“Pembadgula!”
While I was eating lunch in the cafeteria of the Condé Nast (a Wash U grad, I think…) building with my cousin (who works for Vanity Fair), I noticed that, on his tray was what looked to be a muffin top. “Is that a muffin top?” I exclaimed. “No,” he replied, “…it’s actually a black and white cookie.” Even better. My first black and white. It’s not black or white…it’s black AND white.
His wife and I traveled about 40 blocks by foot, passing along the way the most amazing structures. Chelsea Market, Hell’s Kitchen and some Midtown goodies.
Today I walked around Brooklyn: Carroll Gardens, Fort Greene, downtown. I stopped in at a coffee shop, a bar, a Mexican soda fountain (strange, no?), a gelato café, a couple grocery markets where I purchased fun drinks in little bottles–a product for which I have a softspot. Sitting in a park with a Boylan’s bottle of carbonated water while watching little children (I’m not creepy, really) play with their nannies could not suit me better. Walking semi-blindly onto a subway line in the hopes that I’ll get off somewhere half-decent (not hard in NYC) is right up my alley (a safe one, of course). Getting heckled, while it’s terribly annoying and violating (one choice male used: “Hey honey, can I get a hamburger with that shake?”), somehow feels a bit more intelligent in New York.
I’m very pleased to be here. It’s just what I needed.
I’m moving here. Sorry, mom, dad. Sorry.
