it is HOT and i feel like carrie bradshaw typing this missive in my underwear in front of an open window

I walk around the city all day with my rollie bag filled with wines, absorbing the heat through the soles of my shoes (I am not even being dramatic--my legs are hot to the touch by the time I get home) and by about 5pm today I was exhausted. I thought I would get an ice cream cone before hoping on the subway home and wouldn't you know it, the soft serve I got from the most grumpy ice cream man ever was super soft. Think ice cream soup in a cone. So, I sat on the edge of a planter with my pathetic excuse of an ice cream and let a few tears escape. Who should walk up but a security guard to ask me and a few other seedy looking folks to keep moving. I almost lost it and my growing love for this city. I wanted to drop my wine bag and run. Instead I headed down into the ground, to be assaulted by even hotter air and hoards of people all in a hurry to get home. After an endless subway trip home (me, folded up like a pretzel and squeezed in among the other hot, sweaty people) I staggered into the deli below my apartment building for some nice cold beer (cans mind you, never glass when you are carrying them up six flights of stairs). Well, the usually grumpy (a theme here?) man at the cash register gave me a nod and a smile of recognition and suddenly my day was better. It may have been the promise of a cold beer but that small gesture and the feeling I had of belonging changed my entire outlook. This city, despite the occasinal melted ice cream, always manages to offer up something wonderful that keeps you coming back for more.