Stop me if you've heard this before....

Oh, right, right, you can't stop me, you can just stop reading! AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ok. That's out of my system; it's safe to go on.

I adore New York City. I do. I love all of it, while granting you that I've never been exposed to the seamy underbelly -- or for that matter, even to the outer boroughs, because JFK doesn't count. My grandparents lived in the Bronx (Parkchester, Dad's side; well, Mom's too, 'til she grew up) and in Brooklyn (Sheepshead Bay, here's my shout out to Nostrand Avenue, yo!) and I haven't been to either of those places in probably.... hm... twenty years, so I'm not going to pretend some outside-Manhattan cred, but I just love New York City. The big island, as it were. It's just perfect. You can get anywhere, talk to strangers, find anything in the world to see, listen to, eat, marvel at, write home about, etc etc etc. Ohhhh, to win the lottery and have a pied a terre in Murray Hill. Gramercy! Chelsea! Fifth Avenue across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art!! Hey, don't burst my bubble. It could happen.

Anyway: got there Saturday evening, after standing by on an earlier flight from LAX than my planned-for midnight flight, since Bryan left at the crack for Houston b/c the trial actually went forward as scheduled, shock of shocks. Plane was nearly empty, which I found strange. I eavesdropped shamelessly on beautiful woman in 40s talking to very handsy but pretty clearly card-carrying F.o.D. seatmate. They were pretty. And they were fun. He, too, turned out at flight's end to be both charming and extremely amusing, talking extendedly on his cell while making his way out of the bowels of terminal 7, tirelessly berating whatever family member (it was clearly a family member, and anyone who's ever met or heard of my mother will know why I knew it instantly) was haplessly on the other end of the line. (Boy, this sure is the adverbs post, ain't it?!) I digress, as ever.

Spent a lot of time with Lili, which was fun -- it's kind of like being with my mom but not -- and took her and Noofie out to dinner at 11 Madison Park one night, which was lovely and delicious. That was like being with my mom x50, although still fun because it's kind of like all the great parts of my mom and none of the shit. It looks as though I'll be back in NY in January for NJ's second wedding (in 3 years, and he's just 29, but who's counting?), although I did manage to crack wise that I get a refund if this marriage doesn't last 6 months. I know, I know, I'm a bitch. Tell it to someone who's in the dark.

Only saw HF once, which was a major bummer, but I was working a lot and he was working a lot, and at least we got to hang out Sunday and see ELM and ERM and have a ridiculous brunch at Norma's (oh. muh. GAWD. the hair-hat on our waiter!!! words fail me) and walk around looking into gallery windows. Had dinner with Susan Monday in (help me) Hoboken, but could not rally lame-ass Ryan into joining us, which turned out for the best. Sister time is good. Took Robbo to lunch to pay off a bet on Tuesday, enjoying the Sidecar at PJ Clarke's enormously -- yumOLA, man. He's such a great guy; I want everything to work out for him exactly as it should, because he has more than earned it. Cross your fingers. Light a candle.

You already saw something about D.C. (maaaan, that hotel was fiiiiine), but the other highlights were getting to meet Sylvia and getting to hang out a little with R and R, both of whom are impossibly funny and dry and great. Good times, good times. We'll see what these new job aspects do to my schedule next year. At the risk of sounding like an ingrate, I'd still rather have a baby than a promotion or a raise, so if you're sending good wishes this way, make them "conceive a healthy baby" wishes rather than anything else.

All righty then. I'm off. Where to, you wonder? Reunion organization. Suuuuuuucks. But it will be fun to see people, in any event, so this ennui will pass.