Summertime

Saturday I had work until late late late. 1am. Lots of drunk old people came in. At one point around 12 a lady kept tapping me so I turned around and she slurred: "WhHEerRER are my cigaretttttesss??? GivE emeee emy cigarettetess"

Anyway, after I was finally let out, I was hungry! Nick met me at Artichoke (btw, if you click on that, scroll down all the way and read the poem someone wrote about it)

He said that the pizza tasted like mushroom soup on a hunk of bread. Suddenly the once deliciously creamy spinach artichoke pizza tasted like mushroom soup. He did this to me last time when I was obsessed with Momofuku milk bar's froyo, and I got the cantaloupe honey flavor. I was so excited. But then he walked over to a deli and bought a pack of twizzlers and said, 'That tastes like twizzlers" and after a bite of twizzler, my once delicious cantaloupe froyo turned into a twizzler forever. So now instead of being a happy girl with her gourmet trendy cantaloupe honey froyo and artichoke pizza that she waited in line for forever, I'll be a sad girl at home with a pack of twizzlers and some mushroom soup.

Sunday we picked up my new glasses in Chinatown. Now I can finally say goodbye to my old glasses that Nick said made me look like "Soojin the Graphic Designer". Now he claims I look like a Jewish aunt. Great.

We went to whole foods and I bought two snack packs. We went to the Christopher St. Pier and ate by the water. Then Nick showed me Julian Schnabel's big pink brownstone. There was something almost religious about it, cohesive and disorienting, I felt a strange sort of energy being around it. Nick said that the reason why the doors were so so unusually big was so they could transport his paintings, which are HUGE.

After a bit of a walk through the East Village, we stopped for a drink.

Then I went to my Rolfing session. During Rolfing, the Rolfer massages you so hard that it hurts. Strangely, this time I barely felt it and almost fell asleep.