Susan's Blog

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

New York State of Mind

…Don’t care if it’s Chinatown, or on Riverside
I don’t have any reasons, I’ve left them all behind.
I’m in a New York state of mind.
–Billy Joel

My time in New York was a blast, a total, no-holds-barred blast. There is no one on earth I can laugh with like my sister Laura. And beyond that, we value many of the same things, such as intense relationships, our marriages, our children’s development, and our parents. And these are what we talked about for our 27 hours together, as we walked first from Penn Station all the way to our hotel (carrying our overnight bags and pocketbooks, me in my pointy black suede boots) which was the Loew’s Regency on 61st and Park. On the way, we headed up Fashion Avenue and stumbled upon store after store of sewing goods.

We went into one of the sewing stores and found rows and rows of appliques in all different colors, just like the beaded kind you find on bellydance costumes. I have yet to find such a treasure trove in Boston. I found a pair that exactly match my favorite bellydance costume, the hot pink Hanan. My idea was to sew these appliques onto the cups for a tad more coverage. This costume is the one that is the highest caliber of craftsmanship and it fits and flatters the most of my three costumes, even more than my custom Safti, which I still love, but… So when I found this trim I realized I had a solution for making the perfect costume. And then I began thinking regretfully about my decision not to perform in my class recital…

We dumped our stuff and I changed into sneakers (yes, me, in sneakers, in public! But guess what? Sneakers and skinny jeans are de rigeur on the East Side these days.) Then we went right back out and found a pizza place. Generic New York pizza, which is several cuts above the best pizza you can get anywhere else. Big, wide slices with soft thin crust, just enough sauce, and lots of cheese. We did not talk much as we gulped down that manna from heaven. Then we took the subway down to Union Square and walked some more, to the East Village. The shops there are great! Not overly expensive like Soho or other parts of the Village. And no chains, either.

Bought a couple of interesting items; I found a frilly little white jacket with just one huge button, at a little shop called An Ren, which was filled with little jackets that were totally delightful. Then, next door, was a store just made for my men: Giant Robot, with funny Japanese animation items (a set of stickers that said, “Hello Kill You!” and Happy Mushroom, so Japanese and funny and bizarre). The whole time we were picking things up, laughing, talking about our kids or our husbands, like two bodies but one mind.

When we got tired we went to a delightful little restaurant called The Cloisters, which had stained glass windows and a garden with outdoor dining hidden in the back. We had lattes and dessert.

We just kept walking, meandering, wasting time, and realized suddenly that we never do this. In our complicated lives back home, we are always checking our watches, feeling whatever lovely moment we are in dissolve as the family obligations seep into our consciousness. But this time, we had the whole day to ourselves, with nowhere to go, except a very late dinner reservation at Tagine Dining Gallery in Hell’s Kitchen.

Eventually we took the #4 train back uptown and luxuriated in our room. There was a huge marble tub and a separate glass enclosed shower. She went into the shower, I drew a bath. We talked and joked (I will spare you our raunchy sense of humor) while we relaxed. Then we got dressed for dinner.

Walked into the restaurant and was not impressed. It did not look that different from the Middle East, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I had in mind something sumptuous. Still, it was friendly and the band was good, so we ordered drinks and settled in. The first dancer came out at around 9. She was not that good, but she did go to every table and got someone to dance with her. So I danced a lot that night. The second dancer was much more accomplished, and beautiful, too, with long black hair, pale skin, and an antique beaded top with a royal blue skirt and lots of eye glitter. I danced with her and it was a delight. Laura danced with her, too!

In between the dancers’ shows, I made a request of the band: Aziza, a song I love. The owner came over to me and drew me out onto the dance floor. I did some really good stuff: camels in a circle, hip drops, mayas. I could really think and figure out what I wanted to do. Then I got too bold, and did a spin, and knocked over my empty pomegranite martini glass. Oh well. They could have cared less, though! What great people. Everyone applauded when I finished.

(Right then I realized that I really had to do my recital in May. I had withdrawn from the class because it was just so grueling and I truly felt like the worst one in there. But it felt like the wrong decision, once made, and so today I asked my teacher if it was too late to rejoin. Of course she welcomed me back.)

By the time we sunk into bed we were crazy tired. But we kept making each other laugh until finally we just fell asleep, and slept until around 7.

Next day, I was aching from all the walking, but we were determined to do it again. This time we went to Central Park and then the East Village, and then a delicious brunch, and then back to the room for more relaxing before the trains. We packed up and took our bags and walked back to Penn Station the entire way, stopping here and there (once at the new Apple Store for Max; I bought him iPod Nano socks.) We discussed what we get Dad for his 70th birthday (May 14), and made some decisions about that.

We were tired at Penn Station, and reluctant to leave each other. A lot of hugging and kissing. A total whirlwind visit, of love, fun, and laughter. This is corny, maybe, but I really thank God for giving me a sister like that. Stay tuned for the Tabblo…

2 comments

Thanks for sharing the wonderful weekend in New York City with your sister. I love New York.

— added by Someone Said on Tuesday, May 1, 2007 at 7:25 pm

Susan

Yes, New York is wonderful, but Boston is special too. Don’t knock it.

— added by Autismlicious on Tuesday, May 1, 2007 at 8:44 pm

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