Thanksgiving after Three Dance Midterms

Someone (normal) to come home to.
My memories of NYC:
The walk past Macdonald's, Pete's Diner, that breakfast place, Casa Romana and the produce market, up the stairs to the 40th and Bowery stop of the 7 train. The sound of that train on warm nights with the window open.
The subway musicians: flute, sax, beat box, violin, mariachi,  keyboard and jazz singer and those who could use a bit more practice before sharing their noise in a hot crowded subway.
The dramatic clouds and watching a rainy city slosh past from indoors.
The serenity of the conservatory garden in Central Park, growing beneath the watchful eye of the gray garden cat.
The elusive dipped soft-serve trucks and the ubiquitous silver hotdog and grill carts with bright umbrellas and soft pretzels.