Drinking: Lukewarm Diet Coke
I love New York.
Yeah, yeah, that’s what the t-shirt is for. But really. Who doesn’t love New York, even in January…
I’m in Manhattan for a writing conference, and let’s be honest — at least half of the reason, maybe even three-fourths of the reason I wanted to come to this conference was just to be in New York again.
It’s been a few years since I was last here. Somehow, I always seem to show up in the city during the winter, necessitating a suitcase of sweaters. I even have a big fuzzy winter coat that usually hangs mothballed in the garage because it was purchased specifically for trips to colder climes like New York and Chicago. It’s rarely cold enough in California to warrant so much fuzz.
Boy is joining me for the weekend, but for the moment I’m on my own in the big city, and enjoying the heady freedom of riding the subway to Soho and back for no apparent reason.
Of course, I’m here for the writing, too, and I’m taking pages of studious notes and ferreting away nuggets of inspiration for later, (although the blogging for writers seminar I was just in was capital B Boring).
Anyway, I’m all juiced up in the Big Apple and my MetroCard is burning a hole in my pocket. Being here just makes me feel like anything could happen, even though “anything” usually turns out to be fairly unremarkable.
So let me say it again: I really love New York!
-Lo, who feels right at home on the boisterous sidewalks.