Did you have a good long weekend? It’s such a lovely feeling to be at Wednesday already, gearing up for mid-week drinks. If only all Mondays could be spent sitting on the balcony reading Marie Claire and planting out the rosemary.
When I was a teenager, bank holidays were the Greatest Thing Ever. Hordes of adolescents would descend on Kingston and sit around outside pubs on the river drinking shandies. After a drink or two people would get brave and admit their secret crushes, then their friends would gossip about the secret crushes, and soon, everyone including the secret crush would know. Oh the drama. He knows I like him. So if he comes over to sit by me does that mean he likes me to or is he just sitting? Such are the complexities of teenage romance.
Here’s one thing that I didn’t know when I was a teenager, and I wish I had; if a boy sends you a letter with “love†at the end that’s not an accident; he Likes you.
Hope that clears things up a bit. Continue reading
People mocked me when I told them I was going to a Justin Bieber movie viewing with Champagne. And I’ll tell you what I told them; honestly, if you haven’t seen the movie, you simply don’t know what you’re missing. 
Last weekend we had a redo of 
Apparently the world will be ending on the 21st. It’s not a dead cert by any means, but it’s probably worth eating steak for dinner with someone you adore, just in case.
The weather in New York is hardly the semi tropical heat wave of last year, where my family celebrated my sister’s birthday at an out-door table in Pastis and walked along the Highline in our sandals. Nevertheless, circumstances have conspired to put me in a tropical frame of mind.
Something that Never Happens totally Happened this weekend.
It really feels as though spring has finally, joyfully, arrived in New York.