I can’t hang.
I mean, I can. But not the way I used to.
On Friday I went to dinner with my girlfriends. A catch up session that turned into us closing the restaurant down (if I recall, correctly).
The drinks were two for one.
I love this city, I hate it sometimes, too. In an effort to keep track of my feelings about the Big Apple during my time here I try my best to chronicle them in a letter to this crazy place. Welcome to Dear New York–a series posted monthly on the anniversary of the date I moved here.
All I needed is a sign, God.
Just a sign.
I plead with God daily about many things. But mostly, just for a sign. That this is the right direction. That this is where He would have me go.
My brother’s girlfriend called me a bougie b*tch.
“There is a lot of beauty in this city,” Allan said. “As you know, and now, I think you’re getting to see the,” he paused, “coldness of this place.”