my week
jazz bars, dates, decorating, and snow
I started my week by going to my favorite jazz bar on 53rd Street with a close friend, Audrey. It’s one of those places that feels special and sacred — somewhere you only go when you want to treat yourself, and when you want to share something beloved with someone you love. It’s underground, dim and intimate, with live jazz playing all evening and a little toy train that circles the ceiling, endlessly making its rounds.
I always order the same things: a lychee martini, chicken wings, and okonomiyaki. Ritual feels important there. This time, though, I tried something new — fried brie with honey mustard, Audrey’s suggestion. Warm, indulgent, perfect.
It felt like the right way to begin a week: music humming through the floor, familiar orders, new tastes, and the comfort of being known — by a place, by a friend, by myself.
tomi jazz, nyc
It’s the holiday season. I don’t normally care for holidays, but ever since falling in love, everything has softened. My roommates wanted to decorate the apartment together, and Astrid brought home a tree. We made hot cocoa and ordered Chinese food from the spot down the street — the one where the owner loves Madeline. I love the idea of being a regular somewhere, of being remembered without trying.
We decorated the tree with colorful lights. Growing up, I never had colorful tree lights, so this felt especially sweet — like giving my younger self something small she didn’t know she was missing.
cute mugs are essential
perfect trees for perfect girls
Drew and I went on a date to our favorite Indian spot, the one covered in Christmas lights and BYOB. Somehow, every time we go, we’re the only people there at first. Empty restaurants always make me a little sad — I start worrying about them, hoping they’re doing okay. I always hope more people come in, and they always do. About thirty minutes later, it’s suddenly full and loud and warm, and I feel relieved.
It started snowing later that night. We grabbed groceries and headed home. By the time we went to sleep, the city had been covered in snow, like a soft layer of bubble wrap. Waking up to it felt really sweet. Everything looked smaller, quieter, and kind of precious, like the world had been tucked in overnight
the view from my bedroom in the morning, i get to quietly watch the seasons change through these two windows