in NY

It's incredibly muggy here, at least compared to what I am familiar with. It's gray. Sometimes the streets smell a bit like urine. I've managed to get quasi-lost on various subway lines several times already. A movie shoot on my block is causing extreme frustration.

And I am loving every moment of it.

I made it to New York in one-piece on Wednesday night. Four days, 2200 miles; two alone, two with my Dad. Favorite quote heard along the trip: An old man in a coffee shop in North Platte, Nebraska who told the young female worker, "This Cinnabon is tits-up" (referring to the Cinnabon-flavored coffee container).

I remain over-tired and am rocking a sore throat and what may be the onset of a cold, but I am here and arguably, malnourished. Not out of poverty per se, so much as my obsession of sampling every pizzeria in my neighborhood -- and now in my work neighborhood -- to make up for two years of terrible Salt Lake pizza.