East Siiiiide

Boy this internet addiction is worse than crack. I come back to Valhalla today for my week of Anesthesia fun in the WMC and have just spent 2 hours in front of my computer, basking in the glory of LAN-pleasure. My temporary roommate Kathleen has not yet been able coax the cable guy from coming until two Wednesdays from now. She and I, suffering together, will have to wait another 11 days.

Yet the past week has been somewhat of a vacation. With an easy rotation in rehab and virtually no studying to do, I did my share of explorations I have meant to do during all these years I attended this school. Of course this taught me that a) the expensiveness of the city is inevitable, no matter how hard you try and b) I need better shoes. The latter conclusion came after I developed multiple blisters on both my feet, and, lacking the sterile and sharp equipment needed to eliminate them, proceeded to pop them with a) rubbing alcohol b) a tissue and c) a pushpin (and d - my tetanus booster 5 years ago).

Pain nonwithstanding, putting my legs to good use outside of the gym was readily welcome (despite the >95 degree heat and humidity). I discovered (well, with the guidance of my fellow classmate and tourguide Freddie) the bike trail along the East river, though questionable in its scenic appeal, serves an excellent (and cheaper) alternative to the gym. Admittedly on multiple occassions I desperately wished I were male and could thus make do without the shirt and sportsbra. The hosed down look is not terribly flattering on me. Maybe I need to invest in some waterproof mascara.

The camera my family gave me came to good use this week, mainly to take more pictures of myself (vain vain person!). But now, instead of my cramped and clustered room, I have as my background my sublet, graced by the quaint stylings of Kathleen. (Oh what I could do with some patience and some money. Patience, mainly.) Taking self-photos has been an addiction, and happily I feel less silly and self-conscious with each photo shoot.

But last night I took the first ones not of myself. Atop the rooftop at the Met, my 3rd or 4th favorite part of the museum. Despite the humidity and the hoards of people, cocktails in hand and appropriately chic for the occassion that is Friday night, it was charming.

Here's a piece from the LeWitt exhibit on the terrace. Appropriately reflecting the city skyline. Boris and I agreed that it was LSD like. (Which I informed him later was quite the safe drug.)

So I will be back in one week, to enjoy 2 weeks of freedom and NYC.
I thought I shouldn't deny my adoring audience one more picture, though. (Cheeky)