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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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I took a bite, and it bit back!

NEW YORK IS FUCKING RAD. I even bought an ďI heart NYĒ t-shirt to prove it.

I knew it would be, and it didnít disappoint. I did nothing but eat, walk around, shop, and marvel at the brick buildings, the tree-lined streets in the West Village and all the different people. Los Angeles is so homogenous (Hilary calls it the Maximum Insecurity Prison) everyone looks the same, listens to the same KCRW-approved music and generally strives to fit in. The entire time in New York, I think I saw maybe 2 people in Juicy Couture terry cloth draw-string sweatpants, and a handful in Seven jeans. In Los Angeles, those are both de rigueur uniform staples. The flipflops were, of course, everywhere, but I didnít really mind since New Yorkers have such impeccably pedicured feet. Thank god I kept my hooves enclosed in Adidas.

Ate: about a million cupcakes from the Magnolia Bakery, ate a giant rice krispy treat from Taylorís, had a yummy salad at the trend-o-rific Cafeteria,went to the 2nd Avenue Deli and was served by the most delightful waitress EVER (Dianeís her name, she is ancient and has a dyed-black bouffant and says this when she gives you back your change: ďEverything is subject to change, so letís change the subject.Ē See what I mean? She is the GREATEST!), had cocktails at Gavin Brownís Enterprise where the floor tiles lit up in Saturday Night Fever style, etc etc. Had a slice of pizza from Rayís Famous or Original Rayís (who believes it?) and it was yummy. I also had Moroccan food in the East Village, pasta in the Upper West Side, and yet more drinks at Barmacy.

Shopped at: Built by Wendy, Sigerson Morrison, Mayle, Prada in SOHO (the architecture is pretty cool but I think Patrizio Bertelli needs to stop spending so much money,) three Marc Jacobs stores, Bigelow Pharmacy, Anna Sui, Ingo Maurer, Moss, Tootsi Plohound, Troy, Air Market, Kiehls... Iím sure there are more, and Iíve got a list someplace but Iím too lazy to go find it. Since I did not receive a check before I left, I did not spend any money on luxury items. I really, really wanted to buy 2 pairs of shoes (a flat late-60s looking pair with a little buckle at Sigerson Morrison, and another pea green pair of flat maryjanes at Marc Jacobs) but couldnít do it. I didnít even try any on, so tremendous is the Fear of Homelessness. And they even had my size! But I exercised restraint.

In every city I live, I mentally adopt a street. Itís some silly psychological thing, where I like to have a sense of place, and part of that involves falling in love with one particular street and knowing it like the back of my hand. When I was a teenager, there were two streets: Haight and Castro. I knew every inch of those streets, every shop, and every cafe. In Paris as a teenager, I was all about rue Rennequin (in the 17th.) Thatís where my ballet lessons were, and I memorized every little centimeter of stone and pavement that lead from the rue díHeliopolis down rue Rennequin to Place de Champerret. For some reason, that street represented for me everything that was successful and happy about that year in Paris. I donít really have a favorite street in Los Angeles (yet?), but I already have one in New York: Bleecker. Man, thatís my street! Thatís my spot in New York, and when I move there, thatís where I want to live. Of course I realize itís expensive as hell, and that there arenít that many vacancies, but dammit thatís where I belong.

I will write more later. Right now, I have to run out the door to see my boyfriend Tobey Maguire in Spider-Man.

2:03 p.m. - 2002-05-25

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