply this: the anticipation of leaving.* In many ways, I’ve enjoyed tremendous privileges and good fortune in the last two years: I’ve been physically healthy, made strong connections, done meaningful work.The tell-tale signs you've been dating (and dating) in the city that never sleeps. Trying to find a guy to settle down while he's in his late 20s or early 30s is a feat like nothing else. Let's be honest: he's not picking up the tab, and you know this from years of counting down to the very penny to see who owes what. You have nothing in common with your date—until you have the late-night pizza talk and find out you have similar tastes. If you're going to date someone, you want to be realistic about how transportation will come into play. We live by our own rules here in NYC, and when it comes to love and relationships, we're definitely in a completely different sphere as to how we date. When you meet someone in NYC, subway talk will eventually come up. You know if it goes bad, you're not going to want to wait around for the A train late-night when there's wine and chocolate in your apartment to be consumed at maximum speed. It also doesn't help all the single ladies that they outnumber single fellas by 150,000. Any guy who says this when trying to decide on a place for a date didn't get the memo that Murray Hill and LES are practically one in the same these days. You're not drunk and in denial over your singlehood, you're just really happy to be on this date! However, the one train that turns everyone off from potential love is the G. I need to find someone a little closer to the J for me to open my heart." Photobucket 5. Does anyone know anyone (besides your coworker's cousin) who's actually been to Per Se? Now do you see why it took the gals of At some point, after years of face-palming it, these signs may have crossed your brain or heart. You're over "I never go above 14th Street." C'mon, dude! Go ahead and say you're not going above 14th Street again. It's an unreliable ghost train that leads to a Ghost Town (OK, Greenpoint is pretty sweet, but still …