I am leafing through a Costco business supplies magazine and listening to The Virgins, which i read about in Metro, or Am, or one of those silly subway reads that is written to get the disgruntled through their morning commute. It's nice and fun and funky and makes me want to slink my shoulders, sip a gin and tonic and dance with James Franco.
This is what gets me through this midweek madness.
(to boston or not to boston? that is the question of the hour/week. for some unknown reason, i feel....dare i say....homesick. for new york. i want to wake up lazily and leaf through gawker and head out into the afternoon farmer's markets and drink coffee and spike my diet coke with vanilla vodka. (blech!!)
i also want to celebrate Jena's birthday was the boston crew....and i can't seem to make up my damn mind.
i feel like a turtle, whose shell is New York and who can think of nothing more than to hide in it.
a slow, thoughtful, and confused little turtle. who likes gin.
anyway.)
signing off, with that "you've got to be kidding me" look that has been plastered on my face for about 2 weeks.....
yours truly....
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