You might not think it possible, but I assure you, it is a real -- if enjoyable -- condition: an overdose of honey. It can afflict you when you throw together pancakes for breakfast but forget the syrup, and are forced to resort to what other sweet things you have on hand, and then at the opposite end of the day, you dine at a Cretan restaurant whose name, S'agapo, translates to "I love you" and whose appetizers and desserts alike come preserved in delicious, delicious amber.
In between doses of honey, how did Mr. Ben and I celebrate turning six? By going to PS 1, of course! and then to the Museum of the Moving Image, where after playing around with the interactive exhibits we saw a 35mm print of the last film Orson Wells made, a Godard-ish essay/documentary called F for Fake.
The best part about the day though was that we were blessed with Good Subway Luck. If ever you have need to burrow into Queens, make sure you first appease the right spirits, because if the G comes speedily, and then the R does too, and then again, and THEN, to top it off, the 3, you will have a completely different day than if you're stuck waiting 20 frozen minutes for the privilege of riding on each.
On another note, I now have an rx. I haven't filled it yet, but I will, and then I will be SuperEster, or so I'm told. If I only become Ester-Who-Can-Make-It-Thru-the-Wedding-Planning, that'll be good too.
Hey, Maybe Don't Walk Up to AOC and Ask if She's Pregnant
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I was in brooklyn this past weekend! (if only briefly). I spent most of the time in manhattan w/ my friend who attends nyu. We walked across the b. bridge and I'm sure at some point I waved in your general direction, sort of a several mile sweep just to cover it. And I've never made more effective use of scarves in my life.
aw, i love that view from the Brooklyn Bridge. i'm glad you got to see it :)
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