Brooklyn with Rye. And Stupid Baseball Metaphors!

The world's worst Mama took the barfing baby on a six hour plane ride yesterday. Yo, Brooklyn! The stewardesses were nice, but I pretended it had come on him all of a sudden. "Wow! So weird! To think he was perfectly fine this morning!" (And by "perfectly fine" I mean that I had his vomit on my shirt this morning when I called the airline to see if I could postpone my flight.)

It's freezing here. In a good way. I actually love the brisk, biting cold when it's just a visit. It's hard to even believe in it. I've got the right coat (for once). Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really have a warm coat for Rye, either. Heh heh. Strike two!

He's having fun though, the little sugarplum. 100% attention from 100% ladies.

The Aunties place is dope. Sweet, all the nice details and funky touches, great location near the train and the park. Their landlord brings them pepper-marinaded tilapia. And their combined Noah's Ark rainbow menorah and tannenbaum tree holiday display is all good.

I got sent over to Opal Opal Massage for an AMAZONAZING birthday massage. I bought some of their "revery" oil blend to take home. Aaaah.

OK, crying babe, better not get an out.