Too early in the morning for this topic? Yeah, probably.

Around this time last year, I was up to my eyeballs in the degrees of murder and grounds for divorce in New York. ("I don't want to be married to this douche" is apparently not one of them.) During a break from studying this crap really important legal stuff, I sent Liz the following email:

"For some reason, I thought of you when I came across this photo. For 2 reasons: (1) because he's hot and I thought you'd think so, too, and (2) because he's wearing bikini briefs while holding a butcher knife with a look on his face that says, "Oh. why Susan, you surprised me. What's that? You wanna know where John is? Well.. um..."

His name is Jason Mraz, he's some famous musician or something. Never heard of him. But he is damn hot."

Little did I know that I would later become obsessed this fine piece of hotness. Every song he makes, every video he puts out draws me deeper into his web of delightful sarcasm. And now I'm so tangled up that I can't escape.

So tangled, in fact, that when he recently blogged about toilet tips, all I did was smile and go, "Oooohhhh that's Just Jason Mraz being Jason Mraz. At least he's green!"

Oh, and did I mention the real reason for this post? The almost-naked picture of him? I didn't? Well shame on me!

Who knows what that tattoo on his arms says?

Public service announcement

I realize I haven't posted in a few days, and I send my heartfelt apologies for the break in communication. But I have a very good reason. Actually, I have several good reasons. First, I've been pretty busy getting my room back in order. What started out as a simple paint job turned into some full-on construction. And it's not done yet. I promise to post pictures when the new hardwood floors go down in two weeks. Until then, you'll just have to trust that the room looks awesome so far.

The second reason for the hiatus is a little something called the flu. I'm pretty convinced I have it. Not only have I had a headache for 3 days, as well as a sore throat, runny nose and hacking cough, but there's another little present going along with this illness that makes it all the more fun...the kind of stomach ailment you get from eating the whole burrito (because you NEVER eat the whole burrito in one sitting), the kind of illness you don't wish on your worst enemy. Yeah. THAT kind.

But despite feeling like shit (ha!) I still managed to make it into Manhattan today to run an errand with my grandmother. All I really had to do was sit in the car while she went into an office building, so it wasn't that bad. I even managed to take some pictures. So while I try to stay hydrated and not cough up a lung, enjoy these pictures of my hometown. (All photos taken with my iPhone.)

Manhattan Skyline

59th Street Bridge

59th Street Bridge (AKA Queensboro Bridge)

Lexington Avenue

Grand Central Station

Park Avenue

Farewell Shea Stadium

Because I fancy myself a food critic and a humanitarian

Six things that should never, ever be eaten or drunk alone.

Tonic without the gin. I recently bought a bottle of Tanqueray, and let me tell you something about tonic water: it tastes a little like vomit.

Burgers without the cheese. No offense to my Torah-reading friends, but it's just not the same.

Chicken broth without the bullion cube. Have you ever tasted unseasoned soup? It's like drinking a spoonful of hot water with just a hint of grease.

Cabbage without fish tacos. Little known fact about fish tacos: you're supposed to serve them with cabbage, not lettuce. I would have never known that if I hadn't gone to the City of Awesome.

Freshly baked bread without butter. Oh my God, have you ever had fresh bread? Like FRESH, crusty bread that's still warm? No? Well get your ass to a bakery the next time you're up at 5am and indulge me. There are fewer things better in life.

Wine without the stuff that makes it wine. Kick you feet up and get ready for a life lesson you will not soon forget. Before grapes ferment and become wine, winemakers (read: my uncles back in the Motherland) usually tap the barrels for what they call "young wine." They like to tell you it's sweet (it is), and that it won't get you drunk (it won't), and that it's good for you (questionable.) Really what it is, is a natural laxative. Two glasses of this stuff and you will have NO problem dropping the chocolate cobra. And just so we're clear, what I really mean is that you will shit your brains out. For argument's sake, let's say you only have one glass. No big deal, right? WRONG. One glass only ensures that you make three trips to the bathroom instead of five. Why am I telling you this? Because on the off chance that you read this before going to Italy or France or your uncle's garage and he's all, "Here, try my new wine," you can be all, "Has it fermented yet? Because if not, I'm really not in the mood for diarrhea today."