A Week In Tribeca

My computer is packed, I was ready to go....and my boss calls and says, "I'm going to China, can you stay for a week?"

Let me think here....hmmm...headless turkeys and being locked up behind three doors in the Bronx or an 11th floor loft in Tribeca?

It was a hard choice, as always.

But, I sucked it up, went home, packed in around 2.35 minutes and am now happily surrounded by the dogs and the sounds of Broadway drifting up through the windows. For a week, at least, I can enjoy New York during the spring. I can walk the streets and visit the parks and relax. I can order in and get food that has meat I reconise and do actual live in New York City things.

I'm so excited, I'd swoon if I didn't think I'd hurt myself.

It was a great train ride here and back... with the pure excitement of knowing I wasn't going to have to take my life in my hands on the walk home, I paid attention to my surroundings again. A nice guy sat next to me, showing me the item he'd purchased for his fiancee for DR Mother's Day. It was a camera for her laptop that swivels to follow you around when you move.

"You should get one." he said. "That way, you can keep in touch with friends and family."

I pondered that for a moment. Do I want a camera that clicks on when I turn on my laptop? Do I want to deal with making sure my hair is not in a tangle of curls on one side of my head with smudges of mascara under my eyes? What if I'm just in a tshirt? I still remember the day my daughter, HRH, walked in my room as I was getting out of the shower. The mirror on my dresser caught the reflection of me in the bathroom mirror. All I heard was a horrified "GASP!"

We never discussed it, which is best, I think.

Nah, they know what I look like...let them soften that memory and not damage it with reality.

He went on to tell me he was a security guard, and wanted to be a Marine...but, when he wanted to enlist, his son had just been born, and he knew they'd ship him right over, so, he didn't join. We ended up chatting for some time before he left on 177th. Nice kid. He shook my hand, and told me Happy Mother's Day.

The trip back here contained a few...different is a good word...riders. Cardinal HolyShit got on a stop after mine. He was dressed in the full robes of cheap satin, deep red. It was somewhat like a hooker version of a Catholic Cardinal. There was the cute Cardinal hat, a clever purse, and bare feet. He blessed us all when he got on, then sat next to me. I was waiting for him to drop silver dimes, since Limbo is gone now, and there is no further use for them. Usually, I change the train at 125th...when he got up to leave, I stayed put.

There are always other stations.

Grand Central was pretty quiet at 10P. Only two bu..homeless folk sleeping away. After speaking to a MTA employee, I found out I never had to change trains... I can stay on the 4 the entire trip, and save three blocks of walking in the future. woot.

However, with the exchange already in place, I strolled onto the 6, and sat down next to Courtney, who was going home from a party...her last one since Tribeca Festival. She was an independent producer and director, and we had a great time talking film, people, and Lindsay Lohen. I was so tickled to pass on the blind item from Cajun, without mentioning names or sources. She is working on a project to bring back roller-derby as a reality show. Everyone has a project, it seems.

We exchanged numbers, and another contact was made. It's all about contacts in this business... even so, she was a hoot, I laughed a great deal, and it made the ride down shorter and worth the trouble.

So, I'm here... I'm free for a week of my usual work routine... a paid holiday if you will. I'll putter about, re-decorate, re-organise, be thankful to work for the woman I work for... and enjoy the city I've moved to...

Right now, I'm going to watch the Soprano's. I heard a rumour Meadow dies by the end of the season.

A little rooster told me so.