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In spite of the scrupulously saved money slipping, nay, marathon sprinting through my fingers, a birthday weekend playing in one of my favorite cities was well spent. I bellow-sang through scores of my favorite obscure musicals with the fabulous gays of the West Village, thrifted in Brooklyn, and shoveled mountains of pizza into my face. #perfect. #yesibloghashtaggedwhatofit.

Other than partying with my galfriends, my absolute favorite part of the trip was feasting upon the greatness of Jessica Chastain and Dan Stevens in The Heiress, a play currently on Broadway. (Go see it, you NY humans.) She was haunting and strangely magnificent as the awkwardly beautiful heiress to a much sought-after fortune. Seeing this from the nosebleed-I-might-plummet-to-my-death section of the balcony was entirely worth it, as I became infatuated with getting my feet wet in theater again. Chastain has really mastered her craft and obviously works very hard, inspiring me to do the same. Suggestions? What do I do with no time and a need to add just one more thing to my frightening schedule??

Oh, and I also went to the Moma for free and oogled at all the abstract expressionism//photography that I know absolutely nothing about.

I won't lie to you, dear readers, (all six of you), I missed my Nash hometown. Is anyone else as shocked as I am by the aforementioned statement?!

I suppose it's rolling green hills, mollasses accents and Yazoo Pale Ale for me. There was a lot of love waiting for me back home.

                                                                                               Sincerely, RR