Indeed

I did indeed spend the weekend in the big city, as it was my birthday, although I am hesitant to liberally rub that fact on the members of my modest social circle. I had a wonderful time, but instead of giving you the play-by-play, which you certainly would skip, I will give you some highlights which accented the weekend quite nicely:

Being treated to lunch by Vladimir (my boarder) and then his getting upset a few hours later when he found out it was my birthday.

Being called in the restaurant by my Great Aunt, who, when I am on the phone with her, I have to speak exceptionally loudly, and having to make the difficult decision as to whether to terminate the conversation or feel bad and speak really loudly. I chose the former.

Being the coldest I have ever been standing in the howling wind in Times Square waiting for tickets.

Vladimir remarking that the lead female in the musical we saw reminded him of a centaur.

Watching a father place his five year old son in front of a Jackson Pollock painting at MOMA and asking him how the painting made him feel.

Vladimir (a common theme) telling a story about how he hates Mariachi bands because he doesn't want to tip them but feels obligated, and how one time at a Mexican restaurant a mariachi band came up to him and he just handed them 15 dollars and told them to leave.

So, all in all, a very successful weekend. Next weekend i'm going to the District (Washington DC, for you squares) to see my mom. hoo-zah.

And I've been meaning for a while to do an entry detailing the epic personality of my roommate, but the muses for that particular entry have proved both elusive and resilient. One will come in time.

Southward are some photographs

Jyaa.