Last Night...

...I got to pretend to be Blair Waldorf for the evening (Gossip Girl for you non-believers). I had the not-in-stores-yet, over-priced sparkly cocktail dress (borrowed from work), the over-priced fancy dinner with fine wine, delicacies and mature conversation, even an over-priced room at The Palace Hotel (owned by Chuck Bass), in which we stopped off for a night cap in the marble abyss that is the Gilt Bar before we headed to our turned down beds adorned with chocolate and slippers at the foot. Unfortunately there were no Bass sightings (I know, I know; it’s not real), but it was certainly a treat to entertain my taste buds and imagination in such a way and leave subway commutes, Brooklyn and reality behind for an evening. Even if just for one night, because as you can tell by the way I’m awkwardly standing, I don't think I could ever be completely comfortable with all those finer things in life. But who doesn’t appreciate a little taste? Thanks Mare.