I have been in New York City precisely one week but, of course, it feels as though I have been here longer.  And, shorter.

First, I need to advertise my friend Brad Bogner’s podcast, as he was kind enough to advertise my blog in this week’s episode.  Brad is the most opinionated person ever.  I mean this in the best way.  Have a taste of his caustic yet glorious medicine here:  The Brad Bogner Show.   Alternate website here.

I can already see my work week routine.  I get to the Whitney at 10:00.  Diana gave me the key to the offices, so if she is not there I let myself and Theresa (it is Theresa with an “h,” I have been misspelling it).  The documentation offices are actually in the museum proper, just off to the side of the lobby, by a Sol Lewitt mural.  At least once or twice a day a lost visitor stumbles in, presumably looking for the bathroom.  He or she then immediately gets an embarassed look on their face, stammers an apology, and disappears.  Also, we have a looping 30-minute soundtrack from the Sadie Benning video art piece, “Play Pause,” which is currently playing in the small gallery off the side of the lobby.  The soundtrack of my life, people.

After going into the office, which is our own little awesome space with a refrigerator and coffee maker which is nice because we don’t have to share them with the rest of the staff, I get settled at my deskspace, which is a computer on a large table with lots of open flat surface on either side where I can sprawl, which I like.  I hit the files.  I try to kill 10-15 a day.  I enter data.  If the data has problems I go to the library to find the correct data.  The librarian, who has red cats-eye glasses, looks unhappy to see me.  I sometimes find the correct data, sometimes not.  I go back upstairs and resume the files.  Sometimes Diana comes over and we talk about her life in the suburb and her two kids, or the best grocery stores on the Upper East Side, or the differences between the vampires of Twilight and the vampires from the Anne Rice novels.  If I find something ridiculous regarding artist comments I show it to Diana and Theresa.  Then I file some more.  And at some point I take lunch.  Around 5:00ish I leave, if I have no social plans I go to the gym, otherwise I go meet a friend for dinner or something similar.  Thus far, I’m okay with this schedule.

I also walk between 2 avenue and my apartment a lot.  In my immediate vicinity there are only beautiful old brownstones and expensive stores I cannot afford.  Carolina Herrera is my neighbor.  So I trek out to the 3rd avenue Duane Reade or 2nd avenue Gristedes or Citarella in order to run my errands.  My gym is also on 2nd avenue.  I am hoping all of this walking back and forth over 3rd and Lexington and Park and Madison will accomplish sometime in terms of trimming my waistline.

Not accomplishing the trimming of my waistline?  The delicious crepe I had for dessert tonight.  I decided I didn’t just want to sit at home on a Friday night post-gym, eating Lean Cuisine post gym and watching Sydney White on tv.  I shunned the cliche and put myself together to go down to what has become one of my favorite areas during my viists to New York: St. Mark’s Place.  St. Mark’s Place between 2nd and 3rd is this fabulous amalgamation of sunglass and hat vendors and Japanese restaurants and comic book shops and hookah bars and tattoo parlors and a karaoke bar where I once sang Meat Loaf’s “I Would do Anything For Love (But I Won’t do That) and Salt-n-Peppa’s “Push It” after drinking a giant magherita from Dallas BBQ.  I love walking down that stretch of the city: the people are the best, for reals.  Also, the Dessert Truck tends to hang out in that area.  Win.

Tonight everyone was wielding umbrellas, as it was 58 degrees and raining.  Um, June?  I walked down St. Mark’s to The Crooked Tree, a crepe shop on St. Mark’s Place between 1st and avenue a.  I met up with Phil post rehearsal for The Wasp Woman (playing on Sunday June 14 at the Algonquin Theatre on 24 between Park and Lexington!), and we both ate delicious nutella and strawberry crepes (look, sometimes you need dessert) and drank mango and passionfruit sangria and all was well.  And then we were both hit by a wave of exhaustion/food coma and decided to go home, though we made a brief detour to Kim’s Video where they were playing The Kinks’ The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society which I need to own.

So now I am exhausted and winding down by blogging.  I am looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.  Weekend plans include going to the gym, going to the Met to see the Model as Muse, a photography exhibit, and maybe the new American galleries–although I have all summer to go to the Met so I can take my time.  Success.  I would also like to take my book and read in Central Park, go to Bed Bath and Beyond and buy some hangers, and watch the Tony Awards.  Should all this come to pass, the weekend will be a success.  For now, I would like a successful night’s sleep.