A girl can dream

There are hopes that my apartment will be equipped for something called "the Internet" starting this Saturday. This might push my love-hate relationship with it over towards pure adoration. After all, we've already got a dishwasher.

There are pros and cons to living on Mars. The pros are the waterfront, the proximity to Tribeca, and the fact that to compensate for the Mars-like quality, buildings put laundry machines practically at your doorstep. The latest con, meanwhile, was the fact that a couple nights ago Jo and I arrived nearly home, late, with groceries, including frozen goods, but could not actually get to our apartment for quite some time because the entire city's police force and what looked to be the national guard was preventing everyone from crossing the West Side Highway. Reason given: "the President." As suspected, where I go, Obama goes too. For some reason, his passing through had to make it impossible for the population of these towers - equivalent to that of a medium-sized town - to start cooking dinner before 9pm. We kept getting shepherded to various locales that were not our apartment or close, before I started announcing plans to vote Republican. I've been unable to get home due to visiting dignitaries before - once in high school, the Pope blocked off the Upper East Side - but living on what is essentially the wrong side of a highway (although again, the waterfront's lovely) has its downside.