Many many blog posts ago I made a list of things I'm afraid of, headed by, I'm pretty sure, "praying mantises." (Because praying mantises are terrifying.) I can't remember if "New York" was on that list, but it should have been; I've been afraid of New York since I can remember knowing what New York was.
And by New York I mean, of course, the big scary city. Listen, I enjoy watching Gene Kelly cavort in a sailor suit as much as the next red-blooded girl ("But we've hair on our chests / So what we like the best are the nights"), but I am haunted by the memory of the sweet Mormon boy murdered in the NYC subway when he tried to protect his family. Yeah, I know that was 1990, and our good friend Rudy has cleaned it all up, but still. I'm scared, it's a phobia, ain't no rational response to it.
However. Despite my phobia, I have managed to brave the big scary city at least twice, for the sake of my first-born angel and her own first truelove:
(Though it all feels slightly ridiculous now, given that we have our own store just a few towns away.)
But I did not venture out into the big scary city more than a few blocks.
So . . . flash forward to, well, today! My darling pal Zanzibar, beloved college friend and one of my bridesmaids, has invited me to attend a performance of a play starring one of her actress sisters, Ms. J. Tilly! The work itself sounds 90 kinds of kooky ("Wallace Shawn plays cat and mouse with bestiality and gender in this wildly subversive new play") but also extremely interesting and cool, and I love watching Jennifer Tilly act, and also — I love love love live theater!!!
Which reminds me:
(That is the closest I came to making out with Mr. Cranston. Alas.)
Anyway, I leave tomorrow, hang out with my besty in NYC all day, we see Jen's show on Sunday, and I come home on Monday. So so so fun!!!!
Hey, speaking of live theater, Husband notes that I didn't mention our hot date on Saturday to see a simulcast performance of Tosca at the Met, which was (1) practically like attending live theater and (2) almost like being in NYC, right?
(It was also extremely wonderful and fun. These shows draw such an erudite and cultured crowd! Husband totally bonded with the dear little lady next to him; he told her he would likely weep during his favorite aria and didn't want to alarm her, and she patted his arm and said, "In my next life, I want to marry someone who weeps over Recondita Armonia," and I thought, Be careful what you wish for, dear lady, ha ha, and it was all very sweet. Tweedy Elbow Patches on the other side of me was less chatty, but he did inform me that La Boheme is sold out everywhere. Husband is now on a mission! Opera simulcast ticket scalpers, stand ready!)
In other words: Lots of excitement and culture 'round these parts!!
Oh, and I came through my surgery beautifully; breast is healing, and I'm already off pain meds. It was actually a very funny experience, but that is a story for another day.
Though I've made my peace with NaNoWriMo, which is no longer the boss of me, I will simply note this: Did not write 1,667 words today. Nor will I tomorrow, nor Sunday, nor Monday. I'm living my full, exciting life and having a very lovely time. No regrets.
Off to pack, the part of the trip I loathe. I am easing my pain with my good friend Mr. Kendall Jackson, and yes, he is helping.
—Lady C, cosmopolitan girl