Still boggled by Big City living. Small victories, though–en route to Trader Joe’s for my weekly groceries (which I carry home on the subway in a mondo backpack, turtle-style) not one but two separate groups of people asked me for directions, and I was able to give semi-helpful responses. Magnificent Mile and the Pavilion, so not rocket science, but still. Slowly but surely I stop feeling like a city idiot. Now I just need to get mugged, and I’ll feel right at home.
Food scores: more baby quiches, chocolate croissants, fried rice ingredients and a jug of OJ (I must kick this cold, stat). Now if that horrific storm rocking Flagstaff decides to head east, I won’t starve to death.