Concrete Jungle

Live from New York… It’s my blog post!

So yesterday ended my trip to the Big Apple, and it was everything that I hoped it would be. I figured since my blog has been neglected the past two months, and because I want to remember what we did on our trip, I will try to chronicle our journey. This will probably be long, but whatevs, I’m writing it so I can remember too.

On Sunday morning, we took the train from Harrisburg to Penn Station in Manhattan. As soon as we climbed up the steps and onto the busy streets, I was instantly overwhelmed and amazed. The number of people walking on the streets, who will not hesitate to run into you, and the cars that will also not hesitate to run you over are just crazy. I figured since I have been to LA many times, and am practically a Hollywood Star 2006, that NYC would have the same feel big city feel to it. Wrong. I have never seen anything quite like it, the constant movement of people, and every shade of every color of skin that you could imagine. It was great. And it smelled great (most of the time) too, walking by so many different food vendors and smelling all the hot dogs, kebobs, roasted nuts, etc.

I feel like we probably walked 500 miles on Sunday, but we were able to see so much. We spent some time in Times Square (amazingly busy and looks just like you would imagine it too), walked up and down Broadway- got to see all the signs for the shows that were there, visited M&M’s World, which was three stories of M&M’s paraphernalia, and a giant wall of every color of M&M imaginable. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, saw City Hall, the Chrysler building, the Empire State building, Rockefeller Center- the flags, the ice rink, went shopping in an NBC store that had fun things from all the shows NBC produces. I loved that store, because I love TV, so it was hog heaven for this girl. We also saw Ground Zero, which I would rate a zero on a scale of 1-10. Call me a terrorist, but I just didn’t care.

We ate lots of good food- I had a hot dog for lunch, a pretzel the size of my face off a cart on the street, and the most delicious pizza for dinner. The crust was thin and delicious and we had a seat in the restaurant where you could see the brick ovens that they made the pizza in. After dinner on Sunday night, we thought we would go and grab desert and coffee or whatever from somewhere. So we went into this place and sat down, and the menus said that a cup of coffee was $6, and a cookie was $5. Hellz no. So naturally, we did the most reasonable thing to get out of the situation: got up and walked out loudly, saying things like, “Oh we forgot… I can’t believe we missed it…” Meanwhile, I was grabbing my back, in attempts to convince the hostesses I was in labor and my water had unexpectedly broken. It worked like a charm, no one suspected a thing.

After our long day on Sunday, we started the task of making our way back to our hotel, which was in Queens. Queens is a whole other New York, and really nothing like Manhattan. We had to take the subway there, and then catch a taxi back to our hotel. All was going well, Kara even gave her seat to a little Asian lady on the subway. We got to our stop, the little lady leaned over to me and said with her little Asian accent, “You tell your friend I say thank you.” I told her I would, and then made my way to the door.

Except the door was closing. With me still inside. And everyone else outside. In a wild attempt to get myself out, I stuck my foot in the door. But apparently subway doors don’t work like elevator doors, they don’t care what part of your body is in them, and will not open back up. So after prying my foot loose, and watching my friends fade away as I smashed my face to the window in desperation, I accepted that this would be the night that I died in Queens.

As the subway moved on to what I knew would be certain doom, I hear my little Asian friend as I turn around, “Oh no, no… someone help her,” she says to the train full of strangers of all different colors. A younger guy, who obviously could smell my fear, calmly told me to get off at the next stop, use my cell phone, and meet back up with my friends. This went directly against my survival instincts, which were telling me to curl up in a fetal position and soil myself in the corner of the train, and wait to die. But I decided to follow his advice, since he seemed pretty sure of it. Ten minutes (or maybe less) later, I was reunited with the bastards that left me on the subway to die.

The adventure did not stop there, as we realized we were in a neighborhood that probably could have gone by “Little India,” and we appeared to be the only ones who spoke English. It took us a little while to find a cab, and we walked in a few circles, crossing the streets and avoiding getting hit by cars, banging on the trunks as they passed and saying things like, “hey, I’m walking here.” We were naturals. We eventually found a cab, crammed all six of us into it, and discovered our cab driver really had no idea where he was going. But thanks to the power of GPS, we arrived to our Holiday Inn Express alive and exhausted.

The next day, I woke up feeling like Tonya Harding had gotten a hold of my kneecaps and performed a Nancy Kerrigan on them. My whole body was tired and sore from walking all day and carrying my backpack, and because I am out of shape. But we still had some things left to see, so we headed back out to Manhattan.

We started Monday out in Central Park, which I think was my favorite place we saw. It is so big and beautiful, and amazing to see pretty trees, green grass, and ponds with giant buildings in the background. We only saw about a third of it, but it was great to walk through and see all the different places that I recognized from movies. We also used the bathrooms in the park, and they weren’t dirty, but they were literally the type of bathrooms I have had nightmares about. The kind where the doors are way too short, and way to high off the ground, like if someone bent over, they could see you sitting on the toilet, and when I stood up to pull up my pants, I was face to face with the girl in the stall next to me. Awkward.

We left the park by Columbus Circle, which was another area that I thought was really beautiful. Oh, we also walked through the Central Park Zoo, and could see the seals laying around. Candace was disappointed that none of the animals were acting like they did in Madagascar. I guess she was expecting the zebras to talk like Chris Rock. That would be disappointing.

The rest of the day we spent in China Town and Little Italy, and looking at the amazing NY Public Library, which seemed like the entire thing is made of marble. We ate some Italian lunch in Little Italy, and shopped a little as we made our way back to the train station. On our way back to the train station, (which I should mention I was practically dragging my legs at this point and limping like the alien in Men in Black who likes to drink sugar water) we saw a little girl who was probably 8 or 9 who was obviously lost, and asking people for help, but no one was helping her. So we went up and tried to help her, but she did not speak English. Kara asked her if she spoke Spanish or French, and she understood, and said she spoke French. Which was great, but that’s all we knew how to say. But at least we established her native tongue. We told her to walk with us, and we stopped a police officer. He was actually a traffic officer, and I guess that actually means he was useless. He didn’t know how to help us, he told us to find someone who spoke French and to look for her parents. Genius. We were just asking him to call the actual police, after all he did have a radio, if it wasn’t just a prop, when the little girl’s mom found us, and said, “Merci, Merci…” Which I believe, roughly translated, means, “Thank you awesome saints for keeping my child from being abducted by a pervert, I am sorry the French usually have such bad attitudes, I will work harder not to be so elitist and stuck up. And thank you specifically, woman with the face of a child, you are the most beautiful girl of all.” I can only assume she meant me.

So that was the story of how we saved the French. And that is the end of this blog post, thanks for reading. And thank you New York for existing, and letting me walk your streets and eat your food, smell your smells and ride your public transportation. I came to New York ready for an adventure, and left as one of the weary, huddled masses. Thank you Lady Liberty.