As every fairy tale comes real
I stayed home on New Year's Eve, alone, like a nerd. Or a loser. I'm okay with either/both. Not everything can be an interaction 24/7/365. It was quiet, but I like quiet, especially since my new downstairs neighbor is not quiet. She is a slammer. Slam! slam! all hours of the night. I watched movies and cooked up finger foods and drank cheap wine and stayed awake until almost midnight and then said sayonara, sailors. A part of me feels I shouldn't admit to any of this, because it sounds sad, but A) my blog, my rules, and B) there are worse things in life than being alone (says me & Charles Bukowski). Millions of lives could be saved every day if people admitted this more often.
I've been searching for a bathrobe for years now—most are too heavy or too expensive or made for bears or monkeys—and last week I found this one at Lands' End, in a petite small. It fits. The color is advertised as "cherry jam ribbon," although in actual life the cherries resemble hearts and there is no ribbon, nor any accoutrements bearing any relation to anything that might be called jam. Unless I am supposed to "jam" while wearing it? In which case have they got the right girl!
People don't usually talk to me at the bus stop but this morning some kid must have missed the memo. He was waiting in the rain with his dad for the M11 and holding Charlie, a stuffed chicken. He was wearing a hooded Batman sweatshirt under his jacket and has a new sister at home named Lennox. He volunteered all of this to me, unbidden, with such sweet and guileless enthusiasm, and for a couple minutes after I boarded my bus (the M7), it did occur to me that maybe I've made all the wrong choices in my life.
A famous story: years ago, a very short run of Company at the NY Philharmonic coincided with a run of Capriccio at the Met. The first featured Patti LuPone, among other notables (Neil Patrick Harris, Stephen Colbert, Christina Hendricks, etc.), while the latter starred Renée Fleming. It was a very good time to be in New York City, and an even better time to have a late dinner after one of these performances at Café Fiorello, which is located directly across the street from Lincoln Center. At this restaurant on this particular night, we dined in the back at a small table right next to a larger table occupied by most of the cast of Company, including Patti LuPone. On our way out the door later, near the front, we passed Renée Fleming sitting at another small table, finishing her dinner. We waved hello and then collected ourselves in the foyer, where a waiter walked up and tossed Renée Fleming's floor-length fur coat into SarahB's arms and handed Renée Fleming's flowers to Sarah's friend Beth, imagining, I guess, that because we had waved hello to Renée Fleming on our way out the door, we were employed by her. Of course this was a weird but very exciting development on top of an already very exciting evening, although when Renée Fleming finally approached us, looking confused, to collect her coat and flowers, the only thing I could think of to say was "Renée! We got to sit next to Patti LuPone!"
Not all the choices I've made in my life have been wrong.