Another Life to Live... in a Monastery

On Sunday, me and the lovely Jessica decided to "do a New York" activity (as my sister refers to it) and go to the cloisters (which i at first thought was called oysters) in northern Manhattan. We ate at a lovely Dominican establishment - full with family warmth and a Dominican attitude (when i asked what is in the Spanish omelet i was referred by the annoyed waitress to the Western omelet . The museum was beautiful, mysterious, and a bit creepy. A few times i was made to feel like a naughty child by the guards because - gasp!- i touched the wall. I love the medieval (wouldn't it be fun if it was spelled medevil!) period -it so romantic...except all the dirt, disease, and discrimination (alliteration - albeit not clever alliteration - rules). I had a fantasy as a child to live in the monastery with a bunch of monks (no nuns thank you) on the pretense of being kept safe from some danger. Some romantic notion picked up from The Three Musketeers. Also i met Jessica's friend Mike who rocked - and recommended me a book that i of course forgot. One last note: the two fountains of the place are not to be missed.