NYC...Part 1 of 2 (I hope it's only 2, jeez)

It's just as gray, dirty and less-than-impressive as I remember from my trips as a teenager. Not to be insulting, I don't mean that. It's just not the place for me.

But I can navigate the subways, damn it.

Except for that one time (not at band camp) when I had to ask a super cute MTA guy, and he thought my southern accent was so adorable that we talked for like five whole minutes. Which is forever in NYC time, ya'll. Three whole trains had gone by. People panic if they miss a train. Panic! At the Subway! Screaming and running amuck!

I also knit on the trains. Yarn bought at Purl in Soho. Mmmm.



Makes it look like I'm a native. Eleven people asked me for directions, I swear. I counted them. And I laughed, and said "ya'll do NOT want directions from me". And then they knew by the "ya'll" that I was clearly not the person to be asking.

Want the play by play of four whole days in an overcrowded city? Well, you're getting it anyway.

Thursday I arrived early (and reluctantly) as I was furiously knitting Stacy's hat and was sooooo close to being done. Finally finished as she was walking up to get her baggage an hour after my flight arrived. Checked into our hotel on the Upper West Side and took a short nap. So tired from waking up at 3 am. Went to lunch down the street and met Adrian Grenier. So sweet, and far more beautiful than TV can portray. Holy damn, green/blue eyes for DAYS. I was too shy to ask for a pic opportunity, so I just smiled, nodded, and said "hi". Damn my shyness! Damn my politeness!

Spent the rest of the day figuring out where the hell we were and where we wanted to be, then hopped a train to Times Square, shopped and got silly drunk. Went back to the Days Broadway, took another nap, got pretty and went back out for dinner and more drinking. We abused the hell out of our waiter at dinner. He kinda seemed to dig it though. And he made sure we were appropriately trashed upon our exit. Wish I could remember where we ate...oh well. I'm sure my credit card statement will remind me.

Friday was Tourist Day. We rode the train all the way to the World Trade Center stop and stood aghast for a good 20 minutes. Walked around the site and took pics. Tried not to cry. Was not successful. Sunglasses hide such things though. Made our way over to the ferry and went to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.



Eep! A touristy shot! With the obligatory strange-yet-nice guy holding the camera!


Oh, and lookie! Ancestors! Don't google me like that ya'll. You won't find anything but a wedding gown designer and a dance teacher.




Stacy and I make bad tourists. Barely any pics. And nary a moment of milling about. "Got your picture? Good, let's go find food."

Friday night SLAM! Poetry Slam that is. At the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe. So. Much. Fun. We met Ove and Queen Sheba, two incredibly gifted poets who warmed up the mic for the competitors. The 5 of us (me, Stacy, Jenna, Karen and Jen) got to judge the 4 slam competitors, and man were we tough critics. Three literature/journalism majors make a difficult crowd. But we let them all live, leaving no visible scars.

Saturday. God Saturday might have lasted forever. Shopping Day. No sitting allowed. Ever. We began in Soho at Purl.



Yarn. Yum.

Then walked over to Little Italy for lunch. More yum. Lots of street vendors and stopping to look (Stacy) and chat/text on the phone (me). Thanks Joey for the hilarious and...um...entertaining texts and conversation!! The laughter was good therapy.

Oh, but look! My favorite shoes EVER. John Fluevog. And. They have HEMP SHOES. I could die happy, and I must have some.



It got really crowded so we grabbed a train to 5th Avenue. For more shopping of course. And gabbing. This time in actual stores. We only stopped for food and beer. Mmmm.



The dark one is mine. It was a lovely chocolate-honey flavor and I almost drank it all.

That's enough for now, I'm so tired of typing.

To be continued....