COLD

With the help of my good friend Jenny - and her superior upper body strength - I have achieved air conditioner success. Behold.























A thing of beauty, isn't she? This really is going to greatly improve my quality of life in NYC, for a few reasons.

1. She's cold.
2. She blocks out 95% of the street noise.
3. She has a remote and a sleep timer!

The guy also sold me a 2-year warranty plan for half price, so this bitch is gonna be in my life for a while. Boys may come and go, but AC Sasha (this is what I have decided to name her, just now) is here to stay.

Life is good right now. I feel happy. My job is going well - I'm starting to really like and appreciate what I do - and New York, once again, is proving to never get old. There's always something new to discover, new to learn, new to love. I've been to a lot of cities in this country, and nowhere feels like home like New York does.

Speaking of traveling, I have decided I will travel out of the country by the time I am 25. I never have, which is completely insane. Jenny was telling me at dinner tonight about a couple of her friends who are enrolled in a "life abroad" program where you basically set aside $5,000 and this company hooks you up with a job and a place to live and all that stuff in a foreign country. It's like study abroad for adults. I want to do it. I would love to pack my bags and leave the country for six months - maybe even a year - and live somewhere totally foreign to me. I would love to blog about it, and be a real journalist for a year, writing about all the new things I would discover. Maybe it will be my 25th birthday present to myself.

Another thing I've decided, in one of my brilliant shower epiphanies: if and when I ever decide to get married, I want my hubby-to-be to call me his "beyoncé." I mean, it rhymes with fiancée, and I bet in everyday conversation - "my beyoncé and I went to a movie this weekend," "my beyoncé makes badass salads," "my beyoncé made me put a ring on it" - it sounds *just like fiancée. Like I bet people wouldn't even notice. Anyway, the man I deem worthy of marriage will have no problem doing this, and he will do it willingly, because he will find it hilarious. Because it is.

Sigh. Until next time.

HOT

This is what the surface of the sun looks like.
















Pretty, right? Well it's also how my room felt last night. As a result, I tossed and turned all night, totaling what I approximate to be about two hours of sleep. Because I am a total g'maw and I need at *least 6 hours of sleep every night to function well, I have made the decision every New Yorker eventually makes, no matter how much they insist they "really don't need one."

Tonight, I will venture uptown and buy an air conditioner. Of course I made this decision on the one day a week I also wanted to wear heels to work. So I'll be in PC Richard's in my kitten heels and cocktail dress, lugging around a box that will probs be huge, and praying that somehow I can get it into my apartment by myself.

That's pretty quintessential single girl in Manhattan though, right? I am also gonna have to figure out how to get it in my window, like approximately now, because it's 90 degrees outside right now and my apt is going to be so hot when I get home that I might get the vapors (pronounced: vay-puhs).

Wish me luck. Updates to come later.

Until next time.