My sister Quinn came to visit us this weekend. And I tried to convince her to give up her life in Memphis and just live with us but she mumbled something about her loving husband, a mortgage and a ritzy law firm job.
But wouldn’t she rather stay with us and enjoy a jet set life in the city that never sleeps? Oh right, we’re moving to the burbs soon. Ok, so wouldn’t she rather stay with us and enjoy a jet set life just a 1/2 hour from the city that never sleeps, easily accessible by train or car with great public schools and lots of outdoor space?
I guess not.
The weekend included wine, margaritas and some kind of drink called a gin-gin mule. Of course, this gin-gin mule came from one of those hip New York City bars that has no sign and a really long line outside. Rick whined about the line, saying he was too old for this sort of nonsense.
But we stayed. And Rick can thank me anytime for that gin-gin mule hangover the next morning.
On Sunday, we headed to the Central Park zoo.
My favorite part of the zoo was feeding the animals and then holding my hand up to Rick’s face and saying, “Smell my hand. It smells like llama saliva.”
Also at the zoo, they have these super cute turtle shells and you can pose inside them. Of course, my girls REFUSED to pose. So I either had to resort to snapping photos of other people’s children or Quinn and I could jam ourselves inside and pretended to swim like turtles.
The choice was so obvious.
My Aunt Terrell and her husband Dana also came along for the day. Terrell just happens to be my Hanky Panky dealer (cutest, most comfortable thongs ever) and she arrived with plenty of merchandise to choose from.
Suddenly it sounds sort of shady that my Aunt comes into New York City and sells me lacy thongs out of a backpack.
One final note, we ran into an old friend on Jones Street this weekend.
He’s our friend, Erik.
His job currently has him working in New York City while his wife and three kids are still living just outside San Francisco. That’s a 3,000 mile commute. This guy deserves a martini. And his wife deserves a martini, a margarita, a gin-gin mule and whatever the hell else she wants.