Alas, the time has come that I must leave this fair city and return to the lands I
loathe love the most.
Today my teary-eyed self will wake up at the crack of hot-diggity-dawn to don some NY-inspired ensemble and board the plane back to reality
woops there goes gravity.
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked. He's so mad, but he won't give up that ...
This city has, however, taught me a couple of things in the few short days it has housed me.
Numero uno: Don’t rely on others.
You gotzta figure your own shiz out – whether that be directions on the Subway (thank you random knowledgeless direction-givers … an “I don’t know” would have proved more helpful),
cab-destinations (Wait, I’m sorry sir - you don’t know where Brooklyn is?),
or finalized plans (NYers are a wee bit selfish…I fit in splendidly).
Deux: I really really really really (Xs infinity +1 everything you say)
need to be rich. And I mean, magistrate/emperor/pharoh/czar/totalitarian rich – none of this Oprah crap.
There are just too many things out there that would look much better on me than the plastic mannequin from which they're obviously longing to be freed.
That being said, I realize today's post is rather style sparse (the only fashion-related thing I did was unphotographable - Twitter peeps know the deal).
Never fear - hopefully I'll get some narcissism-motivated outfit picks up soon, but for now, just enjoy Williamsburg, South Street Seaport, Broadway, and some other touristy NYC sights Gabby-face-free while you can.
This mug won't hide for long.