Anyone remember that 80's doll commercial, "My buddy, my buddy, my buddy, my buddy...wherever I go, he goes"? My life is haunted by my wedding budget, which is currently splitting at the seams. At a certain point, I suppose you step away from the table and say, "things will cost what they will cost." But darn it if New York isn't one heck of an expensive city.
The Foundry called today to say that another couple was poised to reserve our date. In the process of letting them go, I have drummed up a great alternative (albeit a popular one - they were voted NY Mag's 2008 "Party venue of the year"). Herewith, I give you Smack Mellon (which, unfortunately, only books a year in advance).
There's also the little place known as the Prospect Park Picnic House.
Off to learn some biochemistry. I heart the "sweaty socks" disease.
1 comment:
Dare I ask you what the "sweaty socks" disease is?
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