I got back from New York City Monday night around 11:00 and have spent the last two days trying to get back in the groove of grocery shopping, laundry, and reading "If you give a moose a muffin" 500 times. That quiet French restaurant in the West Village seems a lifetime away.
If I were adding to my list of "Things You Can't Tell by Looking at Her," number 11 would be that I've always wanted to live in New York. The fantasy used to involve me as a principal dancer in the New York Ballet Company, but since I'm neither a) a ballerina or b) young enough, I've moved on from that. Now it involves me living in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, taking my girls to the Met by day and going to Broadway shows by night.
Since my mom turned the big 6-0 this year, my sister and I decided a girls trip was in order. We let my mom pick, and she chose New York. She'd never been before, so I wanted to make sure we saw everything. And we pretty much did.
Our hotel was in a great location on the Upper West Side. We were two blocks from Central Park and two blocks from the subway. If you look at a map of Manhattan, we seriously touched on every major area in the city--Central Park, Upper East Side, Upper West Side, West Village, Chelsea, Greenwich, SOHO, NOHO, Little Italy, Chinatown, Financial District. We probably walked 100 miles. Well, maybe not, but it felt like it.
I was having such a wonderful time that by Sunday, I was ready to pick out my penthouse. And then it started raining. The thing about rain in New York is that the city is all concrete and so the rain just begins puddling. Everywhere. As we were sloshing around the Financial District, making our way to Battery Park, I began having second thoughts about my New York dreams. My shorts were soaked, my new sandals were failing me as I was slipping and sliding all over the place in them, and the thought of riding the subway with a bunch of other wet people was mildly nauseating.
As were got off the subway and were walking back to our hotel, where a pair of dry sweat pants and coffee awaited, I decided I was only a fair-weather New York wannabe. The rainy days were a deal-breaker. And then I looked into a store window we were passing and saw the thing that made my New York dreams come alive again--rain boots! Rain boots in all kinds of crazy patterns and colors.
The dream lives on!