Friday, I got up lateish, N made me a truly healthy kale, lentils and onion breakfast, which I'm going to recreate back home, and then I set out for some serious shoppage. I love to walk in the City. Sadly, it was utterly pissing it down, but I walked from 72nd down to 28th, and back to 59th (then I got a taxi as it was getting late).
The rain is everywhere. The snow is piled up at the side of the pavement, and you can see tide marks on nearly everyone's troushers, around knee level. It's wet. When you go into stores, security guards give you a bag for your umbrella. People comment on your "cute accent". Everyone uses the word safe a lot; "safe trip", "safe weekend", and not in the London street way. I was last in New York before 9/11, and it's changed. People are calmer, friendlier, warmer. While waiting at the beauticians on 30th, I fell into a long conversation with a woman who'd had a double manicure/pedicure because she was going away for the weekend, and when we said goodbye, that's what she said: "safe weekend."
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