I'm doing that thing where I'm asking myself, this time last week, where was I? I do miss New York. Well, I add three hours ahead, and... Usually, the answer involves inebriation and a dark bar. I know how to have a good time.
This particular moment captures our early evening visit to the top of Janet's building. She lives in some serious digs. I mean, her monthly mortgage is six times my monthly rent. In the words of my co-worker, "Do the math!" I appraise all geography in New York in terms of its relativity to Marc Jacobs, and Janet's is therefore prime real estate not only for New York in general, but also for my shoddy values.
Anyway, I couldn't ever stop singing this girl's praises. Every time we get together we talk about how when we first met, we didn't like each other. We instantly identified that we were too alike. But when you genuinely have things in common, you can't dislike each other for too long. For us, it maybe lasted ten minutes.I was really pleased with how much more approachable New York dudes are compared to LA ones. Jan's friend Kate pointed out that -- sweeping generalization to come -- NYC men wax on about power and money, whereas LA men schmooze about their looks and their connections. In the end, it's all so silly. And so, San Diego wins.
I had a horrific time getting home, which involved a Saudi Arabian pilot badgering me about whether I intended to marry an American man; attaching myself to an Austrian couple from Manhattan to JFK because I had no idea where I was going; playing interactive trivia with other passengers on the plane, WINNING (twice), and receiving a can of Pringles as my spoils; having to endure the torturously dumb conversations of passengers around me for nine hours, one of them being Joss Stone's manager; and in a fit of desperation, watching "Must Love Dogs" to combat my stir-crazy boredom. We all cope in different ways.
But you know what they say. I Heart NY.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 9:06 PM
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