Welcome to New York*

*It’s been kind of sort of trying to get you to leave!**

** After the whole Kimye (did I just say that?) thing, I’m having an existential crisis about Tay and I’m not ready to talk about it unless that means babbling about it to Nick. ANYWAY.

What a week! I was back in the city that never sleeps for a mini week at #fancyclient, which meant that I had to bring my best work clothes, which meant that I had to do a mini-fast on Sunday (after my weekend of treating my body like a dumpster during the first real weekend of festival season) to fit into my new adorable dress which seems to fluctuate two sizes every time I try it on. It’s the dress okay?! It was. The. Dress.

But I digress.

I woke up bright and early (4:15AM Central) on Monday to shower, do my last-minute packing, and hop on a flight. I worked on the plane and went straight to my company’s midtown office to powwow and prep with my boss for the day, until what ended up being until 7:30PM Eastern, partly because he’s nuts and partly because it was a torrential downpour and we didn’t want to walk through it.

Upon check-in, I apparently was a mess hot enough to unintentionally garner pity from my nice concierge lady – in the form of two free drinks. I decided a good workout wasn’t in the cards, so I waded my way through the teen model casting party that apparently was held at my hotel, managed to order food from Seamless (sidebar: if you’re ever in Midtown and craving sushi, get thee some from Tenzan), ran .48 miles (#stillcounts) while I waited for it, then ate and watched one episode of Jane the Virgin before I crashed for the night like it was my job.

After waking up and knocking out another long day, I needed to be in public with people who weren’t telling me what to do, but didn’t have the energy to make meaningful conversation, so I went to Tanner Smith’s, a cute little speakeasy-style bar I found on Yelp and had a great cocktail and an underwhelming cheeseburger. Long story short? When in doubt, order the cheese plate.

Despite the meh burger, the fries and cocktail (Brown Eyed Girl) were on point.

Despite the meh burger, the fries and cocktail (Brown Eyed Girl) were on point.

When I got back, I took advantage of my second free glass of vino from the hotel, knocked out some more client work, and settled in for more Jane. For those of you judging my choice in television, all I’ll say is don’t knock it ’til you try it. But I definitely stayed up late enough to sleep in more than would allow me to run the full distance I’d planned. Still, morning runs in Central Park do not suck, once you get past the smell of fermented trash on the roads.

Another long day at the client and a trafficky cab to LGA left me what I thought was just enough time to board my plane. SYKE! It was delayed again. And because the United terminal at that airport is a joke (there is truly not a single location to purchase a glass of wine or a beer), I took the little shuttle thingy to the much nicer Delta terminal, where I did in fact order the plate of meats and cheeses that I so dearly missed out on the night before. As a side bar: if you have spare time at LGA and are stuck in a crap terminal, TAKE THE SHUTTLE! There are other worlds to be seen in that supposed hell hole, and waiting for a plane to show up is substantially easier when you’re full of Sauvignon Blanc, prosciutto, and burrata from one of the many techy restaurants hidden from you at the airport.

Savvy B, prosciutto, burrata, plus toast points and figs to go along with my "work."

Savvy B, prosciutto, burrata, plus toast points and figs to go along with my "work."

As I near the end of this little story, I realize the only point to it is that when you’re on the road, you can’t really count on anything to go the way you’re hoping it to, and flexibility is key. And when in doubt? Be basic.

Cheers,