The best laid plans... how does that saying go? Making plans always turns out to be a disaster. Someday I will learn that expecting less always brings more.
Instead of this from Friday's entry: "Drinking commences in three hours on the glorious Metro-North Railroad bar car, and despite the cold, I'm banking on a damn fine weekend full of girls, tapas, sangria, Manhattan, Otto, a 'rado, martinis and maybe a pumpkin thrown in there for good measure."
I had this: Drinking commenced at the glorious Thirsty Turtle, and despite the cold, I had a 50/50 weekend full of drunk girls, stealing shopping carts, too much Red Bull, Stamford, Otto, a BMW mechanic, 337 melodrama and yes, a little sugar pumpkin thrown in there for good measure.