Well, my 10-day NYC sojourn is 50% complete. I’ve already prattled on about Days 1, 2 & 3 of my trip, so here’s a quick update on Days 4 & 5.

{ Day No. 4: Brooklyn Bound }

On Wednesday, I bid adieu to Hell’s Kitchen and ventured across the Brooklyn Bridge to visit my brother Ben, his wife Marisa and their two Boston Terriers, Elsie and Pip. The happy family moved to NYC in January, and scored a cozy railroad-style apartment one block from a major subway portal. As I’m rapidly discovering, subway proximity is everything in this town.

Park Slope is a domestic mecca for organic / hipster / yuppie parents and their gluten-free children. And while this vaguely repulses me, it does make for some charming, stroller-friendly sidewalk culture.

After grabbing some some Vietnamese Bahn Mi sandwiches and lightly sweetened iced green tea, Ben and I took the pups to Prospect Park for an afternoon amble. Then we pumped iron at the local YMCA, hardcore sibling-style.

Later that evening, I took the G-train and met an old childhood friend for vegan rice fritters and conversation at the Manhattan Inn — which is not located in Manhattan, but rather in Greenpoint. The Inn features live piano music, flickering votive candles and very potent martinis. James Bond would’ve approved. And so did I.

I slept like a fossilized rock that night. Traipsing about in sequined sandals from dawn till dusk takes it’s eventual toll.

{ Day No. 5: Blog Encounters / Broadway Hysteria }

I awoke to clear skies and sultry temperatures, feeling bright as a shiny pink cloud. A couple tweets later, I had secured a date with the international playgirl herself, Gala Darling. We hoped to shop for discounted couture designs at the Chelsea Enclave, but the private event we intended to attend was not open till 6 PM. Bullocks!

To pass the time, we took a brisk stroll through Chelsea towards the Ace Hotel, nibbling pink, white and lavender macarons as we walked. Ben, Marisa and their friend Theo Bleckmann met us for lunch at the hotel’s in-house restaurant, The Breslin. I had the lamb burger with feta, which was juicy, salty and horrifically tasty. I descended into a meat frenzy and felt no carnivorous qualms whatsoever. Sometimes, meat happens. It might as well be a bad-ass burger.

I learned a valuable lesson whilst tromping around Chelsea in 4-inch wedge cut-out booties. For the love of sweet corn tamales, do NOT wear heels in NYC. Flats, ladies, flats. Sneakers, slip-ons, sandals, boots — just make sure they’re comfortable and blister-proof. Your soles — nay, your very soul! — will thank you later.

That night, I was fortunate enough to receive free tix to one of the hippest shows in town, American Idiot. It was basically a Green Day concert with better choreography and more confetti — by which I mean, an exceedingly enjoyable evening.

To top it off, I found a curbside soft serve truck, and bought myself the biggest, most sprinkle-encrusted vanilla cone on the market. The following photo looks eeriely familiar to my soft serve expression from O’ahu, except in the O’ahu pic my glistening, manic eyes are hidden by shades. Probably for the best.

(Main photo via F That S)