I know I mostly recapped my visit to New York already. Or, I guess I've done as much of a recap as I'm willing to do. I have no souvenirs, save three MetroPass cards (two with fare still on them!) and the Hong Kong dollar I found sitting on the floor, just under the edge of the bed my first night there. So, if you're heading to New York City before July 31, 2009 and plan on taking the subway, you know where you can get some MetroPass cards. There's enough for a couple of rides, even.
Incidentally, the World's Worst Wing Woman and I decided on the ride back to my place from the airport that "Hong Kong Dollar" sounds like some sort of perverted sex act, a la Cincinnati Bow Tie. If you don't know what that is, do not look it up. Seriously. It's not as bad as a pink sock, but it's bad enough. You really, really shouldn't look up a pink sock.
Anyway, I had some pictures of my room in the Paramount on my camera that I thought I'd post. How terribly fucking thrilling, I know.
My pristine white, king-sized bed that provided lovely, lovely sleep. I was glad it was so white so I wouldn't have to look too closely to see if there were any fleas or bedbugs.
The funky, stainless steel sink in the bathroom:
The ... um, carpet and stuff:
The marble table and leather chairs, with my shit hanging all over them.