Home Again, Home Again...I refuse to Dance a Jig
I have once again returned to the LBC.
More's the pity.
Anyway, I bid dear old NYC goodbye last night and hopped a plane to Richmond, only to find that I much prefer the cooler climate and throngs of people. It was an amazing trip! I stayed in this great apartment just off Wall Street, the only downside being that it took either twenty bucks per cab or two connecting trains to get to Midtown. But once there, I fell in love with the city again. I spent a great deal of time in Chelsea with the crew...oh and I met...him.
Does anyone else believe in fate? Because when I fall down a flight of stairs in the NBC building, get caught before I hit the bottom by a stranger whose gorgeous English voice asks me "Is your ankle alright?" I pretty much crumble to pieces and start believing in that whole 'love' thing.
Oh well, it's not like I'll see him again anyway.
I've had coffee at the New York Palace. I wrote a poem in Rockefeller Center. I went ice skating and bought a Tiffany ring (every girl should own something from Tiffany's at one time in her life or another). I lit a candle in St. Patrick's Cathedral. I've haggled prices in China Town, been to the best pubs in the Meat Packing District, and hob-nobbed with the best of the artsy fartsies in the Metropolitan art Museum. Not to mention I made some great friends at the Waldorf and on the Metro.
I'm a freaking legend.
More's the pity.
Anyway, I bid dear old NYC goodbye last night and hopped a plane to Richmond, only to find that I much prefer the cooler climate and throngs of people. It was an amazing trip! I stayed in this great apartment just off Wall Street, the only downside being that it took either twenty bucks per cab or two connecting trains to get to Midtown. But once there, I fell in love with the city again. I spent a great deal of time in Chelsea with the crew...oh and I met...him.
Does anyone else believe in fate? Because when I fall down a flight of stairs in the NBC building, get caught before I hit the bottom by a stranger whose gorgeous English voice asks me "Is your ankle alright?" I pretty much crumble to pieces and start believing in that whole 'love' thing.
Oh well, it's not like I'll see him again anyway.
I've had coffee at the New York Palace. I wrote a poem in Rockefeller Center. I went ice skating and bought a Tiffany ring (every girl should own something from Tiffany's at one time in her life or another). I lit a candle in St. Patrick's Cathedral. I've haggled prices in China Town, been to the best pubs in the Meat Packing District, and hob-nobbed with the best of the artsy fartsies in the Metropolitan art Museum. Not to mention I made some great friends at the Waldorf and on the Metro.
I'm a freaking legend.