"I'm naht sittin' on ya head!"

Okay so for the fifth day in a row, I woke up during the post meridian hours. Today, the off-duty pastry chef and I set out on a houseware adventure. My fabulous coworkers in L.A. sent me off with an incredibly generous gift certificate to Zabar's where I can eat, shop and feel like the Kosher Jew I know I am on the inside. That was our first destination. I bought nary a houseware but I did spend eight whole dollars on four slices of nova lox. I then spent 75 cents on a mediocre bagel only to discover an H&H next door after we left. We stopped at a Starbucks for Karen's chai latte while I sat us next to a student who very coldly made room for us at the window counter. I think she'd had enough of my crinkly wax paper smoked salmon madness when she made like she was going to leave but actually moved to a table near the front of the store. I devoured the soft lox and pedestrian poppyseed bagel. Karen sprung for cream cheese from the barista and I sipped fresh squeezed OJ. Sunshine in a bottle.

We turned south and went to Macy's at Herald Square so that I could lay around more but this time with the focused goal of purchasing a bed for my closet/ room. On the crowded train, people were meeting people in a squishy afternoon melee. Passengers got on and stayed on, every stop filling the train with more dark winter coats and more gloved hands reaching for brushed metal poles. I spotted an Asian girl with bad blond hair and bright blue eyeshadow. I dubbed her "The Mermaid." A lady with a seat next to the door became agitated and started snapping at a man forced to stand next to her. The entire car laughed when he retaliated with "I'm naht sittin' on ya head! Quit complaining. At least you gaht a seat." Pardon the New York-ness of it all.

Macy's keeps the original wooden escalator on certain floors and we marveled at the feeling of it. The ricketiness, the rumble of wooden slats a nostalgic change from sleek steel. This is where Macy's began and it was unlike any I'd visited on the West Coast. This one had a Louis Vuitton in it! I ordered my bed without much fanfare and we celebrated with Auntie Anne's cinnamon sugar pretzel sticks. An entire island covered with real pretzel salesmen with carts on every corner and we get ours with a thick coating of cinnamon and sugar from a chain of shops typically found in sterile shopping malls across America. Pardon our L.A.-ness.

We shopped further at Daffys where Karen met a old man searching for a Valentine gift. We then met our friend at H&M and headed for Korean BBQ at Shilla. Delicious kalbi, chewy buckwheat noodles in cold broth, orange wedges for dessert. I burped the garlicky burp of Korean evidence all night. Later, I actually laughed so hard I farted while Karen folded her laundry in the living room. I'm not ashamed.

Before we headed back to the apartment, we made a stop at Duane Reade and picked up snacks and dishwasher detergent. On the platform at 34th Street, Karen tempted me with strawberry creme Peeps. Never has pink airpuffed sugar dipped in red sugar been so delicious. A stranger noticed our chewy treasure and made a comment about how good they looked. Karen offered him one and although he declined he remarked that she was generous and that it was a good thing. We're friendly. Pardon our L.A.-ness.

The night was topped off with Reese's Peanutbutter cookies and cereal for me. And some dark chocolate Ferrero Rochers. "When we are happy, we both get fat." (1)

(1) From the song "Life in a Nutshell" by the Barenaked Ladies.