Three Days in Jersey

With Voodoo Doughnuts melting in our backpacks and a lack of sleep showing in our faces, we emerge from security at Newark Airport. A quick phone call later, and I'm off running. Near the airport food court, Weatherly is standing with a coffee in one hand and a tea in the other, ready to greet her birthday guests. We drive the few miles to her new house, greet Brandon and the cats, and distribute the transcontinental breakfast pastries.

By some miracle (also known as free beer at the airport), I slept the entire way from Portland to Boston, and arrived ready to make the most of this quick trip. After a few minutes to get organized, we're headed for a nearby pizza pub. We shared a basil pizza and a Mexican pizza between the four of us. I had wine, the rest of the table had summer beers.



Back at our home base, Brandon cooked an awesome meal while Weatherly, Bobby, and I chattered in the yard. We posed for some photos:



Then we stopped posing for photos (after a few glasses - alright, bottles - of wine):



Back inside, there was fried tofu and pasta with fresh herbs to enjoy:



Before long, we were back in the yard enjoying a warm summer night in New Jersey. Lit by the fire, we laughed, told stories, and talked of many fine memories made together:



As the fire cooled, Bobby and Brandon endeavored to restore it. They smashed pieces of plywood apart as we ladies looked on nervously. The boys were triumphant, and the fire burned on.





With plans to catch a Manhattan-bound train by morning, we all headed to bed around midnight.





Awake at 8:30 and on the train by five til nine, we made the SoHo Uniqlo store our first stop. While the rest of the country grudgingly accepts flare-legged jeans, I'll be stylishly clad in skinnies for the foreseeable future.



After a brief trip to CB2 to view a wardrobe, we walked uptown to Weatherly's and my old neighborhood. We stopped for lunch at Vegetarian's Paradise 2 on West 4th, where everything on the menu was an option. Bobby had the kung pao "chicken," and I had spicy "chicken" with udon noodles. Weatherly and Brandon had fried "chicken" and "ribs," respectively. Much sharing took place.





Once lunch was finished, I insisted on a photo in front of the building where Weatherly and I met eight summers ago. Call me nostalgic.



Landmark visits out of the way, it was time for some education. We caught a C train going uptown for a trip through the Museum of Natural History.



We learned about planets:



And astronauts:



I was a bison:



We saw walls of fish:



Stared at long-felled trees:



And finally left as the gates were closing.



With two hours before our next event, we settled in at a nearby bar to have a few drinks and await dinner with Laura Jean.



The wait at the Thai place was long, though, so we hopped across the street to an Indian restaurant touting itself as the best vegetarian food in the world. Post-dinner, this group shot was snapped by LJ's gentleman friend.



Not wanting to stop the party, we visited yet another bar. This one featured cocktails named for famous people, and I ordered a Pablo Neruda. Hijinks ensued.





Checking the train schedule, we finished our drinks, hugged on Ms. LJ and her companion, and skedaddled out to catch a cab. The driver, assuming we were tourists, took Broadway in order to get us stuck in traffic and charge a higher fare. He also drove like a maniac, as New York cabbies sometimes do. We got there in one piece, though, and headed back toward Jersey. Teamwork!



Our last day came too quickly. It was filled with missions. The first of which involved snapping a photo of Kelly's high school, which was within walking distance. Kel, this shot's for you:



Next stop was the Buttery Bakery in Cranford, where there were black and whites to be purchased. I selected seven from the case, and threw them in the freezer for maximum travel sturdiness. For scale purposes, each cookie is approximately the size of a salad plate. No joke. Observe the delicate craftsmanship, the clear sweep of an icing knife as it decorated the top. These are the real deal, my friend.



Our last mission involved finding a cover for Weatherly's e-reader, which Link was happy to help with:



Feet dragging, it was time to head for JFK airport. We'd changed our flight at the last minute for fear of missing the connection, which bought us precious extra time with our wonderful hosts. "Girls to the front!" I declared, and we drove through three boroughs blaring dance music. Bitten by the nostalgia bug once more, and acting as Car DJ, there was only one choice to make:



Cue the singing along. Cue the audible eye-rolling from the back seat. Cue the front seat not caring. **CLAP CLAP**



Justin Timberlake guided us past Coney Island's long-dormant Sky Jump:



And Britney Spears' "Toxic" led us to the gate:



Many thanks, Weatherly and Brandon, for being such delightful hosts and even more delightful friends. We'll see you soon.