All about New York

Leaving The Empire

I left New York on this past Wednesday, an adventure I’ll not soon forget as I keep having nightmares of rogue Realtors and landlords who keep changing their story. When I moved into Manhattan I was expecting a lot of scary things, things like cockroaches, rats and the occasional Statue of Liberty impersonator. Moving back to Boston I was expecting fresh, crisp air and friendly people interested in the common good. And lots of cream pie.

Instead of roses, sunshine and blessings, I was quickly brought back to the realities of Boston a month before the move when I had the fortune of explaining how long it should take to sign a lease and return a phone call to a rental agent. Unfortunately this also brought out the realities of my chemical imbalance, an imbalance that generally only manifests itself during extreme stress and shows itself as a roaring growl and the occasional and sometimes frequent profanity.

Subsequent to that conversation, SML and I began the long process of finding a new place to live followed by five Realtors and I can’t count the number of bus trips. Things quickly got worse as the rental market dried up, got good again for a moment and then suddenly got even worse after we lost a bidding war until finally, finally, we found a place worthy of two cats and an important green chair.

A lightning storm and a rather large tornado greeted us on our move back into Massachusetts, an omen that we should probably heed and likely won’t. We’ve shed blood, angry words and letters and threw money at our problems; and if we’ve come this far, I don’t see why a little wind and rain, or even a tornado should stop us now.

I took the above picture from the Highline Park in Chelsea just before we left New York. It was a seemingly perfect day, besides a light drizzle, and it reminds me of just how much I’ll miss that city; if not for the people, but for the view.

Eternal Happiness

During the past couple of days SML and I have been stalking this theatre trying to win lottery tickets to the Book of Mormon musical. I’ve been writing things like, “Pick Me!” and “Possum!” on the back of my entry tickets to give me an edge, but so far the results of this exercise have been dismal. I stopped breathing for a moment when they called out “Kenneth!....” and then sank my head when they followed up with a “CLARK”. What kind of name is Kenneth Clark anyway.

I listened to about half of this soundtrack on NPR when it was available a week or so ago. By far my most favorite song was “Sal Tlay Ka Siti” - a Ugandan convert dreaming of a Utopian city in faraway Ooh-tah. I think a lyric actually states, “Where all the people there are open minded...” I joke, of course, because I actually miss Salt Lake City. And not just because they have vitamin injections by the case.

Island Ferry

I took myself to Battery Park this afternoon because I’m assuming this will be the last weekend when it’s warm enough for me to leave the apartment. It’s getting awfully close to that Month of December and I’m nervous it will be even more painful than last year when I lived off of frozen burritos and delivered pizza.

Kidding. Sort of.

SML stayed at home because he’s become obsessed with going back to school to earn a Ph.D. With no one to correct my thinking and in conjunction with my new book about happiness, I spent $3.00 on a snacked-sized bag of gummy fruit. I was told that it would go towards the purchase of new music equipment at a Brooklyn high school, but I suspect it was for something much more sinister considering how many times I was blessed even after I haggled the price from $4.00 to $3.00.

Wait, did I just say SML was applying to get his Ph.D.? Where did this guy come from? It seems like it was just yesterday when he was graduating from BU and I was giggling in the corner with his parents about how it was so obvious that he was going to go back to school. “No, No, No!” was SML’s response to this but I mean, c’mon. When has SML not wanted to study instead of, um, for instance…watch reruns of the BBC The Vicar of Dibley.


The Fairy Parade

I was feeling particularly goofy when I took this picture, having just finished a walk on the High Line Park and before that, a tour of some antique shows showcasing vintage porn and expensive lighting equipment. SML kept a large sphere of personal space around himself when we visited the antique shops, citing ‘BED BUGS!’ and then often directed my attention away from any new interesting antique shops as we walked west on twenty-third street. By the time we had reached the meat packing district I had become giggly at the absurdities of New York just in time for the passing of the Fairy Parade.

Any other day I think this would have been frightening, but it so happened that I had heard about this parade. When I come to think of it, I’m not exactly sure how I had heard about this, but it goes without saying that this is probably the crowd I belong to.

Although based on the size of the red fairy’s bicep I would have to consider being rejected altogether by this group for my much smaller bicep and lack of provocative style. In fact they wouldn’t even stand still for this picture, let alone invite me into their parade, and as soon as the traffic lights had changed and the rest of the fairies had joined them, they disappeared inside a trendy restaurant leaving me alone with, shall I say, a much more handsome subject.

SML is Booging Out

Kissy Kissy

Times Square is an overwhelming place, if not for the mass of people, but for the mentally deranged who find it amusing to scream in your face. I think at some level I identify with that, the screaming at strangers just to see their reaction. Although there is some disagreement between SML and I, between the words “Identify” and “Connected.” So it is up to you whether or not I feel connected to the people who scream, or just identify with their desire to let it rip. Maybe it’s both.

I dragged SML into the square yesterday because I wanted to see this enormous statue of the famous World War II photo. They staged a “kiss-in” sometime later, but we left early since SML and I both felt apprehensive about the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz wandering the square, who just this last week is accused of stabbing someone with a screw driver.