I was really excited about blogging on the plane because myfight over totally had wifi but then I somehow ended up on a Zack Morris plane (yeah, that’s right, I just adapted the phrase “Zack Morris phone” to talk about an airplane, totally legit). I mean it doesn’t even have individual television sets for crying out loud. I didn’t even think there were airlines for which those weren’t the standard these days.
I am writing on the plane, I’m just not “blogging” on the plane per se.
Let’s try this again…
California here we come, right back where we started from
In which I eat my way across New York, meet @emanney and @LittleMsSarcasm IRL, take my pants off in public and tell a boy I’ve known for two days I’ll marry him if he builds me a working starship Enterprise. Because those are the totally normal things everyone does on vacation, right?
This was my first trip to New York since my father died that wasn’t heavily tinged with nostalgia, where I didn’t feel like at least part of it was some sort of pilgrimage and that certain stops were necessary. I did, of course, stop by the Natural History Museum because that place is fucking awesome even if I still mostly only want to look at dinosaur bones and buy things with dinosaurs on them. It’s holding steady in its tied for first as my favorite museum in the world. Yes, IN THE WORLD. Look at this stuff!
Instead of spending my week going on a journey to anywhere and everywhere I associate with childhood and my father, I decided to explore the city as an adult. I’ve always said that I want to live in New York someday, but after about two days of traveling from bakery to chocolate shop to dim sum stand I just kept thinking, “FUCK someday, I love this city, I don’t want to go home,” (and that was even before I met my internet friends IRL and decided I wanted them to be my new BFF’s. Seriously).
I think my uncle put it best with “You know, there’s just something about this city that is very much you, you were born here after all”.
I think it’s probably the chocolates.
But in all seriousness, I love New York, I love the brisk pace, the 24 hour excitement, the city covered in snow, the fashion, the food, the magic that is getting any and everything delivered. I know if I moved there I’d miss the craggy Pacific coastline; I’d miss the stars, but the Atlantic might make an adequate substitute and I’m sure, outside of the city, there’s somewhere you can lie in a truck bed and look up into the night.
Also, after about 5 minutes of riding on the back of a motorcycle for the first time in years, I realized it may finally be time to break down and get my motorcycle license. Not that I have enough money to buy myself a bike, but someday I will and I’ll start riding again, and it will be awesome. So two days in New York and I had already decided I would like to move STAT and ride motorcycles even though I’ve barely ridden since my father died. And this isn’t even the “New York makes me crazy” part of the story.
Blurgh, I just got home and something is wrong with the frickin wireless and I have a self assigned IP address and I’m too lazy to take my computer into the house and deal with this. (Read: It’s 10:08 CA time, I have no idea what time my body thinks it is, I was a participant in apparently breaking a bed last night and I don’t want to go talk to my grandparents ‘cause I’m just too damn tired) If I were in New York my internet wouldn’t be broken. ‘Cause New York is a magical land where nothing goes wrong, technology never breaks, I can eat whatever I want and not gain weight and I feel totally comfortable doing crazy shit. And there’s a cute boy. ‘Cause it’s me, and somehow there’s always a boy.
Umm. I have no focus. I'm listening to Willie Nelson and eating chocolate for breakfast and thinking too much to write, but I did have the internet working for a bit.
I can do this.
Friday night I met up with Erica, Mia and some of their friends at The Jakewalk (an awesome wine/whiskey bar). Wine and whiskey being two of my alcoholic beverages of choice, I was approaching the date with some anxiety. How would I choose? (I had no anxiety about going and meeting a shit ton of people I didn't know. I have no idea why, but I've never been more excited in my life to meet total strangers.) But there weren't many California wines on the menu and I decided it was probably more important to look cool and order for myself, so I stuck with bourbon. Mmm... Eagle Rare. (But, true to my New Year's resolutions, I stuck with a glass and then a shot in a 3? hour period. Boring.) The Jakewalk had fantastic meat and cheese platters with things like rabbit and I believe, boar sausages and artisan California cheeses. Topics of conversation ranged from why I was in New York to work to sci-fi television and I only felt like I was being mildly shy/awkward. Which for me, is pretty damn good.
The night continued for Mia/@LittleMissSarcasm, @CharlieTrouble (It's awesome that these people already have internet personæ so I don't have to make up names for them, btw. I hate making up names for people) and me at another bar back in Manhatten. There was more drinking and more talking and some arm wrestling and maybe some flirting. I got home around 3:40 a.m. with plans to meet up with them Sunday. So I'd say it was a meeting internet friends Friday night full of win.
Saturday one of my friends bussed in from D.C., we ate dim sum with my aunt and uncle and wandered the city in search of cupcakes and clothes. Cupcakes from The Cupcake Cafe proved themselves pretty delicious with REAL (not gross American), not too sweet buttercream and fairly moist cupcakes. Also:
For dinner I met up with my uncle and one of his friends at Yakitori Taisho where the Sapporo is on tap and the grilled chicken skin comes on sticks. Grilled chicken skin. On a stick. I'm not sure how I made it through the week without gaining 500 lbs, but my clothing all still seems to fit, so that's amazing. Dinner was followed by a trip to the pool hall (this is a necessary part of each visit) where my uncle and his friend with their fancy "being in a league" and "owning their own pool cues" let me play with a handicap. Except for apparently too much of one 'cause after warming up a bit I managed to win four games in a row. I forgot that when I'm not halfheartedly drunkenly playing pool I can kind of rock that shit. It was a good time
I probably should've left out the handicap part of that story so I could seem more badass.
Sunday is where things really start to get interesting.
I met Mia, her debonair lumberjack, and Charlie at a brunch place that I do not remember the name of at all so can't continue with this ridiculous amount of linkage with bottomless mimosas, screwdrivers or bloody marys to fortify ourselves for the No Pants Subway ride. (Umm, yeah. Somehow in the last week I became the type of person that agrees to take their pants off in public. I'm not sure when or how that happened, but it was pretty epic.) I was sitting there at brunch thinking "Man, I like these people a lot, they're totally not helping me get over the whole 'I don't want to go back to California, I would much rather just stay here' thing".
I also may have had the following internal dialogue
"Charlie, is cute and funny.
Yeesh, stop looking at Charlie.
No now you're awkwardly looking away while he's talking, that's weird.
Remember, you're an eye contact person.
Oh my god, stop being such a girl, you're leaving to go home tomorrow anyways, it doesn't matter".
So not only have I decided to move to New York, start riding a motorcycle and take my pants off on the subway, I also found a boy to totally crush on.
Dear New York City, i can haz my rationality back plz? kthxbai
(Wow, how much internet slang am I using in this post? Also, parentheses.)
So, no pants subway. A surprisingly not self conscious experience. I think I just figured between my coat and boots I was mostly covered and that there were probably people with more unattractive legs than me. It was pretty damn awesome.
Ending at Union Square, notice the folks in the background.
We then got the rest of the folks who had been in our train car to meet up with us at the bar we had been to Friday night. Nobody even said anything when we walked into the bar pantless. I'm now friends on fb with people that I only met because I decided to go on the train without my pants. Fucking awesome. It was buy one, get one free happy hour, so I think it's safe to say Sunday was a bit of fail on resolution #3.
Also, let's just say being pantless and full of booze with a boy you've been flirting with all day is not a good idea if you don& #39;t want to accelerate the "please kiss me" process to a ridiculous degree (which totally breaks the non-parenthetical part of resolution #9).
But nice girls don't kiss and tell. And I'm totally a nice girl and did not allude to marriage or breaking a bed earlier in this post. Not at all. Maybe nice girls just think the rest of that evening deserves to be a separate post if it's going to be written about in more detail. (Which it may or may not be. I'm feeling both a bit giddy and self conscious about the whole thing at the moment.)
Anyways, the moral of the story is, if you find a boy that even jokingly claims he can build the starship Enterprise, you should snap that shit up, 'cause how often does that happen?
And I still can't believe that I'm back in California.
He should probably get on building the transporter first.