Two weeks ago tonight I was trying on vintage Valentino in the tiny apartment of the Goddess Who is Gone. The drive down to NYC seemed to go pretty quickly, what with the six pack I drank and all. But even though it is a mere 5 1/2 hours away, NYC is like a galaxy away in terms of people, buildings, and sounds. That Friday night in the city, with temperatures in the 70's, we slept with the windows open (and these were big windows folks). It was the first night I had slept with fresh air on my lily white Vermont skin. It felt wonderful. But like all of us who have moved from the country to the city, or vice verse, the sounds are what really make you feel like you are a visitor to a different planet. I couldn't settle my bones because of the sirens of rescue vehicles, and horns of angry taxi cab drivers, or the shouting of people walking by, parties in nearby apartment buildings, other tenants in the building going up and down the stairs. I'm not sure how long it would have taken me to get used to that cacophony; however, I must admit, and I know I'm a little biased, but I sure was glad to hear these noises upon my return to Vermont. These are the sirens and horns and voices I hear in the night. And frankly, I find them a little more soothing than the city's clamor. But that's just my cup of tea.