Whenever I try to avoid Times Square...

We started out with the intention of visiting the USS Intrepid on Saturday, but we never made it.

Mr. G. has never been there. Every time we have a spare few hours, we rack our brains for something interesting to do, come up with something half-assed, and then say that we should probably have just gone to the Intrepid. I nipped this one from the get-go and just said straight out that's what we needed to do, not taking into account the time of day (2 p.m.). By the time we were moving and ready to hit the city, we'd have maybe three hours at the museum. Ample time, as far as I'm concerned, but probably not enough time for a gadget guy like Mr. G.

We had to make a quick stop in Tribeca first, eating further into our time. We grabbed the 1 train uptown to 42nd Street, and then had to find an ATM - but not just any ATM. Nope. It had to be Citibank so Mr. G. wouldn't get clipped with a $3+ service charge. It was 3:30 by this time, and I didn't think the walk, wait on line, the $23 entrance fee, and closing time of 6 p.m. was worth the trek.

We were well into Times Square at this point. I hate Times Square with the heat of 1,000 suns. It's too full of people who don't know where they're going or what they're doing. It compounds my dislike of tourists. It's the reason why I never drive anywhere in the city between 33rd and 70th streets.

From across the sea of moving bodies at 44th and Broadway, I spotted the Times Square information kiosk, the perfect place to find out where the nearest Citibank was. We crossed in front of George M. Cohan and made a beeline for the information booth, which turned out to be a cavernous passageway that wove past public restrooms, through a souvenir stand, to a bored-looking guy who knew where absolutely everything was in the Times Square area. He told us where the nearest Citibank was (44nd and 6th) and where to find Pop Tarts World (42nd and 6th).

Once Mr. G. acquired some cash, we decided to check out Pop Tarts World. It was a complete waste of our time. Nothing more than a store front over-filled with odious tourists, it was just a giant, poorly executed attempt at marketing. The T-shirts and other logo-swathed goods were unimaginative and the only way to actually buy Pop Tarts was through a giant vending machine that would mix-and-match flavors or at the snack bar at the back of the store...for a whopping $12.

Nothing on the menu sounded good - everything looked overly sugared and artificially flavored (though it's not like I expected anything else). There was no clear place to sit and people were bumping in to each other and tripping over themselves to catch the attention of the overworked clerks behind the counter.

Don't get me wrong. I love Pop Tarts. I just think this attempt to compete with M&Ms or Hershey wasn't very well thought out.

BUT all was not lost. We were hungry and thirsty at this point and we strolled past 43rd Street, home of the Heartland Brewery, which is soooo much better than the other commercial offerings in that part of town (I refuse to enter most of the Times Square eateries unless it's on someone else's dime). Half a block down from The Town Hall, the Heartland Brewery Chop House offers a typical steakhouse menu, but is very reasonably priced by Manhattan standards, and the food is just plain good. Then there are the beers. The Smiling Pumpkin Ale has just been added back to the menu, and that made me very happy to see.

However, we didn't go there. We went HB Burger next door, the Heartland's burger joint, open a little over a year. I ordered my Smiling Pumpkin Ale, along with the a la carte Bison Burger and a side of Tater Tots. Mr. G. had the Filet Mignon Sandwich, also with a pumpkin ale, and a strawberry shake.

There was no wait, but the foot traffic from Times Square and 6th Avenue was steady. Our waitress was friendly, knowledgeable, and just very sweet. One of the things that HB is known for are its homemade sodas. She was kind enough to bring us samples of the orange cream and the root beer, though in the end I settled for the black cherry float with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

I'm glad we didn't make it to the Intrepid. It was a gorgeous day to just walk around, even if we were in Times Square.

Writing because I can

The approach of autumn usually makes me happy. The fact that we have a tropical storm warning over our heads would usually just make me smile more. Not happening right now, though. Type O Negative's Green Man off October Rust is playing, and I think it's only contributing to my foul mood.

I finished the scarf I wrote about in Ribbon! and I'm on to the second skein that I bought on that trip. Same pattern, as you can see here.

What is not clear are the colors - dark blue with a dark, almost olive green almost climbing diagonally up the fabric.

This scarf will be mine, unless someone near and dear to me can make a strong enough case for me to hand it over. That's very unlikely to happen, though. I love these colors entirely too much to give this up.

Now iTunes has progressed to No Home Without Its Sire off Peter Murphy's Dust. That would be "its," minus the apostrophe.

I have been unpacking, again. The construction I've had to deal with is over and done. It feels as if I just moved in, again, though. I'm hoping to make good use of the three-day weekend to knock out most of what's left and perhaps I can even begin hanging pictures. What a difference that will make on my blank walls.