I know it's such a cliche title for a post about an evening spent in the East Village with three other women, but Sex & the City is exactly how I felt tonight. I didn't say that to Eileen, Annisha and Gina B. because I didn't want to sound like a cornball during Eileen's birthday dinner at Miracle Grill, and I feel a little like a dork typing about it now.
After dinner, we crossed the street to Magnolia Bakery for their signature cupcakes before strolling down Bleeker Street, stopping by a Marc Jacobs store, and then heading our separate ways. I caught the train at Christopher Street and carried the sacred cupcakes to the Bronx. When I arrived back at Tokii's apartment, I threw down my bags, took off my jacket and then held the cupcake box delicately in my palms elevated in front of me.
"Ahhhh ... Ahhhh ... Ahhh ... Ahh .... Ahhhhh ..." I sang, mimicking a monk carrying an offering in a sanctuary. I turned slowly and entered Tokii's room. She got a devilish look in her eye, "What ... is ... that?!?!?!" Brief pause and then: "You didn't go to Magnolia Bakery!"
The latter wasn't a question. She grabbed the box off my palms. We each devoured a cupcake. I know being a New Yorker isn't about Sex & the City nights, Magnolia cupcakes and Marc Jacobs, but there's something about good wine, great restaurants and fabulous women that make you feel like you're finally starting to fit in.