This trip was not for tourists.
Friday was for sweet Midwestern gals who have no shame about ordering enormous cupcakes. (I don’t care if they’re trendy and passé. I LOVE cupcakes.)
Saturday was for walks on the beach and posing like we were on a reality show. That show will be called Jersey Shore: The Nerd Edition. You need proof? See: brown hair, glasses, scarves and intellect.
Saturday was also a day for mermaids.
It was a weekend to drink too much rum punch, to walk around Manhattan in the rain, to eat at the same restaurant two days in a row, to sleep on fold-out couches and cots and in a bed shared with a friend. To laugh about old stories and to make new stories. To hear about travels and jobs and careers and plans, grad school and houses and future babies. To feel the movement of life. To connect and re-connect. To love and be loved.
And it was good.
Post-edit: The sad thing about the Internet is that this entry previously brought many Google searchers here because of the mention of the, ahem, lack of clothing on the sculptures and Jersey Shore girls. I’m hoping some slight text changes improve this issue (which is to say, sorry you got directed here if you were looking for nudie pics). Also, several photos have disappeared. Sigh.