Oh, the things that I've seen!

Such a short vacation but completely chock-full of all that I needed: food, folks, and fun.

Day one was rather rained-out, but I wasn't at all discouraged from strutting around my old haunts (around the NYU campus).

Crazy knitted-heads-on-stakes in a window on Broadway.

I also got a haircut; nothin' major, but I needed the hands of an old, trusted stylist to start shaping my flappery bob thang into something a bit longer. Yes, gasp-- I'm going to grow 'er out.

A fellow patron's young son and his extremely bitchin' footwear.

Later in the day, as I stopped by the macrobiotic bodega near my brother's place to pick up a bottle of Peche Lambic for a dinner party at my brother's place, I spotted this young filly whose rained-out style begged for a photograph. Meaw.

Ankles? Wet. Neck? Dry.

The next day, I wandered through Central Park as I waited to meet my friend at the Park Avenue Armory.

Although I didn't pay admission, I did get to see some children's theater, seals, and cool sculptures. I also ate a mango with Valentina hot sauce, lemon juice and salt on it and I was pleased as hell.

We checked out the Ernesto Neto exhibit...


...a hand-knit world meant to evoke a body cavity, complete with uvulae containing spices like clove and lavender.

...and plastic balls.

Myself...

My dear lovely friend.

The Armory itself is a pretty rad old building... we busied ourselves by climbing up cordoned off stairs and ringing old mess bells.

Where few but vermin (and curators) dare go.

The stained glass ain't half bad, either.

Later, we went to hear a friend's band play back at Central Park, accompanied by Charlie, the young pup.

Me, the sweet pupper, and my shoes (Dolce Vita, and $11 on Amazon. For reals).

This guy rode by and I instantly craved cotton candy.


The day closed with dinner at Yuca Bar (uhhhmazing) with another old friend...

Pulled-pork stuffed plaintains make you pose smarmily.

The following short day involved a visit to a craft fair in McCarren Park...

I ended up with the magenta Skeledog shirt; my sweetay got the green Labrador one.

Followed by car-talk with these folks preparing a 1909 Maxwell for tomorrow (Tuesday)'s 100th year anniversary of the first woman's driver's license.

I still regret not begging a ride.

And I closed the day out by mourning over shoes that wouldn't fit in my luggage...

Oh, the brutal pain! -- of not having them, I mean!

The trip really was too damn short, but I'm glad to be back. And frankly, I'm glad I'm glad. When I moved to Ohio from New York, I was afraid that I'd never be glad to be back in Ohio after returning from a trip to NYC. But as it turns, life here, while considerably less full of knit heads on sticks, flivvers, and Roy Lichtenstein-inspired pumps is sweet nonetheless.

Yours,

Elissa.