Holy gigantic city.
I suddenly feel the need to type like a 13-year old girl. OMG – NYC is like, sooooooo khool!!!
This morning, Heidi left early for work, leaving me on my own to navigate my way from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Armed with nothing but a little map and a few notes she had left me with important intersections and subway transfers, I set out to conquer the City.
On the elevator ride down from Heidi’s apartment, a small, balding, greasy character stepped in. I could feel him staring at me, so I stared at the floor. But curiosity got the better of me, so I lowered my eyelids in a slow blink, and when I opened them again, I was looking straight at him.
“Hi Jen,” he said.
“I’m not Jen,” I replied.
“You’re not? But I wrote you a letter and slipped it under your door last night.”
“Oh. I’m not Jen.”
Long, long silence. Long, long elevator ride. I decided to ease the tension with a question.
“How long have you lived in the building?”
He got very excited. “Since 1995. That’s 12 years.” That’s right, Trigger. “And if you put 12 over 100, that reduces to 3 over 25.”
I calculated in my head, and determined, “Yeah, that’s right. Wow – you’re fast.”
“I know. It’s what I do – I reduce fractions. I can do it more quickly than anyone else I know.”
Once again, I attract these people. I’m kind of glad that I do – my life might be boring, otherwise. I would have to pick up some weird hobby, like squash or, God forbid, rubber stamping.
Today was so great. I grinned for the first two hours or so, shielded from the cold by my puffy jacket and boots, walking and walking and walking. My knee held up just fine – save the trips up and down the stairs to the subway. I’m out of Band-Aids, so… we’ll see how it looks tomorrow. Right now, it just feels hot. If I get gangrene and die, please donate my organs.
To be honest – and honestly vain – I was nervous about the whole “fashion” issue of New York. I don’t own anything “in” enough to wear here – or so I thought. It turns out that I had a false image of New York – one fueled by images of Paris and Nicole and LiLo. The actuality is that people where whatever the hell they want, from a coat with jeans to a sari with a hoodie. And after experiencing today’s frigid air, I didn’t care what I was wearing, so long as it included gloves.
Times Square is like Disneyland on steroids. An absolute assault on the senses, I am happy that I saw it… once. I don’t really feel the need to see it again, unless, of course, it included another trip to “The Lion King.”
I had the most awesome seat for the matinee show, probably because my request was, “Just one. Yes, I’m here alone. Because I’m single – probably forever. It’s okay though – cheaper Broadway tickets, this way.” And from the opening lines of “The Circle of Life,” I was this emotional puddle. I cried and cried – the entire production was SO BEAUTIFUL. I do not have words for it, so I will not even try. The only thing I can say is that there is something so incredible about seeing people doing what they were meant to do – and this entire production was done so well. If you ever get a chance, please go see this show.
Heidi and I met up with my buddy from high school, Reid, and his friend Zachary, for dinner. We ate delicious Thai food in Greenwich Village, and then went to the Dessert Truck for $5 desserts. Reid got a hot chocolate that was basically liquid hot fudge, and after one sip, I think I could be satisfied for the rest of my life.