And spoonbills.

This week has been way too crazy to process in any other fashion besides itemization. I'm not sorry, and you'll have to deal with it.

Wednesday (last week): Hit the nadir of my homesickness and big city blues, proving to myself and everybody around me that I am tenderhearted like whoa - and affirming the observation of a friend who would know that applying at Momofuku would have been a pretty bad idea. Ate a truly awful slice of pizza at a restaurant owned and staffed by the truly well-meaning in Jersey City. Spent the rest of the day back in Manhattan, bumming around Lincoln Center and pretending to be interested in spa promotions so vacationing hippies would keep talking to me. Yeah, more than 8 million people live here, and yeah, it really gets that lonely.

Thursday: Got my hair cut by a sweet Californian Aveda student at their Spring Street campus, which I have to say was probably the best $20 I've spent in recent memory and definitely the best $20 I've ever spent on my hair. I haven't worn a bob since fifth grade; I've never had a short haircut that didn't make my head look like a triangle. Rachel, if you're reading, you did really excellent work. I was so inspired by this haircut that I walked 40 blocks down Broadway, applying for job after job after job. Rachel, I wish you could cut my hair all the time, but we both know that is not how Aveda works.

Friday: Took a walk through Central Park with Jeremy and ended up at the Met, an odd choice since his ex girlfriend works there, but I think he wanted to take me someplace with a little class after sending me to Brooklyn and calling to cancel our lunch date while I was on the train. Anyway, good times were had despite being on the lookout for a brunette with green eyes and a taste for boys' hearts - we saw the Superheroes exhibit and then debated about the difference between art as ritual and art as abstraction while trying to decide which New Guinean mask terrified us more. Then it was up to the roof to see the cocktail drinkers, the Koons exhibit, and the sunset (listed in order of amusement afforded). Following that we met up with some folks in Chinatown for dinner at Nice Green Bo, where the scallion pancakes and crab/pork dumplings were completely worth waking up with night sweats from all the MSG. Seriously, go there. You will be sorry, but you will not learn your lesson.

Saturday: Dinner with Harry at Ruby Tuesday's in Times Square, where all the plates are rectangular and the entire waitstaff is about to be the next Broadway sensation. Harry really likes Ruby Tuesday's. I guess I see his point, but did they have to add a gratuity to our check? It would have been nice to decide for myself if I wanted to give our waiter %18, no matter how sculpted his arms or how much gel he had in his hair. The night got way better, though, as we made our way over to Gramercy to see some friends of Harry's in a ballet-butoh fusion performance where girls danced with hand puppets and desecrated the flag. Girls wearing wedding dresses and red, white, and blue face-paint.

Sunday: Went out for The Hold Steady at the first of JellyNYC's Brooklyn Pool Parties this summer. Made awkward conversation with a very polite Swedish man who had never heard of The Hold Steady but had been sent to the concert by a host who was too busy to entertain him. He and I lost track of each other, though, when it started completely fucking pouring. J Roddy and the Business were high-energy but repetitive and of course The Hold Steady kicked ass, but the real heroes of the afternoon were The Loved Ones, who played through the rain despite the risk of imminent electrocution. Being surrounded by sweaty, drunk, soaked moshers and crowd-surfers made me feel 14 again. It barely even mattered that The Loved Ones play slightly less interesting music than Good Charlotte.

Monday: The Fancy Food Show! Basically what happened is that I posed as a journalist, having been invited by a real journalist, and ate until I could barely breathe. Best food sampled? Lobster mac and cheese. Most randomly ubiquitous? Aloe vera juice (being offered for some reason by five different countries on both levels of the convention center). Biggest letdown? Freesecake. Most amoral? Vosge's chocolate-covered bacon. There were also shortbreads, barbecue sandwiches, flavored honeys, and exotic potato chips in abundance, all of which made me very happy.

Tuesday: Digesting.

Wednesday (yesterday): Incidentally the one-month anniversary of my arrival in New York. Group interview at Urban Outfitters. I know, I know. It was bizarre on too many levels to enumerate and I'll probably write a separate entry just about that, but for now let's just say that we sat in a circle and answered questions about our favorite bands. It was like a casting call for an Upper West Side season of "The Real World". Everyone in attendance had a Dream. There were two dancers, one rapper/model, a jazz pianist, a med student, and a Guns n' Roses fan working on his first novel.

I was nervous, I'll admit it, but the people in charge decided I was hip enough to work there. Which is really pretty amazing. In the span of a week I have evolved from a jobless wreck who would get all teary-eyed for hours at the Florida birds exhibit in the Natural History Museum to one of the city's pre-eminent purveyors of cool, and someone who can afford groceries at that! I even get discounts. But I won't lie to you; I will probably still spend my time staring at stuffed egrets.