No Sleep Till Brooklyn

I have arrived safely home from my whirlwind trip to New York. Upon being picked up from the airport I'm sure Liz immediately wanted to check me into some kind of rehab or sleep institute as I could not have possibly look more cracked out. In the 3 days I was there I slept a total of maybe, high end estimate, 8 hours. This is why upon arriving in Los Angeles I only had the ability to point at things and grunt.



The trip there started well. Red eye through a lightening storm. Yeah. We basically flew upside down which meant that the scared british girl next to me and I hugged, made out our wills and popped Xanax like Tic Tacs. Luckily we landed safely. After a brief 3 hour nap my friend and I went out for brunch, which lead to multiple mimosas which led to another friend, Adam and I, hosting a photo shoot in Central Park. First of all, I fucking love Central Park and second of all, I love New Yorkers as they didn't blink twice at the two kids running and leaping in the air while the other took photos of it and giggled. The day wore on and it did not end until almost 7AM in Brooklyn. This was the classiest moment of the trip as I drunk, stood over Sera's passed out body ( who had doubted my ability to hang) while shouting 'Who's the punk now?!' and holding a beer. It was a moment I'm sure my mom will be very proud of.



Another brief nap and I met up with my friend Ila. We had met with vague plans of 'let's eat something and walk'. We in fact did eat something and started to head to the Upper West Side with the idea of just wandering around and possibly pressing our faces against the cheese case at Zabar's and drooling. About one block into our cross town journey we spotted a wine bar and wordlessly moved towards it, sat down and ordered. This is one of the many reasons I love Ila, as she can read my mind and understands that my mind is usually thinking about wine. We drank and caught up and then made friends with the Scottish tourists seated next to us. Apparently we made an excellent impressions as we were given their names and town in Scotland and told we should visit and ask for them. Don't think I won't.




My last night involved eating shocking amounts of pizza and crying in the east village. Lots of hugs and 'move back you idiot' and then I was on my way back here to Hell-A. Since arriving I have slept and had a cat permanently attached to my head. And I am sad. I miss home and realize that New York may not be as out of my system as I thought.