Patternreview.com's 13th birthday party. We toured the McCall's pattern company, and there was fabric and wine and conversation and cake, and more fabric, and more wine, and a good time was had by all.
I treated myself to Amtrak home because I didn't feel like spending 2+ hours on the bus, but the train stopped somewhere around Trenton and I still ended up spending 2+ hours getting home, just in slightly more comfort.
I always look forward to going to New York, because I always go for some fun purpose: a play, an exhibit, a meet-up with friends. And I always come home grateful that I don't live there.
Manhattan wears me out. Too many people, too much traffic, too much noise. Too much much. Every time I go, I come home a little less hostile about Philadelphia, at least for a while. Here I may only be 4 feet from my neighbors, but it's better than 4 centimeters while trying to cross a street. I think New Yorkers have a bad reputation simply because they're guarding what little precious personal space there is left in that teeming city.
It usually takes a day or two for my brain to settle back down, to a point where I can hear myself think, to be able to write or come up with anything out of the ordinary.
I know people who live there. I know people who did, and wish they still did.
I will never be one of them.