For G.I. Jane's birthday, we went for Korean food (including their famous Korean chicken wings) at Boka (formerly Bon Chon). Mmm. Chicken. The only thing that was weird was the waiter kept insisting that one of the drumsticks was actually a wing. We're still not sure why.
After dinner, I stopped by Jane's apartment to borrow some travel books. While I was there, I caught a fascinating glimpse into the paradox that is the high-powered New York career woman. Next to Jane's well-loved mountain bike, piles of books (some of which were duplicates because she forgot she already had them), and cabinet of hard liquor, I found this:
A cache of cuteness. Jane was very unapologetic about her not-so-secret stash of cute, even when I pointed out how incongruous it was with her life. After that, there was nothing left to do except this:
In New York, even the cute need to get hammered once in awhile. Don't you drink and drive, unusually-large-headed turtle!
New York City. On Canon Powershot.
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