New York was GREAT. I loved every minute of it, up to and including the torrential downpour on Thursday night that stranded us in an endless cab line and left us hunting for umbrellas in order to make a dinner reservation for which we were already late. I loved every thing that made NYC different from Boston. My first morning there, I woke up to an overwhelming anxiety attack over being in a city that big. But then I forced myself to remember that I’ve lived in cities that were bigger and lived to tell the tale, so I got myself out of the hotel room and realized that all I wanted to do was walk. I wanted to get lost and discover all the wacky things that pop up when you round a corner, to lose myself in the crowds and remember that there is an enormous power in anonymity. I tried to count the number of Starbucks and Ann Taylors in Midtown but got too distracted to keep an accurate list.
Gimp came into town on Friday and we spent most of the day lounging around a table in Bryant Park, soaking up the sun and people watching. If you ever find yourself near Bryant Park and you have to pee, they have gorgeous, $20 million public bathrooms there that are actually pleasant AND clean. Megan suggested I go stalk Tim at the Parsons School, but after having way too much wine the night before, Bryant Park was all I could muster the energy for.
Friday morning we went for a walk up Madison and found….the Pussycat Dolls. No, they weren’t hooking in Central Park—they were performing in front of the Apple store, surrounded by a very small crowd of people who had to be persuaded to scream, even when the Dolls gyrated so hard that I thought their hair extensions were going to fly off their heads.