I had a fairly active Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Let me share . . .
Thursday Paul and Alisha and their kids were in town for the day and I got to hang out with them for a bit.
We lunched Ukrainian-style at Veselka. I'd never seen kids so crazy about potato pancakes, pierogis, and stuffed cabbage. Plates were licked clean, literally.
Then we walked over to the Milk Bar to try out the new pie-flavored softserves and some good old cookies and cakeballs.
If I had to pick a backup set of kids to go to Disneyland with, I'd take these ones.
Took a little walk over to Washington Square Park.
And that was about it for me and Paul's family. For now. Because we will definitely hang again.
A few hours later I found myself at the Milkbar again, this time with some tourists from DC. Tourists like Rebekah.
And Kat. (incase cakeballs need advertising, I submit this on-the-go endorsement)
Then it was Friday and I saw these balls.
And my initials. I didn't write them there. I Promise.
Looks like one of my favorite graffiti guys is on his way out. Someone must have been messing with his timestream.
Later on, saw a West Village Deli Cat. You don't know about deli cats?
That night I met up with the DC tourists at the Noodle Bar and finally met the famous Maggie.
And finally met the famous Melissa.
And finally met the new shrimp bun. (That's a patty of shrimps that I'm guessing are meat-glued together and then fried [I'm not guessing that it's been fried, that I can say I'm positive about], a total hit . . . shades of my beloved Ebi Fliet-O)
And then we rolled up on the Milk Bar one more time. Friday nights it gets a little busier in there.
Then I dropped the travelers off at Grand Central, they had a train to catch.
Would you believe this is the best shot from a series of pictures I managed to really ruin? Sometimes I think "looking distracted" is a good pose for photographs. It isn't.
And Saturday night I went clubbin', which is something I do every couple years.
Went to the Pyramid Club which plays 80s music but, thankfully, does not require 80's-themed apparel or featured 80's decorations. Right, Jen?
But my last visit's dance-gladiator was better than this dude. Sorry! You can't beat the Road Warrior.
Ingrid had been modeling that day.
Monica displaying proper dancefloor enthusiasm.
Wait . . . is that Chris? Yes. Yes it is.
A mage appeared with pet lightning for sale.
Take our picture, they said. We're not ready yet, they said.
Laser blasts all over the place.
And then it was time to go home.
Now you might be wondering, "What about Sunday? Did you do anything Sunday?" and in response I must say, "Wait. Wait for a very short but important post."