The Mary That Ate New York

Ah, what a trip. I spent almost a full week visiting my sister in New York City and now I'm home and ready to blog about it. What did I do? Walked, talked, and ate whatever caught my fancy. NYC is huge, but flat with lots of things to do and see scattered all over. This encourages one to walk from place to place. Soon you realize that your legs are jelly and you've walked at a full-on-move-your-ass pace at least forty blocks and that you've got another forty just waiting for you. With all this exercise, you feel no guilt what so ever about eating one of the finest cupcakes ever to be graced with buttercream icing or munching on a whole set of fried octopus balls coated with BBQ sauce or drinking the finest frozen mojito to ever pass your lips. This is required fuel to get your tired butt home. I loved every minute of it.
I got to see my sister, which was the whole point of the trip for me, and I got my EB fix which will probably have to last me until Christmas. If I get to morose, I'll sneak one of the Jelly Belly's we got at Dylan's Candy Bar or wear my Museum of Sex T-shirt and smile as my memories of watching Puerto Rican Day fireworks, eating beer butt chicken cooked by EB's sweetie, falling asleep in the Museum of Natural History's planetarium, trying to eat freeze dried ice cream quietly while it shatters in my mouth, gawking at Chinatown and Little Italy, and watching Fear Factor contestants eat water buffalo genetalia and then realizing that my sister's meal that evening has a strong resemblance to it will all come flooding back to me. (Was that the largest run-on sentance in history? No, but I certainly gave it my best shot.)
I had a great time. Until my next blog, which will probably come after I've started grad school in Tennessee, happy days, folks!