100 Questions

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
I have a tiny scar over my left eye. It was the first scar I've gotten. I was very young, two or three, and pestering my cat who had enough of me and scratched me. At the time, I was very upset when Mum said it would scar, but I appreciate it a lot now.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
A portrait of us I drew, the goosen Laura gave me for XMas a couple years ago, a shot of King's Chapel.

3. WHAT DOES YOUR CELL PHONE LOOK LIKE?
Samsung u740. Black and has a full QWERTY keyboard

4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LIKE TO LISTEN TO?
Everything.

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
3:25am

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
I don't even know anymore.

7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
Everyone in Boston and being on my own. Also: having my own money.

8. WHAT IS YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION?
My grandmother's ruby ring.

9. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SMELL?
The ocean

10. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
Very infrequently

( Moar! Moar! Moar! )

The New York Trip

Woo, finally I am not too tired to update.

We left here at 8am on Friday to drive down to Jersey. There was leaving drama and I had a glorious panic attack in a rest area in Connecticut, but things straightened out after that. We made really good time until we hit Newark and then, promptly, got lost. Very lost. In the crappy, industrial section.

And, of course, Steven turned into my father and had to ask directions down some little side street, in a hole in the wall business. Our hotel was apparently in Brigadoon, because we'd driven past it three times before we finally found it. And we just missed an accident that involved a FLIPPED JEEP and all parties standing and screaming at each other.

It reminded me of all the warm, fuzzy memories I'd had from going to Cliff Side Park as a kid. Welcome back to Jersey. It even still smelt the same... like sulphur. Mm.

We had a prison shower in our hotel room, which was the approximate size of a postage stamp and the alleged internet? Didn't work. I had to gank someone else's connection to get any kind of info and Steven had to go to the main office for there internet, so we could even get directions.

Then I died because the last thing I ate was a doughnut at 10am.

We went to Perkins, ordered, and realized we did not have enough time to eat properly. Snarfed food, left the waiter a great tip, and headed for Bayonne where someone my father knew lived and I had the nagging deja vu. Turns out, we were not late and I am still capable of remembering how to properly dress for church, heathen that I am now.

Finally had a chance to see Nicki! In Person! right after. Her dress was gorgeous. They had hired a Drunk!Bus to take us all into the city, which was a very good thing. Piled onto that, spent the trip in reminding Steven of all the spots that I remembered from SVU, to his dismay, before they dropped us off at Tavern on the Green.

That place is like a maze. We were in the Garden Room, way in the back, which involved weaving through the rest of the other areas and past another private party. They had two bars set up and appetizers like whoa, to the point that one of the other guests and I were all, oh yea, this is dinner. Very nice!

And then, I drank, a lot. Jack with lime, champagne, wine, cosmos, something else... A lot. Because that's what I do.

We sat right by the dance floor and Nicki set us up with a great table, which is always a paranoid fear of mine: to be at the table where NO ONE TALKS. This has happened at a few weddings we've been to. But this was not the case. Dinner was either filet mignon or salmon. I opted for the former since the engrained New Englander in me does not trust anyone outside of this area to properly cook fish. It's a shame I was so stuffed from eating appetizers, because dinner was fantastic, as was her cake.

And we danced. Took a few pictures, danced more. Took the bus back, backtracked to Newark, and finally made it to the hotel around 2am. Very, very sober. I blame too much dancing because I know I imbibed enough to at least be buzzed. Instead, I popped a couple of vicodin and cursed at my knee for a little. Oh, and seduced my husband because that's ALSO what I do.

We dragged our sorry arses out of the Econolodge about 15 minutes before check-out and headed into the city. Despite rumours to the contrary, NYC was not a hideous bastion of robbers and murderers just waiting for me, at least not in Manhattan. Unfortunately, what was there was Monsoon Season and the skies opened up as soon as we stepped out of the car.

That forced our hand and we had lunch at Tasty Cafe at the corner of 71st with its FREE WIRELESS INTERNETS! It was both tasty and reasonable and we were able to outlast Monsoon #1. We started aimlessly meandering towards the Empire State Building when the second monsoon arrived. After nearly killing myself 43 times by slipping on things, we ducked into H&M so I could obtain appropriate walking shoes. I am wearing them now, little grey Keds-style with white and grey bones and pink dots. Very cute and under $13.

I saw the following things: Times Square, Grand Central, Penn Station, Empire State Building (which my inner cheapskate refused to pay for), Chrystler Building, Broadway/42nd Street... Steven insisted we also partake in one of the many papaya and hot dog places.

Maybe someone on here can answer this: why papaya juice and hot dogs? Also onions in red sauce?

I did not eat street meat, sadly, though I wanted to. I also did not partake in the nut guys, either, to my eternal dismay.

We ended up walking down to World Trade Plaza and Battery Park. Steven hadn't been to the footprints and I eschewed NYC, so I'd only see them on telly. There were a million people taking photos and gawking, but honestly? I wasn't willing to take a photo. It seemed so ...mundane... It looked like a lot of the big construction projects that I'd seen. I couldn't wrap my mind around the awful thing that happened there. And as I had no visual basis for them, I couldn't picture What Had Been.

It wasn't actually till we arrived at Battery Park, where Koenig's Globe from the centre of the plaza was that I could get a grasp on what was. I will say that had an impact on me, much like how visiting the Holocaust Museum in DC at 13 made real what happened then.

From there, we went to the Staten Island Ferry Building so I could take a photo of Liberty Island, which I also would not pay for. Knee announced that it had enough and we headed back to the car.

But first, we had pastry at Tasty Cafe again. And I used their internet to email our friends in CT who we were visiting after. My brownie was good, but not amazing like it looked.:(

And then, we tried to leave. Drove through Central Park, fine, found FDR Parkway with minimal issues. AND THEN, Steven decides oh, we'll take Bruckner Boulevard out. And this is where the story gets fun.

We're driving vaguely towards 95N and I start seeing more tenements. Ok, fine, kind of looks like Dorchester. Then we take a turn and I saw it.

So I turn to Steven: "We're not in a good neighbourhood."

"Oooh, no, it's fiiiiiine."

"Steven, THAT CAR IS HAVING ITS WHEELS STOLEN RIGHT NOW IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!"

"They're helping."

"BULLSHIT!"

Soon as we hit the end of the street, we see flashy lights and sirens coming to where the nice gentlemen were changing tires. Vindicated.

We arrived in Rocky Hill to visit our friends around 8ish. Had really good pizza with them and gelato, before heading back to socialize. We hadn't seen them in person since our wedding, so it was nice to catch up. We had brunch with them the next morning before making the slow trip home.

And we were exhausted.

It was a lot of fun, though, and we're definitely planning on going back again when we have a little extra cash, probably once my job kicks in. I hear rumours we might try to catch Nick Cave when he plays in October, which would be quite fun.