city of misery

I must apologise for the disappearance. I was whisked away on a secret journey to New York City for the celebration of my sixteenth birthday (which isn't until September). Was I surprised? I was having a hysterical breakdown in the backseat.
New York is just as I imagined. Huge, crowded, dirty. Absolutely beautiful. The best part, I have to say, was the food. You haven't LIVED until you eat in Little Italy.
I must say, however, stay away from Chinatown. I was reading the outside menu of a little restaurant and came across the dishes of:
'Crap Fish and Rice
Sweat and Sour Chicken
etcetera.'
There seemed to be an awful lot of Crap fish. I played it safe and got the seafood fried rice. Although when attacking it with my chopsticks, I found long, rubbery white things that I wasn't too sure about. Crap fish?
You are what you eat.

The greatest thing about being a tourist in a huge, overcrowded city is the fact that you don't know one soul there. This, I took advantage of.
We were standing in the one hour wait line for the Empire State building tour. I got bored, and Catherine started poking me. I let out a ear-piercing wail that would normally come from the mouth of a distressed one year old. I shocked the life out of the toddler in front of me and probably anyone in the four foot radius. And believe me, I didn't quit.
"STOOOOP ITTT! IMMA TELL DADDYYY!" I shrieked, stomping my foot.
Believe me, I don't have any problem with publicly humiliating myself. In fact, I get a kick out of it.
And that's what the best thing is. When you don't know anyone, act like a complete and utter moron.