A Black and White Cookie, a Girl and a Dream

I must tell you about two recent discoveries I have made in the city.  Last week I promised to provide breakfast to a client of mine, who I desperately wanted to impress.  So I googled "best bagel places in midtown east, new york city", and Ess-a-bagel was the first result.  It happened to be only three blocks away, so I headed to 51st street with high hopes and a company Visa.  Turns out it is quite popular, because the line was out the door.  An 80 year old male greeter (I thought I was in Wal-Mart for a minute) told me to wait in a certain line, which ended up being the wrong one.  Eventually I ended up in the "bulk order" section, where I got talked into buying $70 worth of bagels and coffee.  The platter looked divine, and when my client saw the label, her eyes immediately lit up.  Thank you, Ess-a-bagel, for making me a winner that day.

I actually had to return the carafe the coffee came in that afternoon, so I made the trek over in between meetings.  While I was there, I made my second greatest discovery of the week-the black and white cookie.  Now, I know that these little discs of wonder are nothing new to most of America, and that they are sold just about everywhere.  But to me, it was like going down a road I had never gone down before.  I also ordered a glass of milk to go, as I had to be on the E train shortly after.  I thought I could wait until I got to the office to partake, but there it was...the cookie...just staring me in the face.  So I did what any chocolate addicted woman would do.  I ate it.  Devoured it, actually.  Right there in front of everyone.  It may have lasted three stops.  YUM!

In other news, I am so excited to go to Tennessee this weekend for our Labor Day family reunion.  I must say that I am looking forward to just about every part of it, with the exception of one thing.  The sleeping situation has not been a pleasurable experience since my sister got married.  Before that time, we would team up to get a bedroom.  Sisters unite!  We made a great case about us being grown women and needing our privacy.  But now, it is a battle I must fight alone.  The options have been as follows: the sunroom pull out couch where I can be assured to be woken up by young children before sunrise, the floor in my grandparents walk-in closet (right by the guns), and most recently, my aunt's house about a mile down the road (she does have a pool though).  I know there is power in numbers, and since I am just a party of one currently, that gets trumped every time by those in a state of wedded bliss.  But my question is this...when will it end?  When will all sleeping arrangements be equal?  If I am 65 years old and still single, will I be sleeping in a tent in the backyard when I visit family?  Or perhaps a hammock in the corner of the basement?  At that point, one could only hope for one of those Tempur-Pedic Advanced Ergo Adjustable Base beds that you see on television.  A girl can dream...