Last Saturday, after being thrown into a state of lethargy and dreamlike aura, gently succumbing to the waves of motion from the MetroNorth, I finally reached my destination at 9:02 AM. Grand Central basked in it's own iconic golden hall, the celestial fresco practically pulling me up from the ground. With the rest of my band of merry adventure-seekers of the urban jungle that is New York City, we went to the boroughs of Queens, where my mom showed us Jackson Heights, Brooklyn, where we dined in this superb Brazilian restaurant called Miss Favela (seriously recommend it), and last but not least Manhattan. Alphabet City to be more exact. There, the grown folk sipped pisco sours, while my friend and I had Ginger Beers (non-alcoholic of course) that had a nice kick to it. The trip ended with a nice dinner at Industria Argentina (good food, not so good customer service), where I kinda broke my rule about no red meat, and just devoured a delicious skirt steak. As an occasional reader of New York Magazine, a couple weeks ago there was an article surveying how most of young America vie for live the life of a New Yorker. And although I always have, I seriously might have to pull a 180 on my academics so that I can grace the application packets of New York University and (yes, and) Columbia University, my uncle's alma mater.
In other news, the Academy's production of Cabaret is a huge success! All the costumes, effects, actors, set, and music earned an A in my book. Bravo everyone!
Well, readers, unfortunately, we must part ways, I have to start getting ready for Mother's Day. See you when I see you.
Carpe Diem,
Indy
