Yesterday was a bum day: it was a bit gloomy, we were busy with getting site things set, and–although up early–we fell into the trap of work. But, we did the one thing we were supposed to do: move from our tiny Hudson hotel room to a little spot we found thanks to a little site called Airbnb.

Please Note: We only took photos by way of our iPhones yesterday and–if you follow me on Instagram–you know that I have a tendency to glam them up via an app called Pick. You are warned, readers.

We crawled out of bed at 8AM to get to work on the sites and, at 10:30AM, did a mad clean to get ourselves out of the hotel room and checked out by 11AM. By some fantastic magic, we were out the door by 10:55AM and checked out by 10:59AM. Luck, I tell you! We then cabbed from Columbus Circle to Chelsea, where our Airbnb spot is. You can see a photo from the journey above, which surely featured a little rabbit pooting toward Rhianna. That happened in real life, I swear! We met Mimi, whose place we were staying at in Chelsea, and were introduced to the world of quick, cheap subletting: it’s a little weird. Her place is fantastic and five times larger than the hotel we were staying at; however, it’s someone else’s apartment. Airbnb is great and saved us lots of cash but I still can’t shake that we’re kicked someone out of her apartment so that we could stay there. Oh well: it’s a nice apartment and we’re paying her!

We spent some time unpacking and getting posts finished up, acclimating ourselves to a new part of town and space. Chelsea is a fantastic, dog friendly neighborhood and certainly very, very gay friendly. It’s so gay that Mimi even left an “NYC Pride Guide” in our room, as if we were here that late in the month to blow some bells and whistles for ~*~pRiDe~*~ Thinking about the neighborhood and how accessible it is to lots of things, from the High Line to Chelsea Market to other spots, we thought it would be nice if we lived here–if we lived in New York.

After discovering some delightful Engrish cups in the apartment (above), we kicked ourselves out of the apartment by 2PM to get lunch and get out of our new space. We headed over to Chelsea Market and grabbed a nice lunch at Friedman’s Lunch, a nice little sandwich place where the food was great but the service was terrible. Oh, well!

Guess what we did next? Went across the street to a Starbucks and I wrote yesterday’s recap. I’ve become the snake eating his own tale: talking about talking about talking about what we are doing on our trip out East. We’re doing more exciting things today, I ensure.

After attending to a few more work things and meetings, we decided to cap our night off with a trip to see Prometheus, which Bobby reviewed last night. It was a fantastic film–but New York movie theatres? THE WORST. What a zoo! No assigned seating (third world problem), it was packed for a 7PM viewing (typical), there were people fighting to get in to take refuge from busy streets (ugh), the seats were cramped (ugh ugh), there were nine previews before the film (N I N E), and it was just a mess. Thank heavens the movie was so good because there was no redeeming value in the viewing experience: New York movie theatres are zoos. We miss you, Arclight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After the film, we roamed around the city thinking there would be a shop or two open around 9PM that we could peruse. Unfortunately, they were all closed. That being said, we did stumble upon a fabled food destination: Eataly. Guys: this place. It was the best! It was like a foodies dream world, even if you don’t enjoy Italian food! It was heaven. We wandered around wide eyed, eventually sitting down at their cheese and meat bar for a bottle of rosé (and a charcuterie plate) for dinner. Why don’t we have anything like this in Los Angeles? Aside from Joan’s On 3rd there is nothing else comparable at all. We need this, everyone!

Upon finishing our meal, we headed to our new spot in Chelsea to watch the Food Network, which we assume is something everyone who has cable does every waking second of their lives. We passed through a lot of Chelsea and, again, were wondering if we could live here. We resolved that, if we did, we’d have to pay pretty pennies to live in an area like this: dog friendly, nice, close to things, and in Manhattan, proper. What’s the likelihood of this dream (“dream”) coming true? Slim to none since we have no pretty pennies.

New York, I’m Yours Rating? Seven glowing, dog friendly city blocks.