I don’t know if it’s because my life came caving in around me a couple of weeks ago, subsequently skewing my perspective entirely and instilling a deep driving desperate need to run (far far) away from home for ever and ever, or if it’s because my parents are New York natives so it runs thickly through my blood, or if it’s honest to goodness genuine lust. But I’m smitten.
If Brooklyn had a body I’d want it hard.
And it does. And I do.
And here are just a few of the reasons why:
It seems people leave memos on the dry-erase to let each other know when the last time the cats were fed.
What exactly is mental hygiene? And how can I get the commissioner for an assessment? Because…
Alive freaks. As opposed to the other kind.
In Montreal we have “Be Ware Of Dog” signs. In New York…
Honestly, what’s not to love?