reason #112 why i am old

So off i go for a weekend in New York; a weekend i cannot afford and am not overly excited about. i hate driving in NYC, but i hate the idea of cramming onto a Chinatown bus with a bunch of Emerson college students who are all crazed on drama and their own gargantuan egos even more. i checked out Amtrak and the trains were 75 bucks each way and would involve me having to leave work at some weird time and probably not find parking at the 128 stop. In a fit of desperation, i even looked at Greyhound, but the tickets were expensive and the ride duration was nine hours. NINE. HOURS. those monsters should be locked up. Nobody can stand nine hours on a crummy Greyhound bus – i did 8 hours once and it almost killed me. So driving it is, and into Midtown on a Friday night the week before Christmas, leaving my car in a $30/day lot and drinking ten dollar vodkas at places that are really too fancy for my tastes. i know it fun, but like i’v should sound fun, but as I’ve said before, my youthful exuberance turned tail and ran on my 25th birthday and i’d actually rather be at home with a bottle of wine and my Katsu, looking at our stubby Christmas tree and deciding whether to watch Star Trek or Cosmos.

(to update, i did a tour de scotch last night and found it quite to my liking. rough enough to make you feel like you’re REALLY DRINKING and yet, with a little soda water, light enough so you can drink more even after jalapeno poppers calamari and a taco salad! Brilliant!!!)

so anyway, my friends, i should be back on Monday, god willing, and if I am not please alert the authorities that there may be a girl in a black ford focus lost in Brooklyn somewhere and quaking with fear. Wish me luck!!!

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