The wild rumpus continues into year 23.

Every so often, I suppose it's reasonable to provide photographic evidence that my friends are as amazing as I describe. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday or better company to spend it with.

Birthday, Observed (Sunday):

Nomi, Liza, and I made brunch and played Settlers. Cliff joined us & we went into Manhattan to get rainbow-sprinkled birthday cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery and eat them by a fountain.







It was about a million degrees out, so we discreetly lounged in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, since we deemed its air conditioning adequate for rejuvenation (though its surprisingly-tacky carnation floral arrangements made me think somewhat of going to the dentist).

Cliff & Liza were kind enough to indulge my long-held wish to take a touristy carriage ride through Central Park:



I think I am getting more touristy the longer I live here.

Our pony's name was Alfred. I picked him out because he was really friendly and looked happy & healthy.

His owner let me give him a carrot.



Birthday, Actual (Monday):

After a few hours at my new job, I took the N-train to Coney Island and grabbed a couple of corn dogs for sustenance.



I walked down the beach past the Aquarium toward the Brighton Beach side until I found a spot with almost no other people around. Then Nomi & I placed our figurative flags. (Not pictured, because I forgot to take more pictures: big brother Michael.)





Nomi with our book of communist children's stories, which features an author from Sarah Lawrence (naturally).





Still sticking to my plan to jump in the ocean at least once a week.

So, anyway, I made it to 23. Now I guess I'll try for 24!