How was Montreal? Simply divine, thanks, though our allegedly four-star hotel was a little lacking in terms of actually being star-worthy. The art over Lily’s bed had been stolen and some damaged bolts left behind. The “kitchenette” we’d been promised was absent, so Lily went down to the front desk and told them she needed a fridge to store her insulin (read: vodka) so they brought an alarmingly large one up for us on a dolly. Of course there were no outlets in our four-star room, so they had to squish it in between Lily’s bed and the vanity.
But what are stars, Chicklets, when you’re blinded by the star power of Lily?
And here’s Lily’s report, sent upon her return to New York.
1) they took my 30 dollar sunscreen at the airport on the way home. It was .1 ounces over the size limit. I felt better when I saw all the liquor they made off with. Some TSA officer is probably sunning himself out on the tarmac right now, slathered with Docotors Dermatological Formula and drinking a magnum of duty-free Moet.
2) They sell the world’s biggest ice cream cones EVER at the Philadelphia airport. I’m moving.
3) I wish we had saunas and pools at our homes.
4) I heart all-dressed chips. And I don’t care who knows it.
5) I’m glad U made me buy that hoodie, cause I’m gonna need it 2 hide my identity when I wait in line 4 10 hours with a bunch of 13-year-olds 2 C MCR next week. On a workday. In my neighborhood. In PUBLIC.
6) I had the most awsome time ever! Thank U 4 meeting me even though U were sick! I heart U so much I would let U have Gerard if he were mine!