Arriving in New York City in a torrential downpour is always great. Particularly when you have to double-park to unload your crap into an apartment building with no elevator. Let's see... rain... check... (haha, rain check) possible parking ticket... check... absurdly fast sprints up the stairs... check... broken antique mirror .... annnnd check. Nice work, Alli... moron.

Break a leg?

Haha, despite my idiocy with the mirror, I think I've made a fine start at warding off seven years of bad luck. And if I haven't? Well, there still will be brunch on both Saturday and Sunday for the next seven years, so who cares.

Photo: Simple, semi-static shot of a wig mannequin, taken on one of my frequent strolls from Midtown to Gramercy.