Last night, S. and I ate at a restaurant called Unity. Apparently, before September 11th, the restaurant was a steakhouse, attached to a hotel in Battery Park City. After the World Trade Center collapse, it was used as a makeshift cafeteria for rescue workers. At some point during that time, somebody wrote "Unity Café" in the dust that covered all of the restaurant windows. When they re-opened the restaurant, they kept the name.

Aw.

The Unity chefs serve "Traditional American cuisine with a modern twist". One of the modern twists is the cheddar cheese ice cream that comes with the apple pie. Was I pleasantly surprised as the unexpected flavor combination burst on my tongue with mouthwatering flavor? The hell I was. It was vile.

We stayed in the hotel (as a late valentine's day treat), in a room with a view of the Irish Hunger Memorial. The path was cordoned off, because it was slippery in the snow, but of course we hopped over the fence and poked around a bit. From the hotel window, it looked silly, like a piece of ground that had been cut out like a cake and stuck up on a pedestal in the middle of the street. But once you are in it, because of the way it slopes, all you see in front of you is hillside and sky.

We started to walk around Ground Zero so we could read the posters they've put up about the history of the area, but I just couldn't take it. There is too much about the language used to commemorate the event that makes me angry, and the event itself makes me so sad, so I end up in a disturbed in-between state that is just not tenable. So we went shopping instead.