So, like, right, I totally heard before I, like, totally left that, like, Americans are totally patriotic, right? Ok. So having spoken to, like, a couple of New Yorkers I hadn't really got the God Bless America punch in the face. Right?

Thus I mentally noted, in my morally-superior-cafe-latte-drinking-
university-educated-Australian-stereotype-denying way that in fact Americans,
or at least New yorkers, may not have been as
gun-to-your-throat-freedom-crying patriots as I had once conjectured.

Then one day, as I gazed wistfully, as only a young woman who wears flowers in her hair and douses herself in perfumed oils to immitate the feeling of love and romance whilst dreaming of life and sunshine beyond the present, such as myself, has a tendency to do, I noticed for the first time two star spangled banners whiping in the chilled like vodka wind of the New York fall morning.

The presupposed blueprint for the day was an adventure to Brooklyn to eat a pie and sauce, drink a real coffee, see a friend at her cafe and then to see an Ibsen play performed entirely in Norwegian.

In order to make the day a complete experience I thought I would create an activity in which to indulge so that the journey as well as the destination was full of culture and dimension.

And so was born:
Flags of The Neighbourhood

"Oh, where are the flags in your neighborhood?In your neighborhood?In your neighborhood?
Say, where are the flags in your neighborhood?The flags that you see each day."

The games began with a bang and a boom as 2 blocks from my dreamy abode...

Flag No.1
















Then 5 steps away...

Flag No.2









and with that I burned a hole through the ground and hurtled my way on a charging subway train, Brooklyn Bound - when really I should have just rode my bike and parked it outside an Italian Restaurant:

Flag No.3
















Me: Excuse me. Which way is Ataliantic Ave?

Passerby: Just turn left at the flag.

Flag No.4
















Brooklyn is in big bloom as a bustling borough for the arts thus:

Flag No.5









Patriotism is hiding everywhere:

Flag No.6
















This is a Marine Terminal - not as in "Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns" -Jack-Nicholson-in-A-Few-Good-Men kinda way. It is a place where boats dock and deliver things to the people of Brooklyn:

Flag No.7
















Flag No.8










Flag No.9









Please note I have only wlaked about 6 blocks at this point.

Flag No.10
















I was now running late for my Norwegian play, but this photo-taking-flaggy thing was taking over my soul...to point.

Flag No.11









Symbolic?:

Flag No.12
















I mean seriously! This was getting out of hand!

Flag No.13










And for the grand finale:

Flag No.14-19 aka: At Peace with Resistance.
















After 20 flags in less blocks and 3 hours I was beat and beaten -New Yorkers: Your retardedly over zealous patriotism is, well, its noted by this morally-superior-cafe-latte-drinking-university-educated-Australian-stereotype-denying-floral gurl.










God Bless America.

Previously on Love Won't Play Any Games With You Anymore (LWPGWYA?):

So, I had taken an oh so tranquil New York walk in...
















and found...





















DISCO ROLLER SKATING!

And this is where our realities shall intersect as the trajectory of the narrative resumes from whense it ended or...

One Saturday in Manhatten (continued):

After the discovery of disco roller skating in the middle of Central Park, I placed my faith in the city with the hope that it would unveil a myriad of adventures and intriguing sights if only I defied the subway and its exorbitant $2USD per ride compulsory ransom which includes a short but very much enclosed and confined journey with psychopaths.

In other words I desided to walk home.

I walked down Madison Ave, on the look out for Rockerfella center which I completely missed, depsite the fact it takes up about three blocks, but found instead a store whose sign read: 'Bargins For the Millionaire'...

...

?

NY didn't quite feel like home anymore...who actually shops there?

Then I passed...

















a church...

















that I thought looked cool and tourists seemed to be taking photos so I thought I'd join in the touristy fun...despite the fact I have no idea which or what church this actually is ("Its all about aesthetic and fuck all to do with morality"

And then merandering down the streets paved with Tiffany and Co and remanants of romantic 60s movies washing the streets I stumbled upon...


























...the blather of consumerism alive and pulsating into the setting sun. And I realised quite quickly that Times Square looks way more impressive in photos when their taken at night.

The lovely afternoon adventurous stroll intended to discover the intricacies of the New York city scape had soon enough evoporated into a blobby mass of coldness and hunger and a desperate need to pee. So I went east to 42nd street and popped into...


























...no, not a museum...


























...no, not a conservatory for music, but...















Grand Central Station.















It's not exactly Flinders St but its not bad, ey?

And with my face pressed firmly into some strangers chest plate and someone elses hand in place that may have changed my religion I caught the crammed and busy subway home to lil' ol' 23rd street to enjoy the view from my apartment...















Yes, the small sliver of light at the top center of the photo is the empire state building...



























This is from the other window...

So! How's Melbourne?