New York has disappointed me. The past two days it has been unreasonably temperate. Where are the formidable heat-sack clouds that hang like fresh cathether bags over the sidewalks? I may not like to chafe my armpits against my ribs, nor my thighs together, but damn it, what is my New York experience if it does not include such things? I walked fourteen blocks at a fast clip and I was barely even sweating. This is unreasonable, New York! I expect humidity that makes the difference between going outside and showering to be no more than the use of soap. Even worse, I hear that California is having a heat wave. Oh foul global warming!

Overall the trip has been good. In my cousin's Brooklyn apartment the Manhattan skyline beckons like a tide of those glowing jellyfish, and I like walking through bustle, and ogling the fashionistas, and going miles by simply stepping on a train and stepping off. I like my sister's obvious awe at the shopping and the people, and am a little weirded out by the attention a lovely fifteen year-old girl draws from men. I've come really close on a few occasions of saying, "You do realize you're staring at an underage child, right?" It reminds me of my own adolescent innocence. I wore short, tight skirts and tops and had NO CLUE what effect this had on the world of men. I see now how dangerous that beauty and innocence can be, or rather, how a certain kind of man would be willing to take advantage of the girl who bears it. It's a very odd feeling. I certainly don't feel old at nearly 32, but in her presence, I feel like my grandmother. And someone asked me today if I am her mother. I mean shoot me now. Maybe I WILL get those highlights after all.

I had a fantastic meeting with my new agent :) Things are looking up. Bless the muses for giving me this book, which is reverting to its original title, The Night Oracle, for submissions, to come toward the end of summer (near my birthday).

JPR