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Of Mice And New York Men

On a plane to New York City, a few thoughts circle through my head.

  1. I have no idea what to do there.
  2. I hope I don’t look like a tourist.
  3. The hotel is gonna be awesome.
  4. Food.

Number two became a spiraling thought that stayed near and dear throughout the entire four-day New York City excursion. I packed my finest blacks, new striped slip-ons, some essential hair product. But as we drove to the airport earlier that morning – something like 6am – I realized I forgot a crucial accessory. My giant, midnight black Ray Ban wayfarers. Fail.


I’ve never been a New York lover.

More of a New York stresser.


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    helium creative