…what I learned this Labor Day weekend (a day late – sorry…I was really traumatized on Friday…)
- One should never, ever, ever, EVER, try to drive in Manhattan on the Friday of Labor Day weekend. Ever.
- Even more important, never, ever try to drive to the Berkshires from Manhattan on the Friday of Labor Day weekend. Because this is what every person who lives in Manhattan is trying to accomplish right alongside you. And behind you. And in front of you. Even if you live in the Berkshires, they won’t understand and they won’t get out of your way – even if you try to explain to them that you’re just trying to get home. Even if you are explaining loudly. And crying. Make that sobbing in frustration.
- There’s a crapload of traffic on the West Side highway on Friday at 6pm.
- The signs to find the West Side Highway are reeeaaallly little and high up.
- Do not ever, under any circumstances try to find parking in the Village unless you have someone riding shotgun with a map – or you live there. Sometimes even living there doesn’t help.
- Do not ever, under any circumstances, try to find parking in The Village if you have forgotten your map at home. Bad things can happen. We will not speak of this again.
- Remembering and actually utilizing the compass that came with your car is REALLY HELPFUL when you’ve seen the same transvest*te (in a pretty cute miniskirt if I do say so myself) twice, realize you’ve been past that same corner more than once and start panicking because everything looks the same and you can’t remember if Houston runs N/S or E/W (it’s E/W. I know this because I looked at the damned compass 85 minutes into my little adventure. The sign saying West Houston was also a pretty big clue.)
- It’s been 17+ years since I’ve been to a Civil War reenactment but the people doing them are just as nice and welcoming as the people I knew back then.
- I still feel comfortable surrounded by people in hoopskirts, corsets and wool uniforms (even if they are blue. *ahem*).
…if you hadn’t already guessed, I drove down to Queens on Friday to meet with a client. Then, in a flash of
idiocy brilliance I decided it would be a good idea to try to find The Point on a Friday evening in the Village without a map. In my Jeep. Do you have any idea how hard it is to park a Grand Cherokee in Manhattan? Next time I will take the Subaru (aka Dobby-mobile) and comfort be damned. I can say for certain that I was on the right street for about 30 seconds out of the hour and a half I drove around looking for parking. I was hoping to meet up with Marie and her knitting group but alas, after 90 minutes of driving in an octagon (or whatever – it definitely wasn’t a circle, that’s physically impossible in that part of Manhattan) I was not fit for socializing :o( Marie and I have decided that next time we will plan to meet on a street with a number – and I’ll make sure to have my map ;o)
The rest of the weekend was pretty quiet (thank God) – RR and I made a trip to one of our local county fairs and who did we run into but Elizzabetty and her fiance! I had happened to read her blog earlier in the day and saw she was going to be there so I also delivered her prize package from the Epcot question – and forgot to take a picture :o\ However, there may or may not have been a photo taken of my beloved in blue wool while certain people were trying their best to entice him into joining up with offers of letting him fire cannons and such ;o) It’s a good thing my father is retired from the biz – God help RR if Dad sees him in blue *g* (hi Dad…there was alot of arm twisting to get the jacket on him, I swear *ahem*).
Let’s see…I’ve already shown you my knitting and my spinning….ohyeah the Marco Polo box that I sent out made it to his destination!
I think that about covers it – so I’m going back to work on Eris ;o) I had to rip five rows out last night because I misinterpreted the directions. Nevermind that it was midnight…I guess that’s one more thing I’ve learned – don’t try to read difficult directions late at night ;o)