Stereotypical Variety & a Model-Esque Sea

Escape from the Suburbs, indeed.

A bantering mob of every possible stereotype, ugly and pretty, stylish and sophisticated, on and under the radar. A true melting pot of personal appearance, variety is the only key term. You certainly have more than five models to choose from.
Fabrics and colors, patterns and palettes, brunette, blonde, and all colors of the rainbow. Anything can be found here, and everything will be found here. How you portray yourself is more than just your appearance, but rather, a work of art, an attempt to be a "Betty" in a sea of "Veronica's." (Yes, the metaphor was meant to be flipped around) Nadja wouldn't have been confused. Her aimless spirit, multiple personalities, advancing appearance, and sensual feeling of mystery puts her at the top of the totem pole. She adds to the complete definition of variety. Brains are notable, and looks are reliable. You think you know just one type of girl? Think again. They come in all shapes and sizes, and I'm not just referring to their stilettos. Give these girls more than a little credit. They establish a sense of creativity in a sea of artists, independence in a sea of businessmen, and happiness in a sea of negativity and selfless doubt. There is nothing quite like a New Yorker, and more particularly, a New York woman.
So hit me with your best shot. I'm sure we'll be able to find exactly what you're looking for.

Photo Credit: ny.racked.com

A Diamond in the Rough

In another place, it seems as though I have transcended time. I look out, and while I have been changed by places before, I have come across another place unlike any other. The variables of emotion, memory, and cognitive process continue to willow up the thoughts in my brain as I approach, what else, but a billowing willow tree. In fact, she quite reminds me of Grandmother Willow.
I have been tired many a days, plowing through the seemingly thin concrete jungle, not quite understanding the metaphor. Doesn't a jungle have plush greenery with overwhelming species of wildlife?                                       
I think back to that week on Lover's Lane, and I    can only describe my feelings as a longing for nature, that miniature feeling of desperado. After being tired for so long in this place, I needed to be awakened again. This time, the street sign read "Central Park West." I looked right, and found myself buried in trees of all kinds and colors, leaves enough to rake larger piles than my old ones at Grandma's in Northern Michigan. Runners clothed in spandex and earmuffs trekked down the cleared paths beneath the foilage, and dogs, large and small, struggle to be retained on their respective leashes. Bridges of antique stone, a random baseball field, some basketball and volleyball courts. Hunter green grass goes on for miles, interspersed with statues, vendors, zoo animals, and trickling fountains. Ponds as crystal clear as looking glass, taking me back to that lake house that I once was so fond of. Those variables previously mentioned are all heightened now, and I feel awake once more. The magic has come to life again.
http://thelakehouseoffloverslane.blogspot.com/