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| View from Starbucks, Newport, Jersey City, NJ |
With the sun shining in the UK this morning, already proving it to be a superb day, I couldn't help but be reminded of Lana Del Rey's atmospheric tune, Radio. This song is synonymous, for me, with sunny mornings waking up in Newport, Jersey City. Sun streaming through mine and my cool chick Molo's, window. The water from the Hudson is reflected in the windows in the building opposite, she's sat on my laptop because she still hasn't bought her Mac yet, her ipod blaring the tune whilst I'm forced to go in the bathroom first because that's just how it always is. A cloud of pink sheets befall both our beds and brightens a pretty sad and tired room. Throwing on my Victoria's Secret black and white tank top with PINK emblazoned on the front and my Hoboken map ring, Molo dresses herself in that peach pleated skirt and 80's earrings, long small bag draping by her side juxtaposing my huge suitcase of a bag draping by mine. We make our way out of our building, down the street, the humidity already clasping at our throats. We enter the icy conditions of the Starbucks by the harbour and with iced caramel macchiato's in hand we're set outside on those metal table and chairs, glancing across at the Financial District, Freedom Tower gradually growing. Adorned in our ray ban-esque black shades we're now joined by Ang, then Marina (she's always late) chatting animatedly as we are greeted and left by numerous others that we know, stopping by for their caffeine fix or on their way to the PATH.
And then we're on the L train, disembarking at Bedford Ave, queuing to move through those two cage-like gate contraptions. And we're single file up the stairs, back out into that glorious sun, hovering by the flower stall next to Bedford Ave station, eyes set on our destination, the Williamsburg Flea.
