Dear New York ,

How are you? I am fine. It seems like a MILLION years since we talked! I bet you barely even remember me, LOL! I kept meaning to call you or write to you but I have been like, SOOOO busy, and now I just hope you aren't mad at me! Ha ha ha.

Anyway, now that I finally am writing to you, I hope you have a few minutes to sit down and read my letter because I have A LOT to talk about!

First I wanted to say that I'm sorry I got so mad about the broken subways last week. I know I cursed your name and called you a bastard city, but I wanted to let you know that it turned out okay for me, even though I couldn't get to my dermatologist appointment on account of the fire or debris on the track or whatever it was that kept the A, the C, and the F trains from running into Manhattan on Friday. Even though I had made that doctor's appointment ages ago and even though I really, really wanted to have the doctor make me beautiful, everything turned out okay in the end because after spending 40 minutes waiting for various trains and getting no direction or information from either the MTA or the police officers stationed at the subway stops (what's up with THAT???), I walked home and was able to catch up on "Ellen." I know it wasn't how I told you I wanted to spend my day off, but it was totally just as good as what I'd intended, and besides, that little lesbian pixie can DANCE.

Oh, and before I forget, this morning I had to ride the A train with a religious zealot screaming in my ears about my eternal soul and it kind of freaked me out. And while I was trying to angle myself away from the zealot, that girl studying for her nursing exam totally stomped on my feet and gave me a dirty look, and frankly, I think it's her eternal soul that is in danger, not mine, so maybe you could steer that little religious zealot her way, huh?

What was I saying? Or, right, I was apologizing for calling you a bastard city. You are a great city. You are one of my very favorite cities ever, and if you asked my friends, they would totally tell you how I especially like to say that New York in autumn time is the BEST. Seriously, you should ask them. I love this time of year, but it seems a little bit like you are mad at me or something, because we didn't get a whole lot of nice fall weather, only rain, and then it got cold like, overnight. What's that about? And this morning it was pouring rain and so I put on my dykey flat black boots with the molded soles that are like, sooo 2002, and I wore my new RAIN HAT and when I stepped outside the rain kind of stopped so I took off my hat and my hair was half-dry-half-wet and when I got to the subway station all the other girls had long, straight hair that had been neatly blown dry and were wearing pretty shoes, and I was in my MAN OUTFIT (and not in sexy Annie Hall way) with hat hair and I cursed you a little bit again, because COME ON, HELP A SISTER OUT, I am tired of showing up for work feeling like a damn mess. Please, New York, help me achieve effortless Ali McGraw-in-Love-Story look for fall, as I clearly stated that THIS IS THE BEST TIME OF YEAR. What would make it even better would be nice, crisp days, a sale on trench coats, and the perfect pair of jeans. If you know anyone who might be able to help me, have them email me. Thanks, U R the best!!

OMG, I am being a total bitch to you. I wanted to tell you good stuff too! Like, it looks like I'm going to be living here for a while since my husband ( Kent, you met him before, remember?) just accepted an offer with some sort of fund or firm or whatever, and he seems pretty excited about it. For a while I kind of thought maybe when he was done with school we'd end up moving to a new city, but we're not, which is good because I would have to make new friends and even though I was sort of hoping to end up someplace WARM, you are not such a bad city at all. I wish I had more time to walk around looking rosy-cheeked and wearing cute boots, but still, I like you a bunch.

I like the way you smell when it rains, and the sound the trees make when wet wind blows through them. I like the sound of tires on wet pavement and the way taxis reflect in puddles. I like going to your museums and then walking through the park, even on days when the park is full of bastard people with bastard baby carriages and it's impossible to walk side by side with my husband. I like the way your gray buildings look against a gray sky and I like walking into a warm restaurant on a cold night and shaking off my coat. I like street lights and holiday windows and rain boots. I like that time of night just before it gets dark and I like the click clack sound of high heels on the sidewalk. I like scarves and brownstone buildings and tin ceilings and bagels with egg whites and cheese on them. I like dog parks and farmers' markets and obsessively checking your real estate listings. I like your shitty old movie theaters with small screens and uncomfortable chairs. I like shopping for perfume at Bergdorf and having cappuccino at the panini place on 73rd. I like thin crust pizza with charred black bits and I like noodle soup from the deli on 5th avenue, right near Andrew's. New York, sometimes it is hard to like you, but I always love you, so on days like today when I curse you and wish I was living an altogether different life in an altogether different place, remember that it's a thin line between love and hate.

I wish we had more free time to spend together. Usually when I see you it's on my way from the subway to either my office or my apartment, and that's not really a very good time to catch up with you. Last weekend I visited Washington D.C. , but maybe this weekend we can have some quality time. I would hate to miss that one day when it is Perfect Autumn Weather, before everything changes and it turns into winter. I missed that one day in spring, that day when it was Perfect Spring Weather, before turning hot and humid, probably on account of my allergies, but I would hate to miss that day in fall. It is your very best day.

It is the day I most want to go on a date with you. In fact, if you asked me to describe my very best dream date with you, ever, it would go something like this: I would wake up around 8 a.m. and while my husband walked the dog (and we totally always scoop our poop, don't worry!!!), I'd go get pastries and coffee from the red deli around the corner, and when I stepped outside to get the coffee and pastries I would squint in the sun, because it would have rained the night before and I'd be surprised at how bright it is. I'd wear my raggedy old down vest. There wouldn't be a line at the red deli, but there would be a hot guy buying croissants in front of me and he'd be wearing a knit hat and aviators and he doesn't need to be a movie star or anything, but if it were Clive Owen I would not complain. I'd take the coffee and pastries home and we'd sit on the couch and watch a Tivo'd episode of something really good, then take showers, or maybe just one shower for both of us because I am like, TOTALLY MARRIED AND CAN DO THAT, and I'd wear a cozy sweater with Perfect Jeans (ahem, where are they already?) and boots and my hair...my hair would be GOOD. We'd take the subway, which would arrive RIGHT as we swiped our Metrocards, and we'd both get seats, and we'd take the train uptown and have more coffee somewhere before going to a movie, right in the middle of the day. After the movie we would walk through the park, which would be littered with leaves but still brilliant and damp and gorgeous, and I would eat two hot dogs as we walked east towards Madison Avenue, where I would shop happily, and I would feel effortlessly glam and appropriate no matter what store we went into, and I would buy the perfect trench coat somewhere. We would be glad once we were done shopping because the stores were a little hot and outside is nice and cool and as you probably know by now, I would much rather be a little cold than a little hot, but when dealing with extremes, I would rather be a lot hot over a lot cold. So we'd walk some more, and then take a cab downtown and spend that gift certificate I have for the cheese shop on Bleeker. After loading up on cheese we would have more coffee, this time with a pastry, I think, and then take a cab back to Brooklyn. There would of course be no traffic on the bridge. We would drop off the cheese and the trench coat and whatever else we bought and go someplace for a nice glass of wine, and then I would eat a giant steak. Unapologetically. And my hair would still look good. This is the day I want, and it's really not such a crazy pipe dream; in fact, it is largely attainable. New York, if you helped me out just a little bit, this day could happen any day now. Just something to keep in mind...

But enough about me! What is new with you? I heard you might be getting a new mayor soon. Do you know if you are getting a new Target any time in the near future? That would be awesome as the Target nearest me is a hellhole of dirty diapers and empty Doritos bags. Maybe you could mention that to your mayor, whichever one you end up with.

Okay, well, I've got to jam now, time to get back to work (ha ha), but we should really have brunch. KIT!!!

LYLAS,
Molly

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