We had a good old-fashioned, Midwest-style thunderstorm in NYC on Saturday. Oh man. I was so happy–so happy that for once I could just sit on my bed and enjoy the thunder and lightning and dark, dark clouds. I was safe and dry–unlike the silly people I could see below dashing around on the sidewalk. And I had a stack of magazines to read, too. I also saw The Great Gatsby–which left me feeling overstimulated, in a bad way.
And then Sunday dawned bright and not-at-all-cloudy and I ventured to Williamsburg where it was sunny and warm and full of hipsters. And then I had to take the L back to the city where I accidentally exited the subway and had to swipe again to take the C uptown to the lovely Upper West Side. That was annoying. But it was delightful weekend.
Hello? I Forgot My Mantra. 