the great leslie

I went to Montauk this weekend, all the way at the end of the Long Island Rail Road. My lovely friend Angela has been talking about it for over a year, but I avoided it: too ritzy. But it was pre-season, and still too cold to be considered "beach weather," so it was perfect. The ocean and the sand were beautiful. Smooth rocks are washed up by the waves. Fourteen people attended a party last night with barbequed brisket and "mon-tacos" (fish and scallop tacos made by one of the celebrated birthday-boys, Wilder). And of course, the whiskey was plentiful.

I spent a lot of time looking at the ocean, trying to be far away enough and close enough to the fire and the people. Sometimes I'm like that: unable to decide about intro- v. extro- verted natures. But it's always so nice to look at the ocean and think about all the things we tend to think about.

So, it's possible I was being a snob about Montauk the whole time, thinking it was full of snobs. I was very sad to leave and return to work.

But happy to have an early start to the season of weekends away from the big city.