Re: French Cigarettes.

I went out for breakfast in St. Germain the other morning. I was thoroughly engrossed in my omelette and baguette, when my feast was interrupted by three girls. They were Americans, and if that weren't enough, they were all NYU theatre majors...I deduced this from their conversation.

In New York, I avoid all major NYU hang out joints. On several occasions, Jennie Klein tried to get me to go to Dojo for lunch, because she loves their ginger dressing...I always declined, because university students grate on my nerves. I'm not exactly sure how many people go to NYU, but it's a lot. You can easily pick them out of the crowd...they're over privileged and like to think they're slumming it because they're at a bar on Avenue C.

I guess I'm partially jealous. I had wanted to go to NYU when I graduated from high school, but my fear of the unknown kept me from it. I was fearful then; these days I'm anything but...

The NYU girls sat there drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and of course, I was annoyed by this too...then Swede brought up a good point: I had bought French cigarettes the night before, and I had also smoked them while consuming too much French wine...you know, pretending to be French.

So I guess it can be surmised that I am not that different from the gaggle of girls who annoyed me...in fact, I'm just like them. However, not being twenty-two anymore, I giggle less...or at least, I giggle the way someone slightly over thirty does: composed, unabashedly, and with a few more laugh lines...

xo.

Mandy.