Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Live from New York's Upper East Side

I'm sure he never takes the bus ...where you’re never more than 100 feet from a Bugaboo. Or a Starbucks. Or a purse dog.

Work is crazy and Internet access is spotty (read: pirated) so that’s my excuse for not posting or reading.

Hope to catch up soon.

PS Julie: I walked by Gate 210 the other morning and felt a great pang of homesickness. And then I was all, “This is the Port Authority Bus Terminal. Get over yourself.”


mothergoosemouse said...

Gate 212. (Yes, I am officially the biggest dork on the planet.)

Seriously though, that gate was awesome because there was only ONE line and no jackasses got away with cutting in line. Remember how the line would extend down the escalator and we'd watch people climb the stairs, trying to circumvent the long line, and they'd just end up coming right back down and getting in the line anyway?

Like I was saying, biggest dork on the planet.

Lara said...

purse dogs are just wrong. seriously. wrong.

Julie Pippert said...

Understandable (all of it)...except the purse dogs. ;)

Karianna said...

Hey, I get homesick for NYC when I see the street I puked on while morning-sick with my son.

Wish I were there.

mayberry said...

How could I get that wrong! *hangs head in shame*

Magpie said...

Hey - whatcha doing here? And those Bugaboos? All over the City, not just on the UES.

Amber said...

Just doing the BlogHer tour here...

'Round these parts, we have stuffed purse bunnies (the bunny, not the purse). At least that's what my mom gave my daughter for Easter and she can't leave home without her latest accessory. I think it is payback for all those times I left the house in my boxers. On cool Canadian days, I was REALLY hip and wore long johns underneath..

aimee / greeblemonkey said...

Purse dogs make me seriously laugh.

Heather said...

If it weighs less than 40 pounds is it really a dog? Purse dogs are just so wrong.

Lisa said...

Sigh... Whine... I wanta be in Manhattan tooo!

Lady M said...


Yeah, I have some odd nostaglia moments too. For instance, when I see apple-juice in little glass apple-shaped bottles, it reminds me of my first job out of college, when we worked so many hours that our managers bought us whatever food we wanted to keep us at our desks. My request was the apple juice, but only in apple shaped bottles.

Missing the Port Authority Bus Terminal seems positively sane, after that one.

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