All Systems Go

by

Well, it’s on.

I got the heads up from my friend as I was editing my blog last night; the room-mate said cool, and he gave me the green light.

I think the exact words were, “book it bitch.”

Ah.

Friends.

I booked it.

Flying out of SFO to JFK on Thursday, September 4th at 4:37 p.m. returning JFK to SFO on Sunday, the 7th at 8:10 a.m.

We already have my first day pretty mapped out.

We’ll get up Friday morning, late morning I am supposing since my flight arrives at JFK at 1 a.m., walk to Manhattan and grab coffee and breakfast and head to the High Line, then Central Park, then the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

And that will take up most of the day.

Interspersed with food, hanging out, smack talking, and lots and lots of walking.

He asked how my ankle is and I don’t want to say it sucks, it hurts, it’s stiff, how can it still hurt this much, I don’t care for the whining, but by the end of today I was so ready to take off my shoe and throw down with some iced peas, I was near to tears.

I was also taken aback at how swollen it is again.

Seriously?

Come on.

Ugh.

I’m resting, I am going slow, I am taking it easy, but I am still working and going up and down steps and pushing a double stroller and it just takes time, so six more weeks of healing and I should be able to handle the mean streets of Manhattan.

I just got goosebumps saying that.

I do not know why it has taken me this long to do it, I suppose fear, but I’m ready and it seems all ready for me.

I have a dear friend who is going out there and will be a mere twenty-minute walk from where I am staying in Brooklyn, what are the odds?

Plus, a darling friend who I have known for 9 1/2 years, who lives there, but I have not seen much of outside of social media channels and a quick text or three around the same time each January.

We sort of share a special month anniversary you could say.

First thing out of his “mouth” when I texted that I was coming was, “do you need a place to stay?”

I mean, I always knew he probably meant that when he offered it to me the last time I saw him in San Francisco, he was with a gallery show, he’s making it as an artist, a fact that used to arouse jealousy and now just induces awe, go man go, make art and get your money!

He had said, we have a spare room, you can stay, you don’t have to pay anything, I’ll even show you around.

But I was afraid and never took him up on the offer.

Fear.

Such a silly emotion.

Necessary, I know, but often, in my case, overblown.

I also had a mad, mad, mad crush on him for the first year or so that he and I ran around the same circles, perhaps some of that still was in the mix.

None the less, thrilled to hear that he too is not that far away from where I will be staying and he offered to accompany me into Union Square, of all places, Saturday afternoon for a little get right with God.

I love that where ever I go, I am taken care of.

We’ll grab coffee before hand and catch up.

That’s all the planning I have.

My friend whom I am staying with said figure out what you want to do now since I am just coming in for such a short visit.

Aside from going to Central Park, seeing the High Line, and going to the Met, I couldn’t think of a lot else, just being in the city will be it for me, to get overwhelmed by it, absorbed by it, to see it, touch it, be in it.

I have a hankering to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge and to see the Williamsburg bridge, get my Soul Coughing reference on, I want to see the skyline at night, I don’t have much desire to shop (I’ll do what I always do, I’ll get a magnet from the museum store and a postcard and send the postcard to myself and I will get myself a cheap pair of earrings.  I almost always lose them, but while I have them, they will remind me every time of the experience.  To this day when I put on my little pink heart-shaped earrings I am reminded of Paris, of the brocante, flea market, of Square D’Anvers, of the foot of Sacre Couer.) but I will grab a few souvenirs.

I will act like I don’t care that I look like a tourist and I will take photographs with my camera.  I am will travel light, no reason to pack a huge bag or even my roll on.

I am going to go with two changes of clothes, a pair of Saucony’s, I’ll be walking and my ankle is not ready for sandals yet, damn it, my laptop, my camera, my phone, and a notebook.

Perhaps that is one other thing that I will get myself in New York–a notebook.  I do like having a notebook from the place I was visiting.

I have little journals, cloth bound, from Rome, I have numerous, at least seven, journals from Paris–all Claire Fontaine–and of course plenty of them from San Francisco.

I may not write as much, but I will try to absorb as much as I can, I don’t think I’ll sleep much either.

And, fingers crossed, I will have most of the playa scrubbed off me before I get on the plane.

I will have a day turn around from leaving Black Rock City to leaving San Francisco to New York.

I don’t know what to expect, except that I get to see two dear friends, and visit somewhere I have never been and be fucking jazzed that once again I leapt.

“It’s not a geographic,” I told her over coffee, “it’s a leap of faith.”

Thank God I can still take them with a shoddy ankle.

Look out below, I leaped again.

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