As close as I get to drunk posting.

This morning I went to the greenmarket and bought plums, and this evening I got drunk on a boat and ate vanilla ice cream.

I've wanted to eat a meal on the Frying Pan since I found out it existed, and tonight I finally achieved that goal. Two friends of mine and I made it out there, and with one of us arriving well ahead of the other two and securing us seats on the bustling upper deck, we simply breezed past the line and took our places. We drank sangria and ate French fries and talked about Mad Men and housing woes, and I used my little umbrella as a parasol to keep from getting sunburned. Then we ordered cocktails and burgers, and talked still more, until it was time for us to go.

The ice cream didn't come on the boat; the ice cream came later, from a grocery store, that I ate in the privacy of my apartment in preparation for Peaky Blinders. Which I'll now begin, on the raw strength of the recommendation I received on the boat.

(Amazingly, I'm still quite drunk at this point in the night - it was good sangria and a very nice cocktail - I just can't not be careful about some things.)