Katerina Elizabeth

I love celebrations: birthdays, anniversaries, new jobs, holidays, or even a random Saturday in November.  There is so much negative energy in the world, that celebrations are a way to add positivity and to acknowledge the good in the people around you.  My boyfriend and I celebrate every monthly anniversary.  We figure that since we both enjoy going out regardless, why not make a point of focusing on each new month together?

Our monthly anniversaries are sort of monthly little business meetings—we check in with the other to see what we’re doing right & wrong and how we can improve.  I’m completely against holding grudges or any form of negative energy, so it’s important to look back in order to move forward.  We always handle issues as soon as they arise, but our monthly check-in allows us to air all of the good, the bad, and the ugly while also celebrating how we’ve been happily together another month.

We toast to everything—a sunny morning, a successful work week, how big our feelings are for each other, and even to ordering arancini.  I see no reason not to celebrate any and all occasions.  This last month, my boyfriend and I went to the Dante restaurant in Greenwich Village.  We snagged the corner booth, the obviously best and most private seat in any restaurant.  It was romantic, albeit loud, but no one seemed to pay any attention to any other person.  Except for us, of course.  We watched her drunkenly spill wine onto her date’s lap, and we noticed how the friendly table of four barely looked up from each of their phones.

I am a lover of share-fare, or splitsies/picks as I like to call them.  I prefer variety and approach much of life with a ‘more is more’ attitude.  Overpacking shoes, serving a feast for ten for only two, candles, books, & pictures lining the perimeters of my room.  The tables are small and it’s difficult for the waitress to maneuver the different plates, but we make sure there is also room for drinks.  Luckily, my boyfriend switches with me after I mistakenly order something I would like to never taste again.

We then go bar hopping and Village is a place where it seems like everything is happening or is about to happen.  It’s a place of comfort, and of newness and antiquity.  Some spots have old school rock as background for Jack on the rocks  and some spots have low-key jazz with champagne cocktails to match.

My feet are hurting, but it’s okay—the heavy bass and Robert Plant’s voice is fueling my adrenaline…or is that the gin?  Either way, i’m dancing and i’m with my best friend.  The night ends in the early morning and the sun rising brings about another new month together.