Coyote Ugly, NYC.

I'm sitting in a cafe with free wifi in the Flatiron District, drinking a hibiscus steamer, listening to The Decembrists "The Hazards of Love" album, hoping to stimulate the creative juices, but I have writer's block. Isn't that so typical New York City? I'm aware of how hipster that sounds. It makes me cringe. Instead of writing for the book, I sent numerous emails, and now I'm writing this blog post. The procrastination is coming along fabulously!

This weekend, my sister and college friend came to visit. On Friday, we went to see Mark Williams at The Bitter End. We've been seeing him perform since he was 12, and now he's an 18 year old rock star. Next time they go on tour, I'm going to be the tour mom and make sure they all wake up on time and shower. I'm so excited. Concert was awesome, except they charged us $84 for 8 drinks and 2 Sprites. Each drink was $6.50 (somehow including the Sprite), so that equals... $65. I used a calculator to be sure. Besides the fact that Sprite should never cost $13, I asked the waitress who looked like Victoria from Twilight, and she said,"There's a $10 service fee." Okay, why? That's not even a 20% tip, but you're clearly not getting anything extra now. We're up to $75. Was tax $9? Why not include tax in the price of a drink? Sense, it makes none. I thought the service fee was because 19 year old Sarah asked for a beer and didn't have wristband, to which the waitress responded, "Another $6.50 Sprite then?" She was mean. Sarah did get good Karma when she got a free cheeseburger and fries at McDonalds though.

Saturday, we went to brunch with Mark, and then I spent four hours making a cake. I was attempting to make a cake that mimics the chocolate peanut butter candy cakes by Tasty Kake. It worked, except melting chocolate is no small feat. It turned into powder, so I mixed it with milk. It worked, sort of.

For dinner, we went to Charritos, in Hoboken. I'm not a fan of Mexican, but this was the real deal. The space only fits about 20 people, and you sit on benches with pillows. It's BYO, but they will make you margaritas or sangria if you provide the alcohol.

Fun, tragic fact of the day. There are coyotes in Manhattan. I know, I didn't believe it either. It came in through the bathroom window (Holland Tunnel). Then it went on the lam (lamb? sheep's clothing literally?), until it got tired and went to nap under an Escalade in a parking garage. Then cops killed it. I know they say they just tranquilized it, but this picture is NOT flattering. Anyone who sleeps like that is dead. I'm sorry, but it's true.