unfortunately, successful living at the tip-top of manhattan demands absolute subway mastery. friday's dinner at bolo (one of bobby flay's restaurants, considered by some to be the best spanish food in the city) was a fine start to our evening, but we managed to spend two hours trying to get back here, thanks to a wacky late night local train schedule. phil and friends entertained us in chelsea last night, and it seemed that day 2 would end well - until we hopped a train to the bronx, a horrible detour that got us home as the sun was rising. i'm investing in brass knuckles.
mail order leeches.
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