Post 2: Vowels and smells

Just got back from drinking in Chelsea – across the street from where Sid stabbed Nancy – and the East Village, where many other interesting things have happened as well. And I am safe at home.

Went to see the Stock Exchange for the first time today, since it is just around the corner. It is adorned right now with the biggest American flag I do believe I have ever seen.

Not much else to report, so I will do so in short form:

1. Doors and gates that open onto busy sidewalks will often emphatically say “NO MENUS” – which actually means exactly what you think it does. And, showcasing the efficacy of the city government, many streets and intersections now have signs warning “no honking”.

2. Grace and I have taken to pointing out smells to each other. Raw fish. Coffee. Men’s cologne. Poo. On Wednesday, everything in the city, from the bowels of the subway to the 4th floor of the school, smells deep-fried. Don’t know why.

3. My vowels are already getting longer. Swear to Gaaad. And I’ve only been here 6 days.

Miss you all.