St. Thomas, New York, Connecticut…oh my!

A little rundown on what our lives as nomads has entailed. It is almost weird to be home in a normal bed and go to a grocery store to buy food to make dinner rather than find a restaurant to make us something. I feel a bit overwhelmed because our apartment is a pit hole, I’ve got work to do, laundry to clean, photos to edit, albums to design, I am hungover from drinking water (yes water) at the wedding yesterday, tired and cranky…and lo and behold we are off to France tomorrow. All I really really want to do at the moment is clean out my closet. I have been craving a closet cleaning for ages now. Ho hum. But life is good.

Here is the general run down on how the past nomadic trips have gone:

Our flight to St. Thomas was to leave SFO at 6:00am on Wednesday morn. Since BART didn’t run that early we decided to get a room at the SFO airport for the night. Unfortunately, the hotels.com reservation was a fluke because the hotel didn’t actually have space so we ended up sleeping on the airport floor. I’ve slept in a train station before after drinking beers at Oktoberfest, but never an airport floor. Actually, I don’t think you’d call it sleep…more like half sleep and shiver from the cold for 4 hours. Painful.

St. Thomas was awesome. If you ever want to take a trip to the Virgin Islands where you don’t want to deal with exchange rates and don’t mind driving on the other side of the road St. Thomas in July is the place to go. The water there is incrrrrredble. Ashley’s wedding was fantastic and she looked beautiful (see previous post). The day after the wedding Cooper and I were so excited to have a day to ourselves for actual vacation but unfortunately, when we set out for brunch I had 2938752938579287 people honk at me because of my driving (I was the name on the rental) and I got a few “no, no, no” fingers from people. Not only that but the locks on our rental didn’t work so Cooper had to climb in through the trunk on more than one occasion to get a front door open:

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Needless to say we enjoyed the water on our day off for as long as we could (i.e. only about an hour) until the sun went down and we didn’t leave our hotel for food ever again. Here is what we look like eating a picnic on the balcony of our hotel:

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Next came NYC. Cooper is this really great brother who invited his little bro on a trip to the big apple. So, Assi and the Carras brothers took the city by storm (semi-storm since it was so hot). We walked the city and witnessed a guy catch a pigeon with a fishing pole then put the dead bird in his man bag as though it was a common thing to do. Is this normal? A first for me for sure. We ate Pink Berry like it was the only food on the planet:

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we went to B&H (camera store) for hours; went to Brooklyn where I bought an awesome wooden postcard; ate Swedish meatballs; attempted to get my haircut on a whim but I had communication issues with the guy who was to cut my hair (to the point that I was sweating on my neck and he kept touching my sweaty hair) that I left the salon without a cut…and with sweaty hair; attempted to go to the David Letterman show by myself (Cooper had to do an engagement shoot and Ross wasn’t interested in “the David”) and was 2 people away from getting in when they ran out of seats…story of my life; treated myself to a Bumble and Bumble haircut at their original salon which was fun but now I realize the guy gave me the same haircut everyone always gives me even though I told him over and over “no mom cuts” and “have fun with it…do something edgy”…now my hair is just three inches shorter and without style; went to the Good Morning America taping in Bryant Park and watched a free Feist (yippee!!!) concert…my mom said she saw me four times in the crowds that morning aka my 0.237383 seconds of fame.

Then Cooper’s bro was to leave NYC while Cooper and I made a jaunt to Connecticut for another wedding. A photo of three of us prior to the split:

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While on the way to Connecticut we saw a truck on fire and a school bus accident with tons of kids on stretchers (to which we had a moment of silence). Aye carumba. We made it to the very American towns in Connecticut safe and sound. Thank the lord. Now we are back home just in time to leave again. Sweet begeezers.

Author: Ali Carras

At a very young age I lost site of my mom in a local grocery store in Boulder, Colorado. I did, however, have the smarts to go to the customer service counter. The kind woman at the counter asked "What is your name little girl?" My reply: "Assi." The woman gave me a look like, "Are you playing with me you little devil?" but she proceeded to blast on the loudspeaker the "We have a lost Assi at the front of the store." Customers throughout the store gagged and giggled, but my mom knew exactly who the woman was referring to: the mullet haired little girl with a tongue too big for her mouth, wearing a leotard, skirt, tights, and jelly shoes (with florescent green laces in them...even though they didn't need the laces). A shy little character for whom every little detail in life was a huge thing. I am pleased to report that today I am able to fully pronounce Allison (aka Ali), but the Assi pseudonym has always stuck, evolving into Aszi. As for the shy little character for whom every little detail in life was a huge thing? Some things never change. I have closed my comments due to mass amounts of spam that no filter could ever control. Feel free to contact me abeckord [at] gmail.com!

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