Last night Cara and I went to Tiffany's to buy some bridal shower gifts for a friend. Amazingly, her registry is almost already sold out, and the shower is almost a month away. Luckily, I scored what I was after and I got to carry my big blue box and bag all over the east side for the rest of the evening.
Shopping at Tiffany's is an experience. For starters, the customer service is obscenely good. These people actually know what they're talking about when you ask them questions about china patterns and place settings. They encourage you to sit and rest while they wrap up your gifts. I've never felt so cavalier about handing over a charge card as I did when I had to pay. I didn't even know how much I spent until I looked at the receipt hours later. The receipt, I might add, is on thicker paper than anything you'd get at Bloomingdale's, and they put it in a little envelope for you. So this is how the other half lives...
After shopping we stopped for some brick over pizza up on 55th Street. I was telling Cara that lately I felt like I was having some sort of strange, quarter life crisis. Cara sort of rolled her eyes at me and said, "Look, Pauline. You're a smart girl. You're creative. You've done a lot in your six years in New York. You've done the cool news job, you've done the masters degree from Columbia, you live alone in Gramercy and you've dated some pretty respectable men. (Except for that one guy who never wore shoes. But he was really hot.) You're not having a crisis. You're bored. You just need something new."
And you know what? Cara, always the beacon of truth, was right. I'm not having a crisis, I just need something that can hold my attention. So if I start getting more into photography or take up Ukrainian folk dancing, I can assure you that I'm not losing my mind. I'm just looking for the Next Big Thing.
I have little else to report, so I leave you with two good stories from today's New York Times.
Addicts Discuss the Killer Heroin Rumors
What to Do About September 11, 2005