If you say this most children will yell Disney World.  They are wrong.  Jeremy will tell you that it’s Home Depot (which is true in some circles).  However, the happiest place on Earth right now is Kenneth Cole.  Oh yes, Kenneth Cole.  Now Douche-Bag roommate questioned me on this to which I replied, “have you been?”  He answered in the negative thus proving my point.  Not that it’s the happiest place on Earth solely because he hasn’t been (though it does add to it), but because he would never go someplace that happy.  And quite frankly how could he question it if he can’t prove it isn’t.

Anyway I went yesterday because that giant 70% off sign wouldn’t let me stay out and there was this pair of boots.  Did you know that my feet are shrinking?  Seriously.  I got the boots in a 7.5.  7.5!   When I got the super sexy shoes (which by the way the boots are just the boot version of those) it was an 8.  Creepy man.  Creepy.  I also picked up a fabulous top because it is the happiest place on Earth.

I work with people from all over.  This is cool.  It means I get to make jokes about my co-workers riding goats to school (not true, they only rode the goat in the back yard for fun when they were young), but it also means that they freak out when it gets cold.

We got maybe, maybe an inch of snow.  PANIC!  Run for the hills.  Oh my Jesus there is snow on the ground.  I hope that everyone stocked up on rations.  The world is ending.  Scarves and mittens are strewn about from people running to their apartments.  AHHH.

Today a many o show went on sale at noon.  I made sure that I got the tickets that I *had* to have, namely Cold War Kids* and the Black Keys.  I did well, I logged onto Ticketmaster and made my two purchases in a matter of 3 minutes.  Seriously I was in line at Starbucks longer this morning.

Did I tell you of my love for Starbucks recently?  And I don’t mean my recent love of Starbucks, but rather have I recently informed you of my ever-lasting and ongoing love of Starbucks?  You see, after my office moved 3 whole blocks away I changed Starbucks.  The old trusty one on 33rd was no longer on my way, instead I ventured out into this brave new world and found the lovely 39th & Park Starbucks.

The baristas (yes I know they aren’t really baristas) are nice and make sure that I get not necessarily what I order, but rather I what I need.  What do I mean?  Everyday I say, “Triple venti mocha.”  It just comes out.  The guys there know that what I really want is a skim mocha with light whip with an extra shot if they have it.  Yesterday I paid $0.54 for this.  Yes, I love my new Starbucks.

*I missed the show in October due to the family emergency as well as another show at the Apollo.  Those tickets look up sadly at me from the ticket envelop, but alas it wasn’t meant to be (in October).

JennieD was in town over the weekend.  We took a trip out to Brooklyn to visit the supply store.  I picked up a map of my environs (I need to know where all the manhole escape routes, invisible car parking and time-space ripples are) and a jar of Justice (no pulp).  We stopped at the Burrito Bar for lunch on the way.  Those burritos were HUGE.  It made Chipotle look like baby food.

So…also a kid from Georiga was in town.  I hung out with him on Friday.  We went to a bar that I am not a regular (this was very good).  You see, though it wasn’t his first time in the city he was pulling some stupid South Georgia bullshit.  No matter what you think you can NOT pour your own liquor into your glass at the bar.  That’s a no-no.  It’s a damn good thing this kid is attractive and it wasn’t my bar else I would have to pull a disappearing act on his ass.

Last night I visited Chedder at the bar.  After her shift I ended up sitting with Judson’s girlfriend at the bar.  This is important because since it was early and we were bored we ended up playing M.A.S.H.  Of course Judson’s girlfriend had no idea how to play and Judson & I were responsible for taking charge.  I bring this up because 1. apparently Judson & I are 13 year-old girls and 2. the results were quite funny.  I will live in a shack in Chicago, married to Jett and be working as a stripper.  How fitting.

Am I dating?  Am I not dating?  This is a question I’ve been asked repeatedly over the past couple of weeks.  The answer is…um I dunno. Do I go out?  Yes.  Do I hang out with people of the opposite sex?  Yes.  Is there occassionally some swapping of bodily fluids?  Yes.  Am I dating…um I dunno.

Here’s the thing; in dating this implies some sort of agreed upon day, time, and schedule.  I do not have any of these.  There is never a phone call three or four days in advance asking to meet at a specified location for a specified activity.  However I tend to run into people when I’m out and hang out with them almost exclusively.  For example last Monday I stopped in for a beer and Cheese Guy was there.  We hung out for a while and then walked to the subway–I might have walked him to the subway.  This was not planned.  There has never been a phone call made about whether or not we will show up at the bar–it’s just a given.  (Of course I once had an entire relationship like this–see Tuesday Guy).

Now, here’s the thing.  This type of thing happens once a week or more.  So my social life when I do head out is quite full.  You all remember the Canadian correct?  Then there is Cheese Guy and a variety of investment bankers (which I will no longer hang out with due to their lack of personality), not to mention friends popping in and out.  So to answer your question: no I don’t think I’m dating.  I don’t think I ever really dated-was just engaged that one time.

Motorcycle Mike and his lovely bride were in town over the weekend.  We met up after they attempted to go to Rockefeller Center and ice skate; falling down, trying to get up and falling again to land in a heap and kiss as it started to snow.  They actually gave up trying to actually go ice skating due to the massive crowds after 30 minutes.  Anyway we met up in Murray Hill for a couple of drinks and caught up.  It was Motorcycle Mike’s first trip into the city.  He loved riding the subway and staring at all the people.  I realized that I don’t even do that anymore and the city doesn’t seem all magical to me.  Oh well.

We ended up meeting for breakfast on Sunday as well.  I had a huge wrap that I couldn’t finish.  Yay West Village breakie places.  And with that he and his bride were back on an airplane to good old NC.  Side note: did anyone else notice that 90%of UNC’s games are on an ESPN channel.  Yay for following really good basketball teams.

So I went to the Vampire Weekend show on Wednesday.  It was pretty fantastic.  I got there way to early, but got a kick-ass spot to stand: right in the middle of all the teenagers.  This was my view more or less.  I only felt old until I turned around and saw the rest of the old folks with their PBRs in hand.

The Teenagers opened for them.  They remind me of King Missle a little bit.  I truly enjoyed their set, so much so that I went out and bought the album.

Facebook redeemed itself; sort of.  Lots of friends from the great state of North Carolina will be in the city soon: yay!  With this discovery came the rumor of a brunch place that features a bacon bar.  That’s right boys and girls a bar that features nothing but bacon: sweet smoked hickory, dry-rubbed, baked, fried, grilled bacon.  Well, the place isn’t open yet.  It makes me want to write to the Times and give them a little teenie, tiny piece of my mind for announcing it before it is actually open.  So I will make a special little trip down to my old neighborhood every couple of weeks just to check on it because it is bacon.

Then today I got an email.  Things on sale.  I like things.  So I opened it.  Poor choice on my behalf.  I saw it.  I had to have it.  It will be here on the 17th.