Slight update since I am still woozy from being awake for 24 hours straight. Miami party goers woohooo....they put the N in Night Owl and the P in Party.
Where do I begin?
First off, one thing I noticed in New York is that everyone's good looking. Not the greasy good looking like we have in Atlanta but the refined healthy handsome, pretty modern and trendy looks. Even if they're not expensively dressed, they at least look trendy, a chic hobo look that's very put together yet unintentional. And they are always either talking on the phone or plugged into their iPods. No eye contact at all. For the first time I didn't feel like I was the only outsider. Almost everyone has a tinge of the international in them. My accent just fit right in, nary a question of where my accent was from. Shame it's so expensive and the subway is filthy. I liked it almost as much as San Francisco. And Times Square day or night never gets old, no matter how many times you see it, it's still amazing. I could look at it everyday.
But Miami on the other hand. The people look good but it is a baked cheesy look. Everyone is either dripping with jewelry or silicon, or overly toned thighs and feel the need to show it off. It was a different look, of the trophy wife look. And everyone is international, a tourist or live-in, they still hardly ever speak English. Their fashion taste not so great, very flashy and gawdy but still expensive. They don't do understated there. Everyone's weaving in and out of the shops with their dogs, whatever size, from little chihuahuas to large drippy breeds. It's the kind of place that you plan ahead for, at least a year in advance, and then you go loose a whole bunch of weight, suck the fat out whatever, fix your silicon, and prepare to be treated like meat for the men who are out to prey. It's that intensely materialistic.
My birthday was so amazing, not a second to dwell on my age. It was flawless. I couldn't have designed it better. So filled with life, and wonderful stops along the way. I felt so blessed. I am glad I treated myself.
Where do I begin?
First off, one thing I noticed in New York is that everyone's good looking. Not the greasy good looking like we have in Atlanta but the refined healthy handsome, pretty modern and trendy looks. Even if they're not expensively dressed, they at least look trendy, a chic hobo look that's very put together yet unintentional. And they are always either talking on the phone or plugged into their iPods. No eye contact at all. For the first time I didn't feel like I was the only outsider. Almost everyone has a tinge of the international in them. My accent just fit right in, nary a question of where my accent was from. Shame it's so expensive and the subway is filthy. I liked it almost as much as San Francisco. And Times Square day or night never gets old, no matter how many times you see it, it's still amazing. I could look at it everyday.
But Miami on the other hand. The people look good but it is a baked cheesy look. Everyone is either dripping with jewelry or silicon, or overly toned thighs and feel the need to show it off. It was a different look, of the trophy wife look. And everyone is international, a tourist or live-in, they still hardly ever speak English. Their fashion taste not so great, very flashy and gawdy but still expensive. They don't do understated there. Everyone's weaving in and out of the shops with their dogs, whatever size, from little chihuahuas to large drippy breeds. It's the kind of place that you plan ahead for, at least a year in advance, and then you go loose a whole bunch of weight, suck the fat out whatever, fix your silicon, and prepare to be treated like meat for the men who are out to prey. It's that intensely materialistic.
My birthday was so amazing, not a second to dwell on my age. It was flawless. I couldn't have designed it better. So filled with life, and wonderful stops along the way. I felt so blessed. I am glad I treated myself.
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