Manhattan: living in a sauna

Oh it is nice to be home. The past month has been head-spinningly busy. I left for London for a whirl of appointments and meetings on 20 July, came back to Manhattan for just two days before I left again for five days in Chicago.

After a concerted email campaign, I've found a new apartment in the East Village. One less thing to worry about. As to the rest, I do find myself missing hanging out with S rather too much. Bah. I hate losing friends. Especially when I have only myself to blame: I think I was rather careless of this friendship, and over-reacted to his honesty for reasons which had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with my past history.

Goodness, I am hot. After torrential rain and a thunderstorm that sounded like grand pianos falling down the stairs last night, New York's entire transport system has been comprehensively flooded, and the after-storm humidity means that temperatures are set to reach 100F today. Mozz (who is staying with me until tomorrow), and I are off to the Soho House rooftop pool now in an attempt to cool off.

This week is all about being by the water. Monday at Chicago's North Shore Beach, on the edge of Lake Michigan, under the shadow of the skyscrapers, and yesterday at the Brooklyn Beach, a mere 10 minute walk from Brooklyn Borough Hall. They've dumped tons of sand on the shore, and moored a huge pontoon boat thing some fifty feet high, with a 25ft open air swimming pool inside it. Doing laps looking over the East River to the towers of Wall Street is quite an odd sensation. We walked home through Brooklyn Heights and over Brooklyn Bridge.