Keep forgetting that I’m a finalist in Sar’s caption contest. As I haven’t even voted for myself, but once, and know everybody….though I have never actually won anything bloggingwise.
The absolute worst thing about my trip was losing my camera. Packed and repacked so many times, I think I might have left it in the room. Had it there as I had been taking early morning pictures of the pier and other morning smoggy Santa Monica sights. The physical city is perfection. I didn’t realize that you could carry more than a laptop, keys, a cell. Life’s essentials. So is a camera
I believe that the man who went to inspect my room took it. As soon as I arrived home I checked my luggage. Magical and delusional thinking comes in real handy at times. Had convinced myself that I had packed it in one of my packing/unpacking/packing rampages.
Called the hotel and was given many voice mails. Called them. Nobody got back. When I called back the last time was told that nobody had it. Bull.
I was a wreck Sunday. I spend most of my life doing things that I think of as work, though pleasurable, and much more at times as those who have read Obsession know. Photography is something I do just for me. I don’t care if it’s not perfect, I just enjoy composing photos. Sometimes they feel more personal than writing. That said I’m going to begin a photo blogger blog Courting Destiny: Pia’s New York I have a whole line of Courting Destiny books planned: Courting Destiny: stories from the blog, two memoirs and another book. I day dream big, and then put the dreams in action. Why else dream?
Monday and Tuesday I accomplished many little things. I don’t need ID in the hood because everybody either knows me or has seen me. Which is good because my non-drivers license is somewhere in my apartment, just haven’t found it.
I hated having to use my passport in California, and was going to go to the express DMV on West 34th Street, after going to B&H, the best photography store in the world.
I was going to walk but am no longer used to summer humidity, one of my favorite things in the world. It’s semi tropical and refreshes me. But I had been jet lagged, something I don’t usually feel, and didn’t trust myself though it’s only about two point five miles each way
When I got off the subway at Penn Station I saw more National Guard than usual. As my best friend works in Penn Plaza and Penn Station can’t be secured, I worry. She’s in Myrtle Beach, so obviously we couldn’t meet for our usual lunch before Macy’s or B&H. Okay, we like to look at the serious photographers in the store. But less than buying equipment
When I was nearing Eighth Avenue I heard an explosion. We all have that second of panic when we hear noises like that. Especially in a prime target area. Used to get emails making fun of the terrorist warnings. Don’t believe them, but can’t find them funny. At the same time I believe everything.
Yesterday made me think I might need to see a 9/11 movie. To take everything slightly more seriously again.
Lucia hadn’t believed me when I told her about the implosion. Now she has pacts with co-workers. Some are good: get out at every fire drill siren, etc.; one is a pact to jump out the window. Rodney Gilles, the last cop to be sorta found, his gun and shield; his mother worked with Lucia. Believe that she took early retirement.
I continued walking up the block because I really really wanted the camera. Have a New Yorker’s curiosity.
Saw a fire emanating from a manhole on West 35th Street just as three Hassidic, (Ultra Orthodox Jews) men and three Black men ran out of the store in tandem. I began to smile, because that would have been so unusual thirteen years ago. But life, and 9/11 changed everything.
Then I began to think. Did they expect the street to blow up? Fortunately some more men came from the site. It was just a transformer fire. Apparently things like that happened often when I was away. They were expecting Con Ed to black out the neighborhood. Was glad to hear this as I planned to go into the store under any circumstances
The staff was on edge but great. As I had heard it and then saw the fire start, they gave my order priority. I have never met utra-Orthodox and Hassids who flirt with women before. At the old, missed in a sick way, 47th Street Photo, they would avert their eyes when they looked at me. Think they try to be the opposite of 47th Photo.
I wasn’t on edge but decided to skip the DMV. I had a new camera and company coming over The one person I know who is in town now, Rafe.
Had to stop at Macy’s. There was a pair of silver and pink Nike’s I have been lusting after. While I am very used to the MBT’s, I couldn’t walk as fast in an emergency, and in rain, sleet, too many leaves and much more they would be useless.
One pair was left. They fit. I gave the salesman my credit card and passport. He looked at the truly awful picture where my face manages to look fat and haggard at once. “Beautiful,” he said, not in the old New York’s manner. Been so long since I heard it, I forget how I would spell it. He was without doubt a child of the inner three boroughs. Can always tell.
Then he looked at me. My hair was in quickly made modern pony tail. Discovered this summer that women over 40 can look great in them. The salesman was anywhere from twelve to 20 years younger me.
“Classy. You have the whole package.” Then he asked me what I was doing for dinner.
“Can I take you another night?”
“That’s sweet.” I smiled at him as I walked away.
This is what scared and attracted me to New York when I was young, and still can. Men can be so out there. They let you know their feelings immediately though the men I liked were usually into games, or just shy, and I didn’t realize it.
Still scares me more than a bit, but lets me know that I’m alive and kicking.
When Rafe was over last night, he tried for old times sake. I couldn’t stop laughing. Then he did.