…for my previous new york city itinerary, click here.
realize on a four hour bus to nyc that you should never read the book thief on the bus, as you will most likely want to sob/ugly cry into the shoulder of the nice-seeming man sitting next to you.
spend the rest of the night recuperating from the episode by eating hush puppies with a guy friend from home on a bed-stuy stoop.
wake up the next morning for a lovely brunch at caravan of dreams with the lovely danielle. nom to your (mostly vegan) heart’s content on a breakfast burrito, pre-noon sangria, and a decaf iced coffee whilst chatting over silly boys, nerding out over graduate school, and blogs.
be walked by the chivalrous danielle to the strand bookstore to buy a book you’ve been wanting to inconspicuously buy for the last three years (more on this later). not possible. you still got eyebrow raises from the various hipsters that lurk in the dark and feed upon musty basement air and the prospect of kurt vonnegut tattoos. naturally.
run into some of your favorite lady friends that you’ve known since you were a wee little kenzie, with a penchant for spit-balls, memorizing the whole of the movie “the princess diaries” and double-daring each other to eat mysterious concoctions at slumber parties.
spend 5 minutes comparing arm-pit hair to see who would win. fortuitously lose by a long-shot.
go to a free concert that involved a badass lead singer kicking over a huge amp on a stage overlooking the river. almost witness a drunken brawl, but slowly back away like you’re a cartoon rabbit that doesn’t know what is going on.
wake in the morning to the prospect of blood orange donuts, cute boys that know how to fix bikes (swoon sauce. i would gladly break my brakes), and overpriced t-shirts boasting the apparent self-esteem boosting properties of massachusetts.
spend fifteen minutes whispering to yourself, “mango agua fresca…why did you have to end?” in the heat wave at brooklyn flea as you try on purple cat-eye glasses that will only be cute until you realize how hipster they make you look.
get yourself to a lower east side dumpling house ASAP, because our floridian was starting to show. chug a gallon of oj on the train and praise the bounty of your motherland (i’ve honestly never met a floridian that doesn’t have a gallon of oj in their fridge at any point of time plus a bag of oranges).
realize you’ve got another two weeks of bus travel until you can eat oranges off your own tree and fend off baby alligators in your cul de sac. god bless america.
cross another library off the list. lose a little bit more shame with each foot-pop of your signature pose.
truly believe your friends are talking about crazy art-school alley cats when they say “let’s go see the pratt cats!”, and show genuine shock when they have award winning felines that live in an old engine room. of course, pratt. of course.
say toodles to nyc by giving your regards to broadway or whatever. thank the city for the free purse you scored from a stoop sale, yet another lost nalgene, a belly full of vegetable buns, and an awkward back tan from staying outside to stare at cute bike-shop boys.
and this was the abridged version.