Dance, nails. dance.

Whenever I hear people refer to Manhattan as “The Island” I can’t help but think of that sci-fi flick with Scarlett Johansson from a few years ago. There was a period where I was obsessed with the film (purely because i had an affinity for white Velcro Pumas at the time) and made all my friends watch it when they came over. Most of them left shortly after.

But nonetheless the island that is New York City (unlike what I conjure up when imagining islands), has no use for coupons. Tonight while grocery shopping with Ben at Jubilee I remembered about the tinfoil yogurt lid I was lugging around. $1.00 off. Proudly I whipped it out and placed it infront of the cashier, next to Ben’s credit card.