This time next week I’ll be back in Brooklyn, where it will be cold and where I will once again have to do my own laundry.

It is both good and not good having two places to call home. To make sure I’ll be able to see all the people I want to see before I leave here, I’ve had to plan my last week of meals down to the last breakfast. But—too many people, not enough mealtimes; by the end of all the noshing and nattering, I still don’t think I’ll be ready to go. And yet I’ve already got plans with the New York crew, brill plans, tasty plans, rock ’n roll plans. It’s gonna be a good year.