Lost in transit

very early... very late?

Rule number one of blogging is probably not to blog while under the influence of hmm, let's say alcohol. A sub rule of this first rule is not to blog drunk when posting to a group blog. The writing could be revealing, one could admit to a huge love and perform many, many other dangerous suicidal literary and social moves. But how could I resist, how could I resist not to reveal my love, especially after a very international party in a really old bar in SoHo. (At least old by New York standarts,) a place called Puck Fare, the bar across the street from the historic Puck building in SoHo...

How could I resist if I took a slow and slightly wobbly walk on Prince street afterwards and enjoyed the peek into the large prada store, formerly known as Guggenheim SoHo. How could I resist if greeted by the glowing glas gems of basement ceilings in this part of town. How could I resist if the language spoken in any one of the conversations I passed by was not English. How could I resist after taking such a good an peaceful walk.
I wanted to take the subway but somehow felt too exhausted. Then in the cab Elmo from Sesame Street "wanted me to be save"... a recording of his goofy high pitched voice told me to buckle up. I fell asleep in the yellow car, and was not able to see the yellow Empire State Building, though it was most likely turned off by the time we made it to the West Side Highway. I woke up on the wrong corner one hudred streets later and yet close enough from home to just take a second, short walk down the block. Oh, I love this city. Drunk or not... And the time does not really matter either. The city is always up and busy doing something really important...