Yesterday after the party, Jamie and I recovered just in time to go for a weekend jaunt down Roncy for brunch and book lookin.
Although I love my Roncy, I can not wait until all the construction is gone completely and things start getting back to normal. Right now, there just are not as many people on the streets, not as much liveliness as there used to be. A few of our favourite hang outs bit the dust due to the Sahara-sized pedestrian traffic drought.
This is my memorial to them:
Dear Freshwood Grill. How I loved that giant fish on the back wall. Why was it there? Although your patio was bee city and your air conditioning was non existent, your sandwiches were like big cheesy, melty mayonnaise hugs. And your fries were da bomb.
Dear Silver Spoon. You were my soulmate. I pictured us running away together, dancing hand in hand on the beach while you fed me lamb shank and creme brulée with complimentary green ice cream in between courses to “cleanse my palette”. Also I probably loved you so much because I never paid for you (Birthday dinners and such). I hope you reach the giant cutlery drawer in the sky.
Dear Queen of Tarts. Your “pregnant lady” cookies were my favourite. Remember that time Jamie and I ordered 25 presidential election-themed cookies from you? That was good times.
Also that vintage clothing store, BOHO, probably something in the next ten minutes: Sorry you also died.
One of my new fabric sandals from the Gap is bigger than the other and keeps falling off my foot.
I totally just fixed that shoe with my amazing home-maker skills! BOOYAH!