Fourth of July

I woke up and finished my magazines at my favorite coffee shop on the corner of East 12th Street and Avenue A. Then I met the fake boyfriend and we had pork belly Vietnamese baguette sandwiches at Num Pang (because the only true way a Persian can celebrate the Fourth of July is with ample amounts of PORK!). It was a sunny day without being sweltering or humid; I wore my floppy black straw hat. We walked the High Line, the utopian elevated rails-to-trails park on the West side, enjoying the new section from 20th St. to 30th St. There's this little popsicle cart near 23rd where they sell these ridiculous odd-flavored homemade pops like cucumber-lime-mint with cayenne, and hibiscus with paprika. We had some of those, made fun of the inflatable art installation at 30th St., visited BeerParc, sampled the chashew micheladas at Empellon, then headed over for dinner at the Spotted Pig (roquefort cheese hamburgers!). Usually, my apartment building sets an alarm on the door to the rooftop, but for wise reasons they chose not to set it last night, so we were able to see the fireworks.

While on the rooftop, I couldn't help but think about another rooftop scene though... "Andy" is one of the biggest Persian pop stars out there. I mean, HUGE. He was actually on one of the floats at this past year's Persian New Year Parade down Madison. He's a little washed up now. But you HAVE to check out his music video. It will make you spit out your coffee. Persians LOOOOOOVE Andy.

I think it's the white headband coupled with his perm that makes him so sexy. Here's a picture of Andy from the parade a couple of months ago:

People, this is my culture. Some of us are more emancipated than others. Happy belated independence day!