Ideals

Today was one of those days where being alive just felt sinful, it was so practically perfect. Each moment led to the next in perfect succession, each breath was filled with a lightness that only exists when a person feels complete. Today I did. And do.*I slept until about 9. That, for me, is a massive accomplishment. I'm not a good sleeper. I sleep the amount of time it takes for me to feel renewed enough to move on to the next step of life, and then I'm awake, whether it's to blink stupidly at the ceiling or to run around the apartment fulfilling chores. Whatever - today I got a lot of sleep. My counterpart, however, managed to delay his rise time until well after 10. Maybe a better description would be close to 11. But when he did rise, we spent about an hour drinking coffee together in the computer room, talking about our day, discussing options and enjoying pajama time together. If he only knew how cute he is when he sits there in his pajama clothes, twisting his ankles together and forming a new thought. He has no idea how much he is loved. Anyway, we decided to shower and head to Yura, a fantastic brunch spot at 92nd and 3rd. We've eaten there before, but today's brunch was exceptionally nice: I ate an omelet with ham, goat cheese and tomatoes and his was filled with bacon, mushrooms and havarti. They also served us a five-grain toast, which was awesome, and I drank illy coffee and he drank oj. After breakfast, we headed to the Brooklyn Bridge via the 5 train. What a wonderful activity for people who love to walk, to think, to see and to feel. See above for the reason walking even just half of the Brooklyn Bridge is positively peaceful. Understand that staring down universal urbanity from afar can yield empowering results.*After the Bridge, we were heading to a David Z shoe store to further track down the stupid (gorgeous, gleeful and perfect) UGG boots that every single cool woman in Manhattan wears. I wanted black, I wanted calf-high. I didn't want short, or brown. And I didn't want to submit some random plea over the internet to send these boots to me before my trip to London or else. So we walked into one of the two Broadway SoHo David Z locations. The streets were positively cluttered with people, all of the tourists and locals blending together who couldn't believe that today in New York City, January 7 of the year 2007, it was near 70 degrees (and here I was scouring the City for boots). I headed straight back to the UGG boots display and grabbed the only black calf-high boot I saw. I said to the gentleman nearby, who was watching me amusedly, "Do you have these in an 8?" He smiled and said, "They run large, I'd try on that 7 that you're holding if I were you." He folded his arms across his chest and added, "It's the last pair left." I nodded and sat and shoved my foot into this boot, needing it to fit. And it did. And he looked at me and said, "So you want the other one?" and I nodded enthusiastically and he said, "You're a lucky girl," and I clutched the box of boots to my chest and headed to the front of the store and every store person called out, "Wow, you're lucky," "No other store has those," "Everyone wants that pair..." and I just grinned my crooked teeth off and let the woman slide my debit card through the slot. I don't think, until I have kids someday, I will ever go through this much supply and demand backlash again. The customer service people at the counter even announced to me that I was one lucky soul. The one guy recommended I play the lottery.*And if I didn't live in New York City, would I be so fashion-savvy or concerned? Probably not. But here, it's hard to not be aware.*After shopping (Craig bought a pair of brown shoes, too) we headed to Spring Street Lounge, a cute bar listed in our Great Bars of New York Book, and had one beer. Then we walked to McSorley's. This bar is famous for its sawdust floors and for the fact that when you order one beer, they serve you two. They are small mugs of beer though. Well. And I guess they might also be a bit famous for the fact that they can boast oldest bar in New York and actually mean it. After a nervous 20 minutes there (we'd never seen wait staff gather so many mugs on single fingers to carry to tables - these were feats of impossibility carried out by the possibilitiers) - we decided to leave, to maybe head back to the neighborhood. But on our way to the subway we found a place called the Pour House, and we stopped, drank a lot of beer and ate a lot of apps. And now we're home, done with a night of New York. I love him - he's asleep on the couch and I've covered him with a blanket. But we're here together, in this monstrously happy experience together...I got a promotion at work - a big one - and together we want to conquer this place. Love, love, love to New York, from me, from him, from us, and from the depths of a place that New York deserves love.