escape.

in

one of the best pieces of advice i ever got was as follows:

do five things you don't want to do. and do them all before noon.

some days, like today, the list begins with (1) getting out of bed and (2) taking a shower. and i continue on from there.

i don't know if it's the heat, the long days of summer or what but i've been feeling a lot like turning on my "no vacancy" light. there are things i simply don't want to deal with.

i'm starting to think i should be sequestered to a remote island for the coming month where my interaction with people will be minimal.

actually, come to think of it, a month in natural sunshine, by real water, far away from the concerns of every-day-life...that's ideal.

hmmm. how do i make that happen?

napoli








photos by: 

my manhattan: and summer rushes in.

in

summer version

through the links

brunch gals

amnh

public brunch

afternoon red

{i am a terrible person in this heat. it turns me into an utterly horrible human being}.

for anyone who wishes to enjoy the real new york i invite you to come stay in a prewar apartment--an apartment without central air. let's make it a sixth floor walk-up, shall we (just for kicks)? sixth floor walk-up means no elevator.

now i invite you to bring your groceries up those six-flights into your non-airconditioned apartment. keep in mind it's 100 degrees and new york humidity rivals the very best (i'm from houston, so i should know). remember that in order to get those groceries you had to head into the bowels of the city and travel on a steal contraption (the subway) with countless other terrible human beings (made so by the heat) where you fought tooth and nail to get a small basket through narrow aisles and to not be run over by women half-a-foot shorter who've lived in new york so long they give the word entitlement new meaning.

this is just a slice of life right now.

winter here is long and hard. and i always suffer a little bout of sadness. the thing is, i'm starting to think the heat has the same effect.

the texan in me knows little more to do than pray--pray for the sweet release of a thunderstorm.

thank goodness for sunday brunches with the best of girlfriends, friday night viewings of harry potter, and thai papaya salads to keep me from all-together-falling-apart.

here's to hoping this next week the rain comes, things cool off a bit, and my friends continue to tolerate my changing disposition.