Smoke and Mirrors

Been a while...

... yeah, I know. I get out of the habit. Plus, I have digital cable. And there are Buffy reruns on FX every night. You see how it is.

Let's see... three weeks ago, Claire and Josh came to Boston to visit me. They were supposed to visit in September, but I came down with the flu the night before, and spent that weekend in bed with a fever, chills, and general misery instead. Fun! So, they rescheduled the visit for October, and made me get up early on a Saturday to go in and meet them in the city. I got there mad early -- I had planned on the T being slower on a weekend -- so I wandered around Downtown Crossing and shopped a bit beforehand. In one store, I called a security guard an idiot -- she had been standing in the doorway hurling insults at a group of people walking around carrying signs and handing out leaflets about vegetarianism. I'm a carnivore, myself, but I have no problem with people spreading the word about something they believe in. It's not like they were hurling rocks at people or anything. But the security guard thought it was the height of fun to taunt them and make fun of them, which pissed me off, so as I walked out of the store I paused, looked at her, and, smiling sweetly, said "You're an idiot." She gaped at me as I walked away.

Claire and Josh were late (I could have slept later!) so I bought a couple of CDs (it was their fault) and then sat on the steps of the Park Street Church and people-watched for a while. It started pouring very suddenly, torrents of rain, so I ducked under a balcony and watched pedestrians scrambling for cabs and subway entrances. Josh and Claire showed up just as the downpour tapered off, and we set off in search of lunch. (J. and C., incidentally, are a terribly cute couple -- and I take full credit for it! I played yenta for them in 3WA chat, you see. I'm fully expecting them to return the favor for me one day soon.)

I had agreed to let the two of them feed me sushi, as they both love it. It was still drizzling when we got to Boylston Street, so we ducked into the first sushi restaurant we saw -- it was downstairs, accessible by tile stairs. Tile stairs that, when rained on, get very very slippery. This resulted in my wiping out on my ass and falling gracelessly down the stairs. I should have sued, or demanded free lunch, or something. We sat down (me nursing my bruised bum) and ordered, and I soon learned an important thing: I don't like sushi. I like the little rolls, the kind that have a great big hunk or rice in seaweed with a little smidge of fish in the middle. Those I could eat at every meal. The big chunks of fish? No. No no no. Intimidating, and I couldn't get past the texture. I did worry down one piece, and it tasted good, but the texture... no no no. Can't do the sushi. I felt bad -- I wanted to like it!

After lunch, we went to the top of the Prudential Building and wandered around the Observatory. I hadn't known it was still open -- I hadn't been there in years. The Pru is my favorite building, so it was much fun. As we walked in, the sun was coming out, and there was a rainbow arching over the city -- Claire got a picture of it. Very pretty. After the Pru, we bought candy (jelly beans!) and wandered back outside. After a stop at the Boston Public Library's booksale (many cheap books, and rude staff! Woo!) we headed to Faneuil Hall, where I got some food (the sushi didn't last long) and Claire got cheesecake, and we poked around in many shops -- Claire and I were continually distracted by bright shiny things. At around 6, we headed off to MIT, where we were meeting Lee, Patrick, and MuppetGirl at a talk given by Harlan Ellison, Peter David, and Neil Gaiman. I was excited, being a great big slobbering Neil Gaiman fan. He's all cute and British... ahem. The talk was fun -- even though it was mostly Harlan Ellison calling the audience idiots. Neil read an excellent poem, and an even more excellent story. Then I got a migraine (I think I'm allergic to online journallers -- I always get migraines around them) and had to go lie down on a bench near the bathrooms, and then we all left. That bit is hazy -- I couldn't see very well, and the medication makes me woozy. Josh and Claire headed off to the T, to go get their car (I felt bad about not being in a better state to see them off) and Patrick and Lee and I went to get some food. Then, I went home and collapsed into bed.

This past weekend, I went to Vermont to see my mom... but as it's now 11:20, and I promised myself I would get to bed before 11 tonight, you'll just have to wait for that...

New York, New York...

Last Saturday morning, Patrick and Lee and I piled into the car and headed for New York. Kymm was directing the show Patrick wrote and directed last year, Statics and Dynamics, and we wanted to see it on its final night. Plus, I had never been to New York, and really wanted to go, in spite of... well, you know. So. I dragged myself out of bed at 8:30 a.m. (on a Saturday!) and got showered and presentable. Patrick, because he is mad, got up earlier than I did and went running. Lee arrived at 9:30, and we were off -- stopping multiple times at McDonald's for bathroom breaks and food, and to swap seats, so Patrick and I could take turns sitting in the front. We got to New York in the early afternoon (I have completely forgotten what time) and found a parking lot right near Times Square. We really didn't have a plan as to what we were going to do -- we needed to get in touch with Kymm, and Patrick was trying to reach a couple of people to meet up with, so we stood in Times Square and messed around on cell phones for a while. It was so loud that Patrick couldn't hear his ringing, and Lee could barely hear hers, so we missed a few calls from Kymm. I called my mom, because I felt left out of the cell-phone madness, and because I am a dork. She answered and I yelled "Guess where I am??" See, a big dork.









Once the cell-phone difficulties were worked out, we set off wandering around. We sort of wanted to go down by the WTC site, just to see it, and to... pay respects, I guess. We bought maps (mine has a photo of the Twin Towers on the front, which I didn't notice until later) and saw that the Empire State Building was closer, though, so we headed off in that direction instead. We stopped along the way at Sephora and bought Demeter colognes -- Patrick introduced me to the joy that is Ginger Ale cologne (it even smells fizzy!) so I grabbed a bottle of that, plus a bottle of Gin and Tonic (which might not be the best thing to wear to work...) Patrick bought a bottle of Ginger Ale for himself, and he and Lee each bought a bottle of Angel Cake, too. Money well spent, we set off toward the Empire State, only to get lost on what seemed to be the very block it's on. We couldn't find the entrance. We looked up, and couldn't see the building, either! Lee said it must have hiked up its skirts and scurried away from us yelping... either that, or we are loser tourists who can't find the tallest building in the city!

Kymm called as we were wandering around all lost in the streets, and told us to meet her at Saint Patrick's Cathedral, many many blocks away. We hailed a cab, and headed off down 5th Ave. to meet her, with me pressing my nose to the window to see landmarks all the way. (Did I take pictures of them all? No. Why? Because I am a dork. Lee took good ones; I'll have to convince her to provide photos for a later entry.) At St. Patrick's, there were crowds of people milling around, all in fancy garb. I think there must have been a wedding about to start, and there was some sort of ceremony just letting out -- men in long white robes with red crosses on them, and women draped in black, with black lace veils. They all seemed too cheerful for it to have been a funeral, so I have no idea what it was. Patrick bravely ventured into the crowds to look for Kymm, who (of course) appeared behind Lee and me as soon as he walked away.

The first thing I must point out about Kymm is that she's a great big pants-on-fire liar. She says the restuarant she took us to was just a couple of blocks away. She fibs! It was many, many, many blocks! Long blocks! I don't have a car, people. I walk everywhere. I like walking. Long walks do not faze me. This was a LONG walk. A long hungry walk! A long, cranky walk! But I did like walking up 5th Avenue and gawking in the store windows. I liked the people-watching, and the city started to grow on me to the point where I was almost thinking "Yeah, I could live here."

The restaurant we went to was a diner-ish type of place called Vinyl, with terribly cute waiters, a collection of musician dolls (I had no idea there was a Captain and Tenille doll set. How frightening!) and the menus were in old record sleeves. The food was lovely (especially after walking 800 miles to get it!) and we had much fun talking. Andrew, who was among the friends Patrick had been trying to reach, arrived just after we finished eating, and we all headed off to Central Park. I've read Andrew's journal for a while, as he's a fellow librarian and all. He's also very sweet, and has a lovely accent.









In the Park, we found swings that are perfect for adults! They are high enough off the group that you can sit on them without your feet dragging underneath, the seats are large enough for adult-size bums, and the chains are super-heavy-duty industrial strength, so as not to break and cause people to fall off and break hips and such. We played on the swings for ages -- in spite of the risk of the aforementioned hip-breaking, or seasickness, etc. Eventually, we were lured off the swings (Patrick had to threaten to leave me behind, and count to five, to get me to stop... hey, it was fun!) and we headed off to yet another restaurant to meet up with Josh, Byrne, Cindy, Tracing, and Amelia (who is a fellow 3WA poster, but who sadly has no journal of her own) before going to the show. There was much talking, a bit more eating, lots of laughing, and then off to the little theatre for the play! I had seen the show twice before when Patrick directed it, but it was interesting to see it with different actors, and a different director. I liked it both times around -- I don't think it would be possible for me to dislike anything Patrick writes, though, so I'm no critic. I was very tired when the play ended, and, while sad to be saying goodbye to people, I was glad to be headed for the car, where I knew I would fall asleep almost immediately. Kymm did manage to get me into the Sanrio store in Times Square, though, where I bought a Badtz-Maru bag for work... more money spent, we went back to the car, dropped Kymm off at home, and headed home ourselves. I dozed off and on all the way home -- it's a good thing Lee had someone else to talk to, as I am useless on car trips.







Unfortunately, I can't read what this sign says now. If anyone knows it, let me know? I remember snapping the picture because I really loved what it said. Hmph.

I was glad we didn't get down to the remains of the WTC (I can't call it Ground Zero. I can't use a catchy nickname like that for it.) Part of me really wanted to, but... Lee said that it made the trip seem more normal, like just sightseeing, and that was probably good. But the skyline... if I hadn't known better, I wouldn't have recognized it. It looks all wrong. And, when we went over the bridge (I don't remember which one) and stopped to pay the toll, you could smell it. You could smell the burnt smell, the smoke, and... over those smells, there was a sick, sweet, corrupted odor. It took me a second to realize what that smell was. And then I didn't really want to see it anymore -- I wasn't sure I would be up to visiting such a big grave, because how do you pay respects to something like that?