The Great NYC Escape: A Girls’ Weekend, A Birthday, and the Reset I Desperately Needed
So, after our last “vacation” to NYC—the one where we tried to show the kids the magic of the holidays in the Big Apple and instead got a soundtrack of whining about too much walking, being bored (in New York City?!), and the occasional existential crisis over a street hot dog—it became abundantly clear: I needed a real vacation. One that didn’t involve packing snacks for small humans or navigating meltdowns over who got to press the elevator button.
Enter: Girls’ Weekend in NYC. Also known as Shannon’s Birthday Extravaganza & My Sanity Reboot.
The Arrival: Thrifting Like It’s an Olympic Sport
We ditched the car, dumped the bags at the hotel, and immediately hit the streets, fueled by caffeine and the promise of secondhand gold. The first store I walked into? Boom. Sneakers I’d been eyeing on Poshmark for months. The kind Shannon was planning to get me on her upcoming business trip to Japan. Clearly, the thrifting gods had smiled upon us, and that set the tone for the entire trip.
We spent the day hopping from one vintage shop to the next, sifting through racks of clothing and shoes like we were on a treasure hunt. And let me tell you, we scored. Designer pieces at a steal. Sneakers that screamed main character energy (because, if I haven’t mentioned it before, I have a slight sneaker addiction—okay, maybe not so slight). And unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—I’ve passed this addiction on to Shannon. She’s now fully hooked on my favorite sneaker brand and spends an alarming amount of time scrolling through Poshmark, hunting for her next great find. My influence is strong, and so is our shared inability to resist a good sneaker deal.
The Night: Steak, Broadway, and Shannon’s Unexpected Education
For dinner, we went big—steakhouse by Times Square, the kind where they cook the steak so perfectly you momentarily forget that food costs actual money. Then, it was showtime: The Book of Mormon.
Now, let’s pause here to appreciate that Shannon had zero clue what this show was about. She saw the word Mormon and assumed it was a nice, wholesome play about faith and community. I had to break it to her: It’s from the creators of South Park. This was not going to be a spiritual awakening—it was going to be two hours of hilariously inappropriate humor.
By intermission, she was crying-laughing and whisper-screaming, “OMG, I HAD NO IDEA!!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?!” Because, my dear Shannon, this reaction was worth it.
The Next Day: More Vintage, Art Finds, and Real Talk
Day two took us to the Village, where we continued our thrift bender, finding gems that made up for our zero success rate on our last trip. We also stumbled upon an up-and-coming artist’s pop-up, which resulted in us both snagging some original artwork on t-shirts—because what’s a trip without an impulsive but meaningful purchase? (check out his art https://pjorourkeii.com - photo of our shirts is at bottom in gallery)
But more than anything, we got what we truly came for: time.
Time to talk about everything—life, love, work, the weird way adulthood sometimes makes you feel like you’re both killing it and totally failing at the same time. Time to give and get advice, vent, and just be.
Because as much as I love my people, sometimes you need a weekend where no one is asking you what’s for dinner or why the WiFi is slow. A weekend where your only responsibility is deciding between brunch cocktails.
The Return: Recharged and Ready
When I walked through the door, I was immediately tackled by Snoozanne, who lost her entire mind in a zoomies rampage. Then came Millie’s shriek of “Staceyyyyy! I missed you!”—music to my ears. Kisses from Rick, more “I missed you” declarations, and a moment of hesitation before looking around the house, silently praying it wasn’t a disaster. Because on the drive home, I may (or may not) have dramatically declared, “If the dishes aren’t done when I get back, I’m throwing them away!” Was it an empty threat? Maybe. Was I fully prepared to follow through? Also maybe. But to my absolute delight (and relief), the house was perfect. No dishes in the sink, no chaos—just the warm welcome home I needed. Bonus: Rick was cooking a delicious dinner!
And you know what? It was perfect.
This trip? Exactly what I needed. And if you’re reading this thinking, Damn, I need a reset too—this is your sign. Plan it. Do it. The people who love you will be there when you get back (hopefully with a clean house).
Now, tell me: What’s your best besties or solo trip (or I need a break trip) story? Or, alternatively, what’s the worst thrift store find you’ve ever convinced yourself you had to have? Let’s swap stories in the comments.
