what is it about you?

The worst thing about being in New York is that I can not get that stupid song from Annie out of my head, I just can't. Every time I even think about the greatest city in the world, I start to hear the voice of Daddy fucking Warbucks in my head, singing: "Ehhhhhhhn Whyyyyyyyy Seeeeeeeeeeee!"  Which is bad enough, but what's worse than that is when he gets into the verses about how he can't get enough of cab drivers and frankfurters answering back. Ugh. So I have to spend roughly half of my brain strength to stop myself from singing that damn song out loud.

The best thing about being in New York?

Times Square?

Putting the happy in Happy Hour?

MB and The Dowd in an Irish Pub ?

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A Broadway show?

Going to a Russian Vodka bar with my mom and sister at 11pm?

Horseradish infused vodka? Lemon infused vodka? Pepper infused vodka? Mint infused vodka?

Lapping up vodka?

Inspiring others?

Double vodka?

Self portraits in the back seat of a cab?


(not pictured)

Dinner at midnight?

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Margaritas after 2?

Central Park?

A tree being erected in Rockefeller Center while MB puts her head in a box?

I feel ya, Daddy Dub. I do. There is just so much to love, it's always an adventure and it never disappoints. Mom and Mar and I made big plans for a night in the cit-ay soon after I booked a solo trip east. I never ever go there without my kids, which means that most nights out involve mom babysitting or kid-friendly plans. This time, we had neither. MB scored us complimentary tickets to see Rain, and while we were admittedly a wee bit disappointed not to be seeing something with a plot, we were all pleasantly surprised by how much we loved this show. What's not to love about the Beatles? Especially when you splurge on several $15 cocktails that you can bring right to your seats. Don't worry, we got to keep the souvenir glasses. A whole sack of them.

Going into the city is super easy from the little lip of Connecticut where I grew up and where mom now lives. It's Metro North country, and the train is but a hop-skip-and a jump to any adventure from New Haven to Grand Central Station. On my first day there, I slept in and then puttered around the house while mom toiled away at work. I enjoyed a nice long run in the crisp cool air, and then when mom got home we got purdied up and took a stroll to the train with plenty of time to spare.  We bought our tickets, and I set my bag down to grab my phone and check email. Mom had reminded me several times not to forget my phone. I scoffed at her momliness. As if I'd leave for an overnight adventure without my phone.


I didn't have it.

15 minutes until our train.

I immediately said: "I can make it!"  Mom was dubious, but I had to try. I took off running in my purdy clothes with my purdy hair and purdy make up. In my purdy shoes. Halfway down the first block, I began to let doubt creep in, but I kept plugging along. The halfway point is a big intersection, and I was thrilled to see the light glowing red so I could gasp and pant for a little while. I started to wonder if I could get a ride, I knew I looked desperate, and I was. It's not like the train comes by every 30 minutes! Oh, shoosh.

I got to the house and bolted inside, right to where I knew my phone sat, and back out the door. I saw that I had a voicemail. Mom had instructed me to call her as soon as I had my phone, but I couldn't really breathe at the moment so I started to jog and then walked for a minute while I called her. She was all: "Did you get my voicemail?"    I explained that I had not taken the time to listen to it yet, what with the Chariots of Fire Forest Gump sprinting and all. She said not to kill myself, there was another train in half an hour. I said: "Oh no you don't, I'm gonna make it!" I picked up the pace, I had less than 5 minutes.

I spotted a car idling on the side of the road, the driver was on the phone. I'd like to tell you what happened next, but I do not want to incriminate myself if the carjacking  actually goes to trial. Let's just say that I got a ride. She was totally into it, honking at cars in the intersection and screeching into the driveway right next door to the train station. I opened the door and she said: "just RUN!" I did, whooping and pumping my fists triumphantly when I saw mom on the platform, pointing toward the light of the oncoming train. I ran up the stairs and directly onto the train, then collapsed into a sweaty, gasping, puddle of laughter next to my mom.

I told you I could make it. And the shin splints only hobbled me for a couple of days.