Some things just seem...right.

Today I went into New York City for dark reasons of my own (having to do with meeting Houston and Margaret at Port Authority). I had a bit of spare time, so I went to the New York Public Library and sat in one of their reading rooms and wrote. It seemed such a very writerly thing to do.

Then I went and had lunch with my cousin, who works doing sound for Broadways shows. And that was such a very artsy, bohemian thing to do.

But both these things PALED in comparison with how I spent the remaining half hour until I was to meet my family. I went into the Algonquin Hotel, ordered a gin and tonic, and sat in an overstuffed leather chair in the lobby, sipping my (wildly expensive but gaspingly strong) G&T and working on my current novel. Bonus: I was using a fountain pen.

Observe the gin and tonic to the right of the photo.