Very often, when people read my blog, they comment that I’m so busy, or that I do so many things.  I suppose I do, but I don’t think about it all that much — that’s the way my life has been for a while now.  I have friends I need to catch up with, places I want to eat and go out, bands and shows to see, trips to go on  . . . and so on and so forth.  Yes, I’m exhausted sometimes.  Yes, I’m thrilled that my friends I was supposed to have dinner with on Thursday night have rescheduled, but even a "quiet night at home" usually means doing laundry, cleaning up, writing something for Gothamist, paying bills, a trip to the gym, and whatever else I can cram in.  Sometimes I think I should schedule nights to myself more often than I do, but every time I try, something comes up that I want to do.  Trust me, I’m not complaining — I wouldn’t want it any other way.  That’s my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world right now. 

* The 59th Street (or where I end up if I haven’t had coffee before I get on the subway) Bridge Song, a.k.a "Feelin’ Groovy"

the love you take is equal to the love you make."  One of my all-time favorite quotes, from the Beatles.  A similar sentiment from Hugh:

courtesy of Gaping Void

I’m not sure what was going on, but as I walked diagonally across Washington Square Park last night on the very last leg of my trip home from the beach, I saw more rats scurry across the path in front of me than I have ever seen before, and I’ve been walking across that park for over a decade at this poing.  Little ones, big ones, one huge one — perhaps they were psyched that the rainstorm was over?  Not sure.  I keep trying to think of them as squirrels with naked tails — much less "ick" factor.

Believe it or not, I did not take a single picture this weekend at the beach.  I do have a new photography project, however.  My new office is an interior one, meaning that I have no windows.  I’ve been starting to take pictures from the cafeteria, other people’s offices, and conference rooms.  The plan is to find three that I really like, and put them up on my wall, so I have a view.  This one is one of my favorites so far.

Yesterday I stumbled out into the world in my pre-caf haze and headed down into the underground oven of the West 4th Street subway stop.  I was thrilled to see that the train was just pulling in as I reached the bottom of the stairway.  I entered the cool, air-conditioned haven and buried my head in a magazine.  The stops rattled off, until suddenly I heard "59th Street, Columbus Circle.  Stand clear of the closing doors"  What?!  Shit.  With my magazine splayed open and my bag dangling precariously from my elbow, I dashed off the train.  Apparently I had hopped on the C train rather than the E and ended up clear on the wrong side of town.  So it was up the stairs and down the other side, back onto the C, but going downtown this time.  After that I somehow managed to skip 42nd Street and didn’t turn around until 34th Street (still not sure about that one), down the stairs and back up, then finally made it back to the E going uptown. 

When I arrived at work, my computer had somehow dislodged itself from the network, so it was essentially useless to me.  At that point, I wanted nothing more than to turn around, go home, get back in bed and go back to sleep.  Sigh.  Luckily I could caffeinate myself as I waited for the tech guys to fix the large paperweight on my desk.  It definitely got better from there, as a few hours later I had a power lunch at Lever House.  The food was a little too heavily salted for my taste (even the house salad was liberally dosed), but dessert, a light and crumbly lemon-almond cake topped with toasted almond ice cream, roasted stone fruits, and peanut brittle, made up for it in spades.

I’m dragging my friend Jenn out to the beach this weekend — my only scheduled trip out this month.  Have a good weekend, all!  And by the way, I finally wrote up my story for Gothamist on pickling with Rick of Rick’s Picks.  I’m looking forward to tasting those ramps!