Plans to meet Candice Bushnell were thwarted by my dogged refusal to follow instructions. I don't know why I even bother asking for them because something gets switched off in my brain and while I hear them clearly enough, I can't retain them. This came to a frustrating head last night when I wanted to meet the writer of Sex in the City who was reading from her new book at Barnes and Noble. I thought the instructions were easy - up 30th street to Park avenue until I see B&N. The long and short of it is that I didn't get it right and found myself on the opposite side of the city. With my evening plans ruined, I trudged the streets aimlessly searching for something as exciting as Carrie Bradshaw. After a quick shopping break at Old Navy (golf t-shirts on the sale rail were just $6), I found myself in a dodgy part of town where cars seemed to sleep at night in three-story contraptions. There was a bakery advertising itself as the Best Cheesecake in New York just behind Madison Square Gardens which caught my attention and for $2.50 it is probably the best cheese cake I've tasted too. It looked like a fridge cake but tasted like a baked one. Heading to the adjacent Penn Station  next door, the smell of pizza called. The Pizza Hut was empty at around 8pm but one just called Pizza was buzzing. The first mega slice I had ($2.80 per slice) was chicken and not especially tasty but as I still had lots of diet coke left I ordered another slice this time with pepperoni which I've not tried before. What I especially liked about the pizza was a soft crunch factor - kind of crisp shortbread. V good.