oh mah gahd - the damn turistas are fricking everywhere (at least everywhere in midtown): not the elderly tourists who arrive by the busload for the matinee performance of the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, and not the red jacketed band tourists in town for the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, and not the tracksuited tourists left over the Monday following the New York City Marathon. no, we're talking full families of tourists (probably Long Island and New Jersey residents bringing the kids in during the week off from school) walking three abreast on sidewalks made more narrow by the excessive crap (your name (Robina?) written in a decorative style on a large, rectangular piece of paper? tell me, just what in the hell do you do with it when you get home?) offered by the rapidly multiplying street vendors.
and it'll only get worse as we get closer to New Year's.
a fun week, I tell you. come on down.
last book read: The Third Man (BFI Series) by Rob White
the book before that: The Third Man by Graham Greene
the one before that: One Day in September by Simon Reeve
last DVD watched: Love, Liza
last movie seen in a theater: Munich
the movie before that: Capote
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