I just paid $6.03 for one nausea-inducing iced mocha latte and an inedible slice of low-fat oatmeal banana loaf. I hate you Starbucks. You own me.

In other news, J and I hosted his parents for a day of fun and frivolity in the city on Saturday. J's parents are wonderful sports, as we shuffled them through the often treacherous NYC subway system, the overcrowded South Street Seaport (where that strange bendable man is still stuffing himself into a 17-inch box), the blistering hot streets of Chinatown (regrettably, I did not take Mom of J into the depths of hell for a Coach bag), finally weaving them in and out of the shops in Soho. I think they loved it. Next time - Astoria!

On Sunday, J and I hopped in his car to listen to 80s rock and simultaneously play "Where would you live in Brooklyn?" - for research purposes only, of course. Although J will disagree, Coney Island gets my vote. In all my years in New York, why have I never seen this wondrous place? It's completely charming, with its rickety old wooden roller coaster "Cyclone," and it's dilapidated ferris wheel. And I'll tell you, you can't get a better gyro in Greece! The bubble gum water ice had real bubble gum in it! You can play a game called "Shoot the Freak," in which you aim paint balls at a "LIVE HUMAN TARGET!" You can sing karaoke on the boardwalk in the middle of the day! I spoke solely in exclamation points for the duration of the afternoon. It was that good. J says the word is that this is the last year for the amusement park, Astroland, but the nice man who made our gyros told us not to believe it. If Coney Island is on its way out, I say, run, don't walk.