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The world is populated with billions of people of whom you’ll only meet a tiny fraction of. A teeny, tiny miniscule fraction of. How may of these people are worth remembering? Or how many of them are worth talking about extensively in a blog entry?

Or semi extensively. I spent the past few days spending much time with my friend-through-a-friend, Lee Anne, who was visiting NYC from Arizona. I’ve never met her before but we started writing letters last school year and then emails and then…we met? Well. We got to know each other pretty well but nothing compares to meeting people in real life.

I can confidently say that Lee Anne is the nicest, polite, and most sincere I’ve met. It’s not that everyone else sucks, but her characteristics stand out over other people’s. I’m like a heathen compared to her. HEEAATTHEEEN! She has many insane talents that seem to spurt out of nowhere (like writing upside-down and backwards; I will never understand this) and she somehow juggles doing a gazillion things without going insane or needing to inject herself with performance enhancing drugs. SHE’s CARAAAZYYY!

…No, she’s not. She’s extremely OPPOSITE to crazy, which actually makes things more crazy. You see the dilemma? Mrrh?

And now I’m just not making sense. I’ll try to remember what has been going on lately…

On Thursday morning I bused in from NJ to do website stuff with my teacher. I stayed her in apartment for most of the day since Lee Anne was visiting some other friends in the city. My teacher’s apartment is awesome and damn damn damn, I’ll never live in a place like that. But I can strive towards it. Maybe. Her husband is an architect so I guess that helps with the aesthetical quality of the place. So here’s my plan for the future: make lots of money and marry an architect. HAHA. …okay, no. I’ll live alone in a shoebox with my giant penguin and eat my fingernails. It’s cool getting to hang out with teachers in college, methinks. Figuring you like the teachers, that is. In Vassar a bunch of my classmates and I went to my Japanese teacher’s home to prepare Japanese food for a school event and much fun was had, although at the time I wasn’t eating cooked food. Damn.

During a break between leaving my teacher’s place and meeting Lee Anne, I sat in Washington Square Park. I don’t sit in the park often but the sun was out and the weather was pretty nice. I was reading the latest issue of Giant Robot when two random guys came up to my bench and started making conversation. About what? Er. Nothing much. What was I reading, what was my name, what was I…something something…holy crap, they were SPIES! My first thought was “Holy crap, what’s wrong with you guys?” but they didn’t seem intoxicated or dangerous (you know I’m going to disappear someday from a kidnapping). After a while they did leave me, maybe sensing that I wasn’t really into talking to random people. I totally didn’t understand what had happened. Random people don’t talk to me and I sure as hell wouldn’t talk to random people in the park. Were they bored? Weird? SPIES? I remember watching a TV show in England about training spies and one of the tasks for the trainees was to get as much personal information from random people as possible by just making casual conversation. Damn, now that those guys know my last name is Lee (a very rare surname) they’ll be able to dig up all the dirt on me.

Seriously though, what’s up with that? It makes me want to not sit in the park, even though I’ve done it less than 10 times all year.

I met up with Lee Anne for dinner at Lemongrass Grill after walking down Bleeker Street. Mm, Thai foodstuffs. We each got an appetizer and split a main course, which was the first time I ever did that. It worked out well and we got a filling dinner for under $20 for the both of us. We went to Amy’s Bread after that to get some breadsticks and cake for later. :)

The next day we went to midtown (almost uptown) to go to a charity clothing sale. Lee Anne had more luck finding stuff than I did, but I found a great cashmere coat for $40. I don’t know what the original price is but it has to be way over $40. Mmm, feels like being wrapped in SOFT SQUISHY THINGS. Um. Yes. Only problem is that it has shoulder pads. If you didn’t know, shoulder pads ruin otherwise perfectly nice jackets and when you’re born with football player-caliber shoulders (me) you DO NOT WANT SHOULDER PADS! I hope I can rip em out. And burn them. In deathy fire.

Before going to the sale, I wandered down Park Avenue to revisit Fauchon to get foodstuffs for my mum. They wouldn’t let me take photos, which automatically deducts 50 cool points (I’m not sure how many they started off with). It’s a nice store although French places sometimes make me feel…uneasy. As though touching anything with my oily fingertips will mar them and render them unsellable or remove all the tastiness from the insides of the packaging. I have a destructive aura. And going to any nice place in general alone as a teenager makes me feel like I’m intruding upon places where teenagers aren’t welcome. But I’m overly paranoid. I spent something like $30 on a package of loose tea, a box of six chocolates, a large macaron, and three madeleines, which isn’t that bad in my opinion.

Next stop: Pierre Marcolini. My mum loves artisan chocolates, which seem to be chocolates that are sold in stores that look like they sell jewelry. Their truffles are on the expensive side, more than $2 for each one, but it’s a small expense compared to other things (like actual jewelry). God knows I wouldn’t be able to make the chocs. I got a box of five for my mum.

After buying clothes, Lee Anne and I went to Chinatown for some bubble tea at Green Tea on Mott Street. I had never been there before but I heard their tea was especially good. And…it was! IT TASTED LIKE TEA! That doesn’t usually happen as most places tend to oversweeten the drinks. I got a taro shake with tapioca and it tasted like taro. I think. Lee Anne’s milk tea tasted like tea. WOW, alright. (My brain is melting, sorry). We walked up through Little Italy to take the subway from Spring Street.

If you didn’t notice, we skipped lunch, leaving us plenty of room for eating some mega wheaty things from the Country Pancake House in Ridgewood, where the bus stop is. I love pancakes but I decided to try something else. OH, shocker! I got a Belgium waffle with craploads of apples on it and Lee Anne got blueberry pancakes. One problem with the pancake house is that they give you too many pancakes and it kind of ruins the desire to eat pancakes. But the pancakes are so damn good and they taste great as cold leftovers from the fridge. I ate Lee Anne’s pancakes later. (cough)

Me and Lee Anne being all SMILEY, whoa.

We spent Friday night talking about stuff. Things. I don’t get to do that much…talk to people for long stretches of time, that is. I didn’t hang out with people very much during the school year. Because I suck.

Driving Lee Anne to the airport on Saturday was depressing. AIRPORTS ARE DEPRESSING, unless I’m going somewhere. We went to Mitsuwa for lunch and saw Bjork. Unexpectedly. Seeing Bjork in New Jersey isn’t something you expect to happen.

Ahhh Lee Anne! Is not here! I feel very very very lucky to know Lee Anne and that she somehow had the time to come here even though she is busy and will be traveling like mad this summer. And. Maarhah! Penguin! I’m tired. I wish I had a better way to write what I think but…mraah, it wouldn’t come out right anyway. So. Humans! Humans are good. Sometimes.

Comments (2)


Aw, you make me sound like...well, much better than I really am. ;) And trust me, I've just about been going crazy--studying in China next year is sort of my way of chickening out and running away for a bit.

But anyhow, I know what you mean in those last couple sentences. Yes. :) You're awesome! :D

when i was almost a junior in university (or possibly when i was a junior for a second time) i met a friend of a friend's sister and she is sort of my leanne. we met one night in london, then wrote letters and finally a trip to visit her at barnard and we're still great friends five billion years later. thanks for reminding me of that time.

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