(and a bit more about my departed social anxiety)
Today we strolled to Moynihan Train Hall (formerly New York’s Penn Station) and I exclaimed to hubby, “I can’t say when I’ve been happier than this…this has been the best trip!” Then I kissed his lips—slightly sweet from the kettle corn that we polished off a few minutes earlier (purchased at the the 9th Avenue Food Festival). His response was to warn me against hyperbole. But then I told him why…not only was I in the presence of my favorite fella, having just munched on my favorite snack, and earlier had a meal with my favorite little brother and my newest sister-in-law, but I this was the first time in decades that my experience was not tempered by emotionally wrenching social anxiety. I strolled through crowds, joked with passersby, shared a joke with two blue-hairs I met at Lincoln Center, and drank wine by myself in a crowd of theatergoers (at a table of strangers!!!).
We got tickets to the musical Camelot months ago…and although the Times critics panned Aaron Sorkin’s updates, we were jazzed to go. The reality of our experience was a funny, lovely musical, where I believed in Arthur, and Lancelot, and Guinevere…and cried at the end.
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| Playbill for Camelot at the Lincoln Center Theater...it was a full house... we laughed, sang a little, and both cried at the end. |
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| After leaving the show we strolled around the city before finding our hotel. Check out the building that disappears into the clouds at dusk! |
Then we met up with baby bro and sis-in-law at a fancy-schmancy seafood restaurant and dropped 3 bills on a lovely meal in a teeny tiny space with high ceilings. The meal included delectably cruel additions like foie gras and squid ink risotto. After a bottle of wine with the meal, hubby and I hit up a nearby Irish pub and watched the Lakers and Lebron get their asses handed to them. This was almost exactly the same date we had in spring 2010, but in Belltown Seattle, rather than Hell’s Kitchen New York.
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| At the 9th Avenue Food Festival, a modern day spit for giant turkey legs and skirt steak (added later) |
The following day we found the food festival and strolled its 10 blocks multiple times, planning the order and content of our next meal. Hubby decided on a half rack of ribs, and I got a gigantic cup of sliced tropical fruit, and there was Caribbean rum cake, and a family-sized bag of kettle corn, interspersed with 3 or 4 cups of strong black tea. We even traveled over to bustlingly crowdedTimes Square for a change of scenery before heading back to Penn Station to await our train. There we finished the corn, read the newspaper, people-watched, and swayed to the 80s hits that were piped in over the public address system. Did I mention all the pizza we ate (basically every meal!)?
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| Sideways photo of our first two slices of pizza, devoured 15 minutes after our arrival! |
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| Three viable modes of NYC transport: horse and trap, bicycle, and private motor vehicle |
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| Cheers to Fat Tire and Guinness draught...sorry Lakers, it was not your night. |
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