And so I’ve returned from my brief hiatus, an absence taken for a wee vacation at a friend’s beach house for a few days. But before I can begin on journaling those few days, I must finish the adventures in the city, non? Leaving (or attempting, rather) the Metropolitan was quite the task – it was literally swarming with people who scrambled in to escape the outpour of rain. Eventually we were able to weave our way out and begin our trek in the rain towards the dear old subway. (I do sometimes mistakingly call it the Metro or the Tube, names that are far more pretty than the “subway.”) Fast forward to the subway. (I assure you that the walk wasn’t too exciting – though the city looked incredibly beautiful, in a vintage sense, in the rain.) We boarded, squeezing in the wet, sweaty, and rather stuffy (mildew-y, even) crowd just before the doors closed. It was a bit uncomfortable, I must admit, as awkward contact with strangers tends to be. That, and enduring several men blatantly looking me up and down. Two stops later and M. & I finally have room to breathe and a pole to support…