So we flew to NYC last week for four days of nonstop Americana. There were $2 hot dogs in Central Park. Kandinsky at the Guggenheim. We got have drinks with Jenne. We missed Kirna Zabête and Scoop, but I did my homework beforehand and found a Hollywould sample sale not far from our hotel. A search for all things un-Parisian led us to Lucky Cheng's. My husband had his first brown bagged beer at a would-be speakeasy. I kept an eye out for endearingly bizarre things you'd find in a place like NYC, like the Venezuelan restaurant that turns into a gay salsa bar after midnight. Or the crazily cheery man who yelled "Yes!" and gave high-fives to all who would accept.

In school, I once had an ill-fated poetry assignment which kept me away from all writing instruments for weeks. But that doesn't mean I won't put my photos to poetry for you now. Ahem...