Tuesday, December 01, 2015

when tomorrow comes i'll be on my own

I am comfortably holed up in Terry's apartment in New York, where the building's heat appears to be set to 79 degrees, which is a far cry from the drafty, windswept apartment I left behind in San Francisco. Such a far cry, in fact, that I have turned on her window air conditioner - #sorrynotsorry, even if this is perhaps not an approved step to take during the Paris climate change talks. When I am scavenging in the dust of a post-apocalyptic wasteland after nuclear war with Russia, I will think back fondly to this moment.

I will also think back fondly to when I could spend an entire day sitting on a plane, reading a book, drinking wine, and crying like a crazy person - which is exactly what I did today. I got up at seven (after getting up at five and trying, without success, to tame my monkey mind until the monkey mind finally let me get thirty more minutes of sleep), showered, threw the last bits of stuff into my suitcase, made an iced coffee, and hied myself to the airport (which took stupidly long because traffic was highly unpleasant). I had just enough time to eat a v. rushed breakfast and grab a latte before boarding, but I had an exit row (entirely wasted upon me, I know), so I was comfortable enough.

I napped until after takeoff (boarding starts so ridiculously early now, and takeoff was slightly delayed, so I basically sat on the plane for an hour before we went down the runway). Then, when the drink cart came by, I bought a premium wine (a legit half bottle, for $15, which was in my opinion well worth it given that it was twice the size of a regular airplane wine bottle, exactly twice the price, and probably also twice as good), and proceeded to drink the whole bottle while reading HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE. I'm friends with the author, which feels weird and name-droppy to say since she is highly acclaimed, has won tons of awards, and is basically the coolest person ever. But she's in the group I've been doing writing retreats with, so I think it's legit to say we're friends.

Anyway, even if we weren't friends, this book was somehow exactly what I needed to read today - deep and complex and heartwrenching, but so delightful and uplifting. So I drank that bottle of wine, got another small bottle (disgusting swill compared to the premium stuff), and drank it while eating pringles. And I seriously cried through most of the book, using my cocktail napkin to wipe the tears away, which again, probably made me look like a crazy person. But again, #sorrynotsorry.

We landed before I was finished, but I grabbed my stuff, trudged through the bowels of Newark airport to the airtrain, took the airtrain to the real train station, and took a train to Penn Station. That train took long enough that I was able to finish the book, which made me happy. Then I took a subway to Terry's, where we were delightfully reunited and immediately went out for a late dinner at Ribbon, which is a couple of blocks from her apartment. I had risotto and she had quinoa (what is the world coming to, I ask again), and we had more wine, and then dessert with dessert wine, so you can guess what my liver is saying (it is *not* saying #blessed). And it was delightful to start the catchup process, although we have much more to say to each other, I'm sure, before I leave on Sunday.

However, tomorrow I must go upstate to see Kathia (remember her?), so our continued catchup will happen over breakfast before I leave for a couple of days. But I'll be back in Manhattan on Friday(ish), and you'll hear from me before then anyway. Goodnight!

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