I've been wanting to visit Coney Island since before I moved to New York. I've never been particularly enamored of theme parks (the Minnesota State Fair Midway being a notable and obvious exception), but something about devouring cotton candy on the boardwalk while watching aged but luminous carnival rides light up the night sky has always held a certain mystique for me. This past week, nearly nine months after arriving in NYC, I finally went. Unfortunately, end-of-semester insanity didn't allow me to spend much time immersed in the bright lights, but I was there long enough to confirm that I'm getting old: The legendary Cyclone made my neck hurt like no roller coaster ever has. In any case, my Coney Island dream was fulfilled, cotton candy and all. Maybe I'll even make it back for the Mermaid Parade next month.
The woman who saved my artichoke
4 weeks ago