In case any of you are following the terror threat on the subways here in New York and are biting your nails and fretting over our safety (anyone?) we want you to know that we aren’t dead, or blown up, or anything else dramatic, though we are a bit inconvenienced, and also it’s very exciting! Half the subways are shut down or not running, or running but on different tracks, it's pretty thrilling.

We walked to work on Friday. It took us just a half an hour to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and that sucker is long, and it was jam-packed. There were cop cars with their lights blinking at every subway stop and an officer on practically every train. They say the attack is supposed to happen tomorrow, and luckily we don't need to ride the subways on Sundays, and it's raining cats and dogs, which is neither here nor there, but aren’t I adding to the ambiance with these details? (I thought so.)

Speaking of rain. New York with umbrellas is a little bit nutty. Walking down the street you're fine, but once you get to an intersection it’s all over. New York seems to have consistently dubious intersection behavior; people zig, they zag, like ants who've lost the trail and yet somehow, everyone gets where they need to be. Some raise their umbrellas high, others have to duck down, some move their umbrellas to the left, others to the right, and everyone has to change position as new walkers weilding umbrellas in their various positions emerge on the path. It's like a strange dance, and a major adrenaline rush.

And speaking of cops. I am learning that there really are "good" cops and "bad" cops. An example of bad cops: to get to Bedford PA last weekend we had to take the Holland Tunnel, which, folks, is HARD. It’s this huge tunnel, but it’s like, impossible to find! And you’re on Canal Street, and then you’re not, and then suddenly it’s TriBeCa and you’re like, are we close yet? And then magically, the Tunnel just appears before you, like a giant mouth to the sea. And you gulp and drive in and then you’re there in that tunnel for something like forever and then you emerge and it’s New Jersey. (kind of a let down.) There was a particularly bad-type bad cop directing traffic there last weekend, who Brandon may or may not have called him a dildo. (I’ll never tell.) (It was a rush!) But the cops this weekend are all really nice, and really cute. Flirty even. Yes flirty! After the incident with the Dildo Cop I started to think that all those 9/11 cops who were heroes must not really exist, but after today I've realized it's just that there are Terrorist Cops, and then there are Traffic Cops. Terrorist cops are way cute. Traffic cops can kiss my bootie.

The End.



It is a drowsy dreary day out today. The clouds are all droopy and my office is freezing, and I am dreaming of pulling on my thickest sweats and climbing in between the covers and sleeping clear until tomorrow.

My brain is asleep.

When I was little we had these Beatrix Potter videos we'd watch over and over, and each one would start with Beatrix setting a pot of tea to boil in her cottage in the rainy English countryside, and then turning to her watercolors and saying in the most wonderful British accent imaginable,

"I wonder what Peter Cottontail is up to today?"

Today I would watch that video over and over with some tea, if I could.


The Hudson (And Happy Birthday To Me!)

These nerds 
have just returned from a glorious birthday weekend in Pennsylvania.


On the drive home we talked about our first night in New York City. We got in late that night and the heat was unbearable in the apartment and there was only a bottle of margarita mix above the fridge, so we ran to the chinese restaurant next door for dinner. It was 11:30 at night and I felt awful. I was far away from my family, I felt small, lonely, and out of place. And so tired. I kept wondering, How did we get here? Can I do this? I sort of wanted to cry.

It's only been two months but the city is already starting to get to me. Going to the country was really fun, but I think  coming back to the city was even better.