Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the aesthetically pleasing and A.D.D. friendly JetBlue Airlines. Even though the stewardesses take their job too seriously, I still enjoyed my Munchie mix and diet Coke while I learned that 4 airbags deploy in my row in the case of an emergency. And I'll never forget it.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for New York pizza, namely on Bleeker Street. The party in my tummy had no idea what was coming. But it liked it.
Dear Baby Jesus, I may be the only thanking your for pigeons. But they're funny. So thank you.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Museum of Modern Art, where hipsters and crazies assemble to be weird, but with an open mind. I had no idea that a bad of cat litter and self-mutilation was art. I'm sorry I got tired and weirded out before we reached all of the floors. Maybe I'll start at the top next time?
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Not For Tourists Guide to New York City. I didn't know that looking at a map was still for non-tourists.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the infamous Subway and it's sense of humor. This poster was our favorite. Thank you also for that guy playing the guitar on the L train and how everyone thought it was okay. On that note, thank you for all of the subway platform performers. Livin the dream.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Naked Cowboy. We know each other real well now, as you can see. I'm sorry, I know my body is a temple, but it isn't a very good temple if no one visits, right. So the Naked Cowboy went straight to the basement.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you soooo much for Magnolia cupcakes. Sweet, sweet nectar of your tears and crystalized sugar never tasted so good.
Dear Baby Jesus, thank you most of all for the best friends ever, not all pictured here. This picture just had the most in it. I can't wait to live there.
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