“Frankly, I adore Eloise.” — Noel Coward
You and me both. I unearthed my old treasury of eloise books—tattered from the 50s, a gift from my grandfather—last night and flipped the pages for almost an hour, trying to remember why i moved to new york (i was having one of those city-crises-of-faith-moments). i think my leap here may have had something to do with the idea of running down the hallways of the plaza one second, taking a cab to a consulate the next, and buying a great fluff of cotton candy immediately thereafter. turns out, i have based major life decisions on the actions of a six year old.
