And the food coma continues. I hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving feasts (or had a good Thursday, for you non-Americans. hi Annie!). I’m still sort of anti-Thanksgiving (and Halloween), but it was nice to have the day off and not have to worry about anything except what portion of my stomach was available for cranberry sauce and turkey, and which I needed to save to finish off the last of my macarons. IT’S ALL ABOUT THE MACARONS.
I took exactly 2 pictures during my 3 day stay down the beach, and roughly 150 during my 28 hour stay in New York. How does that even happen? The beach was awesome, the whole town was quiet and empty and I got a manicure at a casino spa and ate lots of good food. Each night was capped off with a Malibu and Pineapple and a disc of old Office episodes. Fitz got to run around a fenced-in baseball field, but I was a nervous wreck the entire time thinking he would find a way to get out of the gate and into traffic (he didn’t, fyi).
I’m glad the beach was relaxing and relatively sunny, because New York was a crazy rush of trying to fit too much in and constant, cold rain. The hotel I stayed at was the oldest operating hotel in New York (Faulkner wrote his Nobel Prize acceptance speech there!) and had a resident cat named Matilda, a long-haired ragdoll kitty who perched herself on the counter at check-in and oversaw things. Other things of note: the wallpaper in the hallways was old New Yorker cartoons, and they charged me $6 for a club soda in the lobby bar.
Obviously, I took a cab to-and-from Ladurée in the pouring rain and grid-locked traffic to give them more of my money than I’m willing to disclose. I could have put that money in my savings account, but my savings account is not edible, doesn’t smell like blackcurrant & violet, and WHATEVER I’M YOUNG. I had dinner and drinks with friends Tuesday night and ended the night dancing in the Meatpacking District until 1am, woke up the next morning and had macarons for breakfast (they have a coffee flavored one, it counted). I’d always wanted to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and finally got my chance Wednesday morning. Of course, it was overcast all morning, but the rain held off until the moment my feet hit the bridge and then skies opened up and wouldn’t quit. I hid for cover in an organic cafe in Brooklyn Heights, and then the rest of the afternoon was a symphony of opening and closing umbrellas as the rain clouds passed, in between gasps of delight at the views of the bridges and lower Manhattan. I also got to see Jane’s Carousel, even though it was closed. Rather than take the subway back across the river, I opted for the ferry, which was so quick I barely had time to sit down or take my lens cap off. The afternoon ended with a late lunch in the West Village and lots more wandering around, oggling real estate.
So now I’m out of macarons and feeling like I ate as though I’m carrying triplets or something. What is it about vacation that always makes you over-indulge? Coupled with Thanksgiving I don’t think I’ll ever eat again. Until I get a craving for Ladurée, obviously.
Have a great weekend! I’ve been such a bad blog-friend this week. How was your week? What are you doing this weekend? See you Monday!