i've got a secret smile
Places I always end up on trips to New York City: Coney Island, Yaffa, Whole Foods, the Hampton Chutney Company, Kit's bed -
but whatever, here's us eating pizza.
And equally charming pictures I missed from his premiere.
I also have a whole roll of mock American Apparel photos, thanks to the softcore lighting in Kit's bedroom and the preponderance of flimsy v-necks in both our wardrobes, but I'll wait for requests for those.
New York was fun in all the best ways, with carnivals and cuddling and red velvet cake on our plates and in our hair. I met and liked two of my friends' boyfriends, which never happens. Coney Island is where we snapped the most photos, but I'm only sparing one, my favorite for obvious reasons -
- and also for the not-so-obvious fact that I bought a pair of white sunglasses on the beach and wore them proudly all day, only to discover that in every photo I look like a cross between a puffer fish and Colin Meloy. This is the only photo where you can't see them. You can, however, see my cut-off terrycloth muumuu. And Alison's incredible swimsuit.
Tonight I read another Byatt novel, The Virgin in the Garden, something like mountaineering. Gorgeous, dense prose, so much of it sexual and pedantic and still satisfying. I need to read Milton before I read her again: if another of her references flies over my head, I'm flipping off grad school and going back to hostessing. Other good things: Dan going to happy hour with my extended family (for the third time), Danny deconstructing Jens Lekman songs on his living room couch, Meghan and I drunk-dialing Krystin on the way home. And then there's North Carolina on Tuesday. I'm still not sure how to get from the airport to campus and really less sure why I'm not so excited. It doesn't seem very real, yet. Tomorrow I'm selling clothes and seeing the dentist and then throwing everything back into my duffel bags for another cross-continental hike.