No pictures

i cannot believe I haven't taken any pictures. I will have to do that soon.

I got the Sick. The Sick that is floating around everyday and every nite looking for victims on the subway. I was frolicking around the city without a care of purell or hand washing. I thought I would be doing myself a favor in the long run. No, I wasn't. Luckily, it is just a wee cold and I just feel crumby, not like I am dying.

I went to the "art opening" of my favorite blogger last night, The Sartorialist. He takes pictures of people that "look good" on the street and makes a post about them. His pictures were printed out and displayed, but you couldn't see them through the 1,000 people that showed up. Not that many, but the line was out the door and half the block down to get in. I was there early, so it was cramped, but I didn't have to wait. Was it worth it? Mostly.

I should be working on my resume, so as much fun as sitting in bed and writing about my nite has been, it's time to go.

The Move

It is the day before I move to NYC. I am celebrating with a cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, and thus I have come to realize that I don't know how to properly 'celebrate.' Do I know what 'to celebrate' means? Is having a cup of coffee...a celebration? I have packed my large suitcases with things I need (long johns) and things I don't need (over sized paperclips). This move has been really easy and really hard. I went the slow, do a little each day route, and all of a sudden I had no furniture and no car. Packing my bags however, has ruined any hopes of living a baggage free life in '08. I can't seem to shake my addiction to office supplies and glass antiques. Not to mention, 'quitting sugar for good' has only compounded my packing stress.

I have received a bludgeoning from the 'Omen's office,' if there is such a place. My car started to sputter the moment I needed to sell it, my teeth show up riddled with cavities (11), I have a black bruise on my back the size of an English muffin and my foot (the one I need for walking) has started to pain me. The cavities alone would drive a man to stay home from NYC, but not me...I am a survivor.

When I arrive in NYC, I don't expect to cry myself to sleep...I will post on what actually happens.