When everyone packed up yesterday and left and the street sweeper came through I thought I’d seen the end of it. I was wrong. Apparently, the 9th Avenue International Food Festival is a 2-day event. It’s weird because it’s like I’m living in the middle of this thing. If the guys outside my right bedroom window who are selling sunglasses want to play the same electronic trance song over and over and over then I’ve got no choice but to listen to it. And I can’t avoid the overwhelming smell of grilled corn on the cob and brats below my left bedroom window. Or the lure of the 10 different flavors of cheesecake across the street. And that’s only 1/100th of what’s going on down there. Ooof. I’m going to Chelsea.