Bagel me good

Since it's my first morning here in New York City, I knew exactly what I wanted for breakfast. 

Bagels and schmear. New York's, ever-so-slightly-less-healthy alternative to my regular breakfast of champions

I'm staying with my lovely friend Kelly in the Park Slope neighbourhood of Brooklyn, so bright and early this morning I dragged my jet-lagged little self out of bed and to the nearest bagelry. (Which may not be a word, but should be.)

Options! Colors! Schmears! I went for the onion bagel with the sundried tomato cream cheese, two things I'm relatively certain you can't find in the UK. Gosh it's lovely being here. Warm weather, a sunny day ahead, more friends to visit with ... what's not to love?

There's kind of a strange feeling to being back in the U.S after nearly 8 months since my last visit. It's all familiar enough, but there are little touches that tell me my reflexes have changed. I'm looking the wrong way when I cross the street, for example. Or I'm having thoughts of, "Hey! Someone else with an American accent!" when, duh. I suppose thoughts like that are common enough for expats.

I've just finished wolfing down my bagel, and I'm ready to face the day. One bagel down, many to go.