Other People's Lives Revisited

Today I write to you from Central Park West in New York City. No pets. Just two little adorable boys. (No, not MINE). I'm at my childhood friend's apartment - she and I grew up together on Long Island. Her mother and my mother were the best of friends, her brother and my brother were the best of friends, and she and I were the best of friends. All left early this morning, so I'm left alone in the apartment to eat all of their food. So far, four vanilla sandwich cookies and a pot of coffee. Oh, and a handful of Puffin cereal. I see a New York style binge coming on. I can binge in New York like nowhere else.
Went to the Lucky jeans store yesterday and got lucky with a couple of pairs of jeans that I think SSM guy will like. So hopefully this little junk food craziness this morning won't mean that I have to go back to the store today and return them.
Last night we reminisced about our childhood classmates and the weird-ass names they all have. What was with the Jewish, Long Island parents anyway?
Later today I'll be appearing - well sitting in the "green" room - on the Colbert report with my very beautiful, high-fashion publicist friend whose author is appearing on the show. High-fashion friend has nice clothes and can look very New Yorky, so I'm sure to feel even more frumpy. Then, thank goodness, I'll be heading back to the bubble. Lately leaving the bubble is terribly annoying to me.
So my state of mind today is as it usually is in New York. Annoyed. It's hot and muggy and I'm sweating like a pig, I feel fat and frumpy. Everyone else is glamorous and New Yorky. It never ceases to amaze me how people who live in a concrete jungle and work 24 hours a day can be in such great shape. I can't measure up in this city, and I think in the future I'll just avoid it at all costs.
My foot and shoulder have been bothering me more than ever. I'm sure I'm going to have to have a pin placed in my bone which will set me back on running for like a year. My New York state of mind ain't good.