Daljit Dhaliwal, Daljit Dhaliwal, Daljit Dhaliwal…

My “emergency travel documents” have not yet arrived, so it looks like I will be stuck in New York a little longer than expected. Whatever. Right now, I’m blogging away from a lounge in Columbia University, while below Sumi Das is giving a presentation on something or other.

Today I fulfilled a year long craving: I had a burrito from Chipotle Mexican Grill, my favorite fast food chain. Back when I lived in DC, I had one of these monstrous mothers at least once a week: they’re that good— and reasonably healthy, too! The shocker, of course, is that the chain is owned by McDonald’s. If I had any kind of business sense, I’d look into buying a franchise and bringing it to Toronto. It would kill!

I’ve been meeting some fascinating folks here in NYC. My burrito was had in the company of a co-owner of a new restaurant on the Upper West Side. And throughout the convention, I’ve been meeting driven, smart journos, each eager to share his/her book ideas.

Got a story to tell you. Remember Daljit Dhaliwal? Well, on a $1 bet, I went up to her and had the following conversation:

Me: “You know, ever since I saw you on Letterman, I can’t separate your persona from Letterman singing your name.”

DD: “Okay. Go ahead.”

Me: (singing childlike) “Daljit Dhaliwal, Daljit Dhaliwal, Daljit Dhaliwal…”

DD: (silence)

Me: “I guess it’s either charming, entertaining or creepy.”

DD: (backing away) “Creepy is the word.”