This weekend I spent with my mother doing touristy city things like staying in a hotel, shopping at Macy's, eating at the Brooklyn Diner (overpriced, not the kind of diner food I wanted) and seeing How to Succeed in Business, at which many 14-year-old girls kept me and Daniel Radcliffe apart, hindering our love. Don't worry, we can both feel it. It'll happen someday.
We also did not-touristy things, like seeing The Help (SO GOOD! One of the best book-to-movie adaptations I've seen), eating at Rosa Mexicano, and going to the Pony Bar for dinner. I took my mother to dinner at a bar. I'm super classy. But guess what?? The food there is delicious. Like, I can't really even handle how good it is. I would eat there every day if my finance and metabolism would allow it.
When I dropped my mom off at Grand Central, I cried like I used to when my cousins would leave to go back to New Hampshire after visiting for the day. (True story: one time I cried so much that they took me back with them. No joke) But seriously, man, I'll admit it, I was that lame-o twenty-one year old college graduate with the biggest backpack on earth and a Macy's bag full of clothes and cupcakes crying on her mom's shoulder in the middle of the terminal. Listen, dude, real life is hard! It's confusing! And weekends are way too short. So I'll own it. I cried. In fact, I went home and cried some more. And watched 30 Rock.
Spin class. It sucks. Don't let anyone tell you different. Granted, it sucked less than it did when I tried it at the Gold's Gym in Enfield two summers ago (no, I canNOT go up another gear and if you ask me ONE MORE TIME I will get off of this bike and THROW IT AT YOU) and it probably would have been decent if I had remembered to bring my inhaler (can someone please tell me why I am so susceptible to respiratory infections?) and I will probably go next week but still. I wanted. To die.
Our apartment gives us headaches, both literally and figuratively. We finally got a mail key (I SWEAR I didn't lose it. But I don't know what happened to it) and got our electric bill, awesome, not, but our toilets are still running. I sometimes forget that it's daytime when I hide out in my basement. There are centipedes taking over. The fridge sometimes is REALLY cold and sometimes it just turns off altogether. It smells like trash in the front because the trash dump is right outside our window. And I still haven't cleaned my room. But all in all, it's probably a pretty good first apartment.
I'm contemplating starting another blog. But I don't blog in this already, and I'm really bad at sticking to blogs about one topic because I just love talking about me and myself and whatever I want to say. So we'll see. And it'd be anonymous, so I wouldn't really be able to post it here. So I guess this paragraph was just all pointless.
When in doubt, have a cupcake.
Love,
Courtney
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