So it's like this. You've just put down an application on a slammin' New York apartment. You've got a night to kill in New York City, but you have to get out of bed at the crack of dawn to meet your parents somewhere in Connecticut to drive up to Maine. But you really want to celebrate. We've all been there. What do you do?
Well, if you're like me, you put on an electric blue tube dress that's juuust this side of trashy, meet up with a bunch of people who have known you since puberty at an esteemed rock venue in SoHo so you can watch your friend rock out, maybe dance to some Peter Gabriel covers, leave at 2 am when you decide you're the most sober person in the room, sleep at another pal's empty apartment in Greenpoint for four hours, then get up and get lost in Queens at 6am on a Sunday morning due to MTA irregularities before sprinting through Grand Central Terminal and passing out on a Metro North train to New Haven.
THAT is what you freakin' DO. Just in case it ever comes up.
Oh, and you take video, too:
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