24 hours in NYC…
Recently I’ve been missing New York, and specifically, my little corner of Clinton Hill in Brooklyn. So if I had 24 hours in NYC…
I would wake up (delightfully late), from my beyond gorgeous bed, in my beyond cosy yellow-glowing bedroom, pull my black trench on over my nightgown, and run down the street for a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese for breakfast.
Then I would take the subway to the Upper West Side and visit with my therapist. 50 minutes and a box of tissues later I would head crosstown to Barney’s for a new perfume and lipstick. Oh, the joy of being a woman! Then I would head downtown and buy up everything I could from Stella McCartney and J. Crew. After that I would hop the A to the G back to Clinton Hill and chill at home catching up on SVU, Kell on Earth, and Glenn Beck (quality), as well as the Bachelorette and the Bachelor (trash).
Once cocktail hour came around I would slip on a silk dress, some amazon heels, and piles of jewelry and meet friends at a local bar and start sipping Bombay martinis before having dinner at The General Greene. Why isn’t duck a regular part of my diet? When was the last time I had mache? Or Port Salut?
I actually don’t care. The time will come.
I know that it wouldn’t be long before I started worrying about Looloo and Feefee and if I was missing a fabulous party at River Lodge.
But it’s fun to fantasize.
