Betty hits the Big City

There had to have been subliminal advertising calling all beautiful people to the Frying Pan on Saturday(a salvaged historic boat turned bar, that docks on the Hudson River). It was like an unannounced modeling call. It'd be more in my nature to say my friends and I fit right in, but I have to be real on this one to show you just how beautiful these people truly were- my friends were the ugly ducklings.

Looking back, I should have paparazzi’d, but my hands were tied up, Corona at fault. I've got a few shots of the folk that matters, but again, argue all you want- we were not the finest specimens.


That IS Betty. Betty is Beth, is Babs, is the 2nd half of 2 Girls, 1 Backpack. And THAT, that annoyingly tanner than me girl, is all of these nicknames in NYC! Last frolicking day we had together, we wuz in da Asia. We had spent 2 months time practically on top of each other. And this weekend it was that all over again-it was "same, same, but different." The same, same part was the fact that we were on top of each other (4 girls, 2 bedroom), sweat was ruining our look, and the days had no particular plan. The different part was that it was 2 days, not months, we had decently cute outfits on, and our drinks were definitely not half a dollar. We also had some company that Asia has yet to meet. Among the crowd was girlfriend Tap, Jess and her group of swaggin ladies who I continue to fall in love with as the days fly by and the E-mail chains drag on at work. Seriously, these girls rock and I've loved mooching off Jess for cool new friends. Scott, the Philly Cheesesteak connoisseur, and a few of his friends, including birthday boy Pierre, were also in attendance. The night before, so Friday, Scott decided if and when he is re-mentioned in this here blog, that I would refer to him as Scottie2Hottie. Well, I would have totally gone along with it had his newly acquired, sunburn (on only one half of his face) not ruined such a look.

Après La Frying Pan, we trekked over to Maracas-which has no correlation to why I just started that sentence in French, seeing as it was a Mexican restaurant. It was just Beth, Tap and I from the earlier herd, meeting Meghan- a coworker of Tap's who happened to live above the grande establishment that served us 2 pitchers of margaritas, an app of guacamole and a second app of queso, and plenty of complimentary salsa. Let's just say, we are not exactly the customers that restaurants serving bottomless bowls of chips are looking for.

Saturday night was out of the question, with big exploring plans for Sunday. Neither Tap, Beth nor I contested our 10 pm bedtime. The next morning we were actually not as refreshed as hoped, but we still managed to hop up, and run out in the direction of Katz's deli. Katz's deli is home to that famous scene in When Harry Met Sally when Meg Ryan faked that orgasm. Though my Matzo Brie didn’t evoke SUCH pleasure, I still boldly note my satisfaction.





The hours after that were spent giving Beth the tour de NYC. We had a lot of turf to cover, even though she WILL be back shortly for the permanent move. We walked around Lower East, East Village, Greenwich, alllll the way up to Time Square (I know, but you can't not show a first timer.. .), alllll the way back down to Battery Park to see the Statue of Liberty and Ground Zero, Washington Square for street music, Rays Pizza for my favorite slice, and Yogurt Station to wrap the day (and this post) up sweetly.


Oh wait.. this was just true snoozin love in the park:


Ah, this too:

There was a freedom parade near Times Square. And this made me cry- in part because I miss Asia, in part because the Asian Peace Sign Pose cracks me up to tears every time.

K, I'm done.