Wondering if it’s about time, I started a tradition on my blog. Since traditions are meant to be started and not necessarily kept, I thought I could at least attempt one. And it’s not even New Year’s Day. *Insert shocked look*
So every Friday, I will attempt [key word “attempt”] to write a short fictional piece. It might be a short story, an excerpt, a dream I had last night [they’re mostly make-belief!] or flash fiction. Every once in a while, I might even take a jab at writing a poem. I know, crazy, right! But I just want to mix it up a little. Because, I know this might come as a shock to you [it did to me ] not everyone wants to read about my life and the madness of it all. Although, I have to admit, strange things began to happen to me the moment I came out of my tree house [my house seriously has no closets!] to tell the world I’m a writer. Well, to be completely upfront, [cuz that’s how I roll,] odd things happen to me all the time. And after the dust of ‘Oh Shnap!’ settles, I tuck my pen behind my ear and start tapping, because no one writes down things with a pen anymore, do they? And I look back at the random incident that happened and think, “Dang, that might make a good story!” Continue reading
Ventured out to the theater to see The Dark Knight Rises on Friday night, only hours after we heard of the tragedy in Aurora, Colorado. My hubby is the rebellious type. He refuses to live by fear.
We did a similar thing on the ten year anniversary of 9/11. We took the subway into Manhattan with our girls, had lunch, and played at a city park with New Yorkers. It made perfect sense to hubs. He wanted us to be close to those who were hurting, because we were hurting too. A decade later, and the memories of 9/11 still get me teared up. Hub’s story of where he stood when the second tower came down is a memory that surfaces yearly every September. Sigh.
So he wanted to teach our girls to we continue to live. And if and when someone ever decides to attack NYC again, we’re not going to sit inside our homes behind locked doors in a basement bunker. That’s just not our style. Because if you live like that, you give fear power over you. Continue reading
|Love walking around the City! Shake Shack,
we’ll come back for you next tme…fo sho!
So we started out our NYC Operation Birthday Date by driving into the city, and during our hour plus commute from Locust Valley to Manhattan, we debrief and deflate, one of the gifts of marrying your best friend. I still remember my high school English teacher Mr. Quick referring to this human gift as a “sounding board,” surely a reference to some famous poem or literature. [Will look it up when my energy supply rises back to normal levels.]
Earlier in the day, I simply asked hubby to please cooperate with tonight’s plans. It was my “Follow the Leader” after all. And after a fashion crisis (yes, guys have those too,) changing from casual to less casual shirt, and then from his runners back to his dress shoes, we are on the road, in our Honda Accord with no a.c. Hubs tried to fix it, but there must be another leak since the freon only lasted a day or two. Nothing like natural cooling with the windows rolled down and the wind blowing through your hair and the scents of New York floating into your air space. You know—that familiar combination—smog of taxi cabs, cigarette smoke of pedestrians, and ethnic food of all sorts. Continue reading
Drag hubs into the city for dinner to meet up with Chip MacGregor, my Lit Agent, who’s here among the masses attending BEA 2012 at the Javits Center this week.
“Are you nervous?” Sun asks me as we begin our battle with NYC traffic into Manhattan.
“Not really. Just want to look professional. Ask good questions. Pick his brain about the industry. And learn what else I can do on my part to become a better writer.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Did you call to make a reservation at the restaurant?”
“No.” It’s a weeknight. Surely the city that never sleeps doesn’t go out to eat on Wednesdays.
“You better call. Just in case.” Continue reading
Fortunately for you, the Anniversary date day isn’t over yet. So neither is the story. [Btw, Thanks for coming back!!]
Unfortunately, walking back to Battery Park Pier after visiting the 9/11 Memorial, lingering emotions settle like seeds blown from a dandelion. Never truly finding their home. Just accept that the memories of that day will always make me sad. Sigh.
Fortunately, we hold hands and walk briskly toward the water, excited about the rest of the evening.
As we get in line for the water taxi, hubby reevaluates our schedule. Is there still time for a spin around the Hudson River before dinner and the show? There will have to be. Because we’ve only hopped on and hopped off once and that is just not acceptable for the Hop on/Hop off Dealio we signed up for. Continue reading
I left you yesterday with a mouthful of pizza and two tix to Memphis in my purse. Sorry Spidey. Next time. Fo sho. Maybe.
So after our luncheon at Battery Gardens Restaurant, we walk off our meal with our two block stroll to the subway to catch the red line #1 train uptown to Time Square. But when we arrive at 42nd, we begin our second brisk walk over to the west side to find Pier 84.
Oh, almost forgot to mention the two very different solicitors on the train. One guy had a cardboard sign that read “Donate $1 for weed. Hey. Just keepin it real.” Okay.
The other guy came onto our train after the first stop, carrying a backpack and a guitar and sang that famous Spanish song. You know the one. “Aay yay yay yay” makes up most of the words. And he had a really nice voice. I looked at hubby and smiled. “Did you plan this?” Giggle giggle. Eyelashes batting. Hubby dropped some change in the performer’s bag. “Now that deserves a dollar.”
|FTR: I actually like Spiderman…The Movie Version!
On the way to NYC to celebrate our 14th anniversary with an all day date, Hubby practices his talk to the teens that he’ll be giving on Sunday. His topic is “How to Manage Fear.” He shares a lot of words for different phobias that are a mouthful and then talks about the difference between closing your eyes when you’re afraid and facing your fears with your eyes wide open. I listen and listen and listen. Then I interrupt.
“You’re spending too much time on defining and explaining the concepts of fear. When do we get the good part? How to handle fear? What to do with fear? And what makes sense to fear?”
“You’re right. [The heavens part open and I hear a hallelujah!…Not really, but that would have been fun.] I need to work on adding more of that.” Continue reading
Went to the city to meet up with my college roomie! Hadn’t seen each other in ten years. With husbands and kids in the mix, it only made sense to head to Central Park for a gorgeous New York afternoon of play and catch-up. What I love about Central Park is how in the midst of one of the busiest cities in the world, there’s this carve out of grass, park benches, bike paths, gardens, miniature lakes, and playgrounds that make for a perfect pit stop before diving into the next week of hustle and bustle. The West Side sandbox park was perfect for the age ranges of all our kids, and while Sarah was climbing up a stairwell, and then the railing, I heard her squeal, “I’m on top of the world!”
Got me thinking. What is it about reaching the peak or finding the end or touching the bottom that appeals to us as humans? Why do we often journey till we reach a limit?