I was lucky enough to spend my Labor Day weekend in NYC with some of my best girlfriends. We, the "England Girls" met on a summer study abroad in Stratford Upon Avon, studying Shakespeare during the summer of 2001. We spent a lot of time getting into trouble in jolly old England, and then when we came home, we got together once a week to eat pizza and get Diddy Reese cookies and watch Friends and talk girl talk. My England Girls were one of the bright spots of my junior year of college, which was tough overall. I can remember one week calling and saying that I wasn't up for dinner (because I was having boy drama) and at 7:45 they knocked on the door bearing pizza, cookies, flowers and love. Then Kat gave me a hand massage and Becca rubbed my head as I cried. They're good girlfriends.
Four of us currently live in SoCal, and have made it a priority to get together every couple of months. Two years ago, we convinced our NYC branch (Rebecca) to come out for a weekend. She's been in New York since graduation, and we've always promised to visit, but never have. UNTIL NOW.
Anne and I took the red eye on Thursday night, which was a mostly unpleasant experience. The girl in the window seat got up FOUR TIMES. I wanted to trip her on her way out. Pristine arrived on a red eye Friday morning, so we weren't out to raise hell (didn't have the energy!) And we weren't out to spend our time standing in lines for tourist junk. Instead, we spent a lot of time exploring Becca's neighborhood (Brooklyn) and eating. We went to Central Park and also, the Highline Park in Chelsea, so it was nice to see things that weren't buildings or streets. We also got a chance to visit the Met, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, and we spent a lot of time in hipster shops. I bought pink pearls, a fake Chanel handbag, heart shaped pink sunglasses, and a vintage fur coat. IT.WAS.A.BLAST.
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