Hi! My name is Meghan Sara - Meghan with an "H", Sara without. I hate cantaloupe, clean when I'm stressed and can't talk on the phone without pacing. I'm a feminist, atheist, humanist, sentimentalist, geek. And my clothes rarely match.
New York City is my home, and my dream come true! I moved to the Big Apple in September 2008, because I watched West Side Story at my dad's behest back in 1997. 1997! Because once you live in a building with a fire escape, your life becomes a romantic musical drama? And it kind of has. Be careful what you wish for...
I also give ghost tours in Greenwich Village for Ghosts, Murders, and Mayhem Walking Tours.
This is one of my favourite pictures right now. I saw him on the L train platform heading into Brooklyn after nine hours in various cars/buses/subways coming home from Spring Break. I like to think he existed for me and only me. I started pretending to talk to him in a high, squeaky voice and then decided his excitement over riding the L train needed a techno beat. "Brooklyn! Alllllllriiiiiight!"
Ah, Pi Day Weekend. I declared it "Brooklyn weekend" and refused to do a lick of work. I was going to relax! Dammit! I was going to get my groove back! After a late, lovely brunch with my boyfriend, we headed down to Williamsburg in search of gluten-free pie and found...this steam. "Take a gram!" he urged. "People lose their shit over steam!" I handed him my camera and laughing joked, "You're next." "No way," was his retort, "it probably smells!" "It doesn't smell THAT bad," I cajoled him. Then, taking a whiff, I had to admit, "It actually does smell pretty bad." I began laughing, and the rest is history.
After buying squid jerky and Hi-Chew at Sunrise Mart, we decided to get a drink. Do we want the classy secret bar, or the cool secret bar? Cool won over classy, and we headed to Decibel. Ominous taiko drumming greeted us at the door as we showed our IDs to the bouncer, a cute girl in her early 20's with a flashlight to see in the dark. She moved the rope - a literal rope - and we stepped into the back, an empty bar COVERED - ceiling to floor - in layers on layers of scribbled graffiti. Big red lamps glowed at the bar and they dished up music ranging from Portishead to J. Geils Band alongside our raw octopus and smoked stingray fin (with spicy aioli!). Everything was on point, from the scene to the sake, and I couldn't resist sneaking a little selfie among the graffiti to capture the moment.