It’s the Wednesday after Spring Break, and I’m missing New York City terribly. I’ve had a lot of questions about the trip, and I definitely want to answer those inquiries. But the reality is that I’m much better with the written word because I’m easily distracted and tend to chase rabbits. What begins as a recap of my day ends in a rant about people at Wal-Mart. Speaking of which… wait, no. Sorry. Back to my trip.
Because I’m obviously the most intelligent girl on the planet, I booked a 6 am flight. Which really wasn’t all that terrible because I was NYC-bound and nothing could rain on my parade. Plus, my flights weren’t fully booked, and the icky middle seat was left vacant (hallelujah!). I could go into a parable about how my life as a middle child relates to that, but I’ll spare you.
I had a three-hour layover in the Baltimore airport, but I made friends when I advised a guy considering dreads that his facial structure and complete lack of social skills would make that hairstyle a terrible decision. OK, I didn’t say anything about his personality, but he caught on to where I was headed. So, all in all, the layover wasn’t the worst I’ve ever had unless you count the insane jealousy I had over a girl’s tiny ankles. I had total ankle-envy, y’all. Which might sound weird, but let me tell you why. You see, when I fly or ride in a car for an extended amount of time or essentially just sit too long, my ankles swell to the point where it could easily be assumed that Roald Dahl was referencing them when he wrote “James and the Giant Peach.” It’s truly awful, and, of course, they were swollen to an embarrassing size. And to make matters worse, I decided to WebMD this ailment on my long layover and promptly diagnosed myself with acute liver/heart/kidney failure. So, that was fun.
The final flight went well. I sat next to a girl who was a total b-word, and, of course, we became friends. I like sassy people. And the flight attendant comped us some Bloody Mary’s because I think he was really digging on our milkshakes, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was totally spazzing out about being only 45 minutes away from the city of my dreams. Nothing at all.
I arrived in NYC and found my driver (fancy) no problem. His name was Chih-Fa and from Taiwan, and that’s about all I understood.
Jessica met me at her apartment, we dropped off my stuff and went to the subway. I bought my MetroCard, and it was the BEST investment of the entire week. Jess went back to work while I went to Macy’s to get a new pair of shoes because, while they are too-die-for adorable, my Steve Madden loafers are not kind to my feetsies. But the new sequined Sperry’s I bought were much kinder! As were the new Steve Madden canvas “Eltonns” I bought.
After work, Jess and I walked the first billion of the 4 billion miles I would walk over the next few days and found a cute Italian place for supper. After I demolished a basket of bread and then a plate of chicken marsala, we went home, and I passed out.
I woke up to aching, blistered feet but less swollen ankles (you take what you can get). I spent the day with Jessica’s roommate’s, Ramzy, sister and friend, Reaghen and Cassie. After an excellent breakfast at The Manchester, we went and picked up mine and Jess’s “RENT” tickets and then traveled to Greenwich Village to scope out some celebrities. We only saw one (we think).
If the picture on the left seems like it’s poor quality, it’s because I was sitting at least 15 feet way from him and had to sneak-attack him with my iPhone camera. Duh. Seriously, you people have no idea how to properly stalk someone and still maintain your dignity.
That night was “RENT”, and let me just say that just because I’ve seen the film adaptation of this play doesn’t mean I had any idea what it truly was. My final verdict is “great but shocking.” If you have a low tolerance for shock-value, profanity, and sexual situations, then you should see “The Lion King.”
I was on my own for most of this day which was a good thing because my feet were DONE. I took it easy and went to Toys R Us, the Disney store, and Forever 21. Then I went and had coffee with a friend way back in the day, Mr. Byron Bradshaw, and carted my exhausted butt back to the apartment. In hindsight, that was the best decision I made all vacation. My feet needed to recuperate.
That night Jess and I went to a prayer meeting at her church and had some incredible Jesus time. It’s so good to have those moments with a friend that knows you personally and spiritually. I left feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. And then I threw down on some Goodburger because I love to eat post-cry/Jesus time.
After we hoofed our way to a theatre where the precious Chris Lowell was doing stand-up, but we didn’t see him. Which is probably a good thing if I wanted to avoid getting hit with a restraining order on this trip.
Jess took the day off to spend with little ol’ me, and I was stoked. We went to SoHo and did what we do best – SHOP. I finally got the Longchamp bag I’d been pining after for years.
Next we went to Kate Spade (!!!!!!!!!!) and bought iPhone cases because I just didn’t have a kidney to spare for the money needed to get a handbag.
That pretty much exhausted our day and then Jess left for her church retreat. I spent the rest of my evening with the lovely Ramzy, and we had the best time chatting over Thai! Which I love, by the way.
Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I stayed up all night before my flight thinking “I’ll just sleep on the plane and be fine.” Yes, I did sleep on the plane, but, no, I was not fine. I don’t operate on very little sleep. My whole body was shaky and anxious, and I felt like I had been hit by a bus. To make matter worse, both flights were booked solid and full of yapping dogs and screaming children. As if I needed another reason to never reproduce, the screaming six-year-old in the front of the plane singlehandedly shut my uterus down for business.
In conclusion, if anyone would like to contribute to my NYC fund, that’d be super.