388: isn’t it romantic?
I spent President’s Day weekend in New York for a trade show. When I wasn’t talking to people about trading or scanning badges, I spent a lot of time in my hotel room at the Mariott Marquis Times Square, re-reading Jilly Cooper’s Rivals and jumping up and down on the bed. The weekend was nice, despite the fact that I was working over a holiday. But isn’t it fun to do something different for a change? I know that my idea of something different is typically sleeping late and eating mysterious food, and not standing all day in unflattering though very comfortable khaki pants, but someimtes you gotta mix it up. A few highlights from the weekend:
2/17: Flight is delayed by 2 hours due to gusting winds at LGA. I spend the delay having a drink at an airport bar with some colleagues. By the time we check in at the hotel, it is after midnight. I still go for a slice with Jeremy, Helen, and Scott though I should be getting into bed.
2/18: Work until 7pm. On several occasions I am nearly trampled by over-enthusiastic traders. By the time I get to my room for a shower and a change of clothes, most other folks are out. I head down to Maria and Clancy’s in the West Village, where I am fed shrimp grits, jambalaya, and a caipirinha that makes my eyes water. Clancy and a few pals brave a cold walk to Magnolia for cupcakes and a single serving of banana pudding that we all practically fight for. Joe and Jacinda stop by with his high school pal whose name I forget but is so very cute that I occasionally forget the girlfriend clinging to his side. Eek. Sean hung out as well, we drank some more, watched the Olympics, and had a very nice time.
2/19: Early shift ends at 2pm. I am changed and on my way to Flushing by 3:00. Dad picks me up almost as soon as I get off the 7 train — I barely have enough time to get a Chinese beef kebab from a cart on Roosevelt. We head back to the house, waiting for Joseline to come out, then Phillip. Dinner is Boston Market, where Dad talks about Uncle Richie punching one of the doctors at the hospital where my grandfather was taken for the last time. The videographer hired to record the funeral. Oh, and my grandma is moving to Chicago to live with my aunt. And my mom will join grandma for a bit to keep her company. So yes, in a few weeks I may have stories from my birthday which involve my mother embarassing me all over this fine city’s streets and precincts. Dad drops me off at the hotel after 9pm, too early for bed but too late to join the rest of the work folks for the big group dinner at Carmine’s. Joe and Jacinda come by for a bit — Isabella is not doing too well so calls are made to Jacinda’s mom and sister to inquire after her. So it’s hard to be in New York at the moment when all you want to do is be home with your dog.
2/20: Early shift, then home. I take a cab to LGA early, hoping to stand-by on an early flight. I have no luck, which means more reading in the gate area while eating salty snacks. Delicious.