In which Annie realizes that this time next week she’ll be in the Big City.
***Skip down to three stars for the knitting content.
Woot! T minus 6 days and counting until I escape Louisville and head to the Big Apple for five and a half days. True, I’m going for a conference, but my mother is going to meet me at the hotel (on Avenue of the Americas between 53rd and 54th…the heart of Manhattan, right?). Mom keeps asking me what I want to do while I’m there (go to yarn shops?), but the truth is that I have no idea.
Visiting a city like New York is a little overwhelming…I’m not a country mouse by any stretch of the imagination (well, ok, if you REALLY stretch), but at the same time, Louisville (in spite of its claims to the contrary) is no booming metropolis. It’s the perfect place to live–many of the benefits of true city life, and all the charm of a small town. And no, the chamber of commerce doesn’t pay me to say that. I love it here. But I am absolutely giddy at the thought of being turned loose in The City.
And don’t get me wrong–I’m from Lawn Guyland originally. When I want to freak the native midwesterners around here out, I tell them I grew up in the Hamptons. I did. Really. Southhampton Township. But *way* on the wrong side of the tracks, and way back when it wasn’t nearly as fashionable to live that far out on the island. We actually had a farm with acreage, if that tells you anything. But we were poor. Oh, so very poor! Let’s just say I know what government cheese tastes like, I know how to dig potatos from a field that’s already been harvested, and I’ve eaten more lobster* in my life than Bubba in Forrest Gump. Fried lobster, boiled lobster, lobster salad, lobster bisque, lobster on the half shell, lobster toast, lobster loaf, lobster croquettes….you get the picture.
Anyway, back to my point. I’ve been to the city before, and even done touristy things like hike to the top of the Statue of Liberty (back when they actually let you go up to the torch). I’ve sighed at the beauty that is the view from the top of the Empire State Building, and gawked at the animals hanging in front of the shops in Chinatown. I never went to the top of the World Trade Center, though, and I will always regret that.
I can’t figure out what sorts of activities we should try to do while we’re there. Neither of us has a whole lot of money to throw around (even though my company is picking up the check for the hotel), so if anyone has any suggestions for things we should do while we’re there, I’m all ears. Good eat places would be helpful as well.
Work has been killing me lately, what with this mega proposal we’ve been working on. This afternoon I found out that instead of being able to send it out today like we’d planned (and like I’d busted my ass all week to do), we have to wait until Monday night because–get this–we will have a new partner on the grant proposal, and I have to incorporate all their information (including financials and recalculated cost shares) into the proposal. And, oh yeah, by the way, we’re going to take things in a “slightly different direction.” WTF??? The good news is that the proposal has to be in North Charleston, SC by noon on Tuesday or it won’t be considered, so one way or the other it will be behind me by Monday night’s UPS late pick-up deadline.
And, just for shits and giggles, my former supervisor–who, I might add, no longer works for the company, but that’s another story–obligated me to teach a grant-writing workshop to Emergency Management personnel in far southeastern Kentucky. And then he didn’t tell me about it until Monday this week, right in the throes of the mega proposal. And, oh yeah–we’re going to leave Wednesday night instead of Thursday morning. (beats head against wall).
All that means is that a.) I will only be home Monday night next week, and I won’t see the kids except for Monday and Friday morning until the following Wednesday, b.) DH is more than a little peeved that my work life is interfering with his work and personal life, and c.) I have to have everything for both trips and the grant workshop ready to go Monday night. Including my knitting for the week.
***So I’m going to take Martheme’s Mystery kit with me (of course!), the Booga Bag I’m making from Plymouth yarn (Outback? CRS!), a wool pack for the next Sophie bag I want to make for an Xmas gift for a friend, and the %(*&^( sock I’ve been working on for almost a year (not continously, but apparently I’ve got a bad case of Finishitis with this pair of socks. Finishitis, in case you’re wondering, is closely related to the malady that leaves you stranded on Sleeve Island. It’s the bleak doldrums of the knitting habit, when absolutely nothing inspires you to want to finish the project.
The good news, if you can call it that, is that this particular pair of socks is a.) pretty, and b.) bugging me to the point where I am just going to have to finish the damned things to get them out of my life. And when they’re finished, I’m going to wear them, dammit. Besides, I couldn’t possibly give them to anyone else given the amount of negative energy tied up in them.
OK, so I’ll get off the computer now and leave you all alone. Sorry I made you read through such a long post. I’ll pay pennance with pictures tomorrow.
*While I was growing up, my grandparents lived on the bay next door to a man who owned a lobster fleet. When the lobster boats would come in, Fritz would give my grandparents *boxes* of lobsters that either had no claws or who had died in the hold. And so I ate *lots* of lobster growing up. Still can’t look at a lobster without shuddering!
