Thursday, December 09, 2004

Me and My Terrycloth Kilt

I'm writing this on dueling iBooks.

Did I mention that Jessica's apartment is a toaster? It is. It's not, but it is, in nearly every sense of the world. Not that I'm ungrateful for this swelter shelter, but the place is small, rectangular and cursed with a runaway heating system that makes every night feel like that night I had the fever that gave me the weird dreams about spiders.

What we did:
  • Saw what we thought was a sizable chunk of Central Park but actually was the tiniest sliver of the southernmost section. (The park actually covers like fifty blocks vertically and maybe ten horizontally. It's also a rectangle but much, much bigger than Jessica's apartment and not nearly as thermally kooky.
  • Saw MOMA, which just opened and rocks.
  • Saw Fifth Avenue and all the fancypants shopping areas thereabouts. (We bought nothing.)
  • Saw FAO Schwartz, which was lousy with sticky fingered children and pushy moms with strollers. (Anxiety attack.)
  • Saw the Rainbow Room, where "Conan" and "SNL" tape.
  • Saw Radio City Music Hall.
  • Possibly saw the Rockefeller Christmas tree. (Honestly, we're not sure. I told Adam that if we really did see it, we'd know and there shouldn't be any question whether a given tree was the Rockefeller Christmas tree or not.)
  • Saw Times Square. (The Vegas Strip with peacoats.)
  • Had time to kill so we saw another movie. ("House of Flying Daggers." Shitty. I've never before fallen asleep in a movie theater but I think it's funny that the first flick to put me under would be called "House of Flying Daggers."
  • The nicest Sbarro's ever.
And then I was a tired puppy — to tired to go out last night.

Today's plans: pending.

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