My week was spent in New York City. Somewhere in the romantic side of my mind I thought it would be a great idea to accompany Husband on a work trip for four nights. We could finally have some time to talk, to linger in eachother’s company without the panic of getting it all said – and done! – in 5.5 seconds before the kids come in. Was I on crack??
New York is a fast paced, exciting but completely exhausting city. From the moment we stepped onto the pavement outside our hotel, our romantic embrace was ripped apart and I was literally stepped on by fellow pedestrians racing through their lives. Add rain and wind to that scenario and I nearly took out three people’s eyes, including Husband’s who of course is British and wouldn’t use an umbrella in the storm so wasn’t amused. Kill or be killed! We changed hotels after two nights from midtown to downtown which was better, as the pace seemed a fair bit slower. I still felt like a snail next to road runners at every corner, and these women are doing it in heels, and soon realized that if I didn’t throw my elbow out a few times I would end up in the gutter. And it’s a wet and grimy gutter.
We were exhausted from LA jet lag. I didn’t expect it but it disturbed me nonetheless as the morning fog in my head transformed to a thick, sticky goo by lunchtime. I desperately tried to wear more make-up, dress sexy yet with an ease and be perky. Perky!! Sex was on our minds as four less bodies stood between us, but each day brought more and more fatigue from no sleep and work stress. There is definitely an immediate intimacy being on our own that we both acknowledge and frankly sometimes that’s as close as we get! When we checked into our second hotel, I had to laugh at the front desk manager. He looked at our booking and said to Husband,”Will I be adding another name to the room or shall I just leave it at one?” the insinuation being that I am, perhaps, the ‘other woman’. Husband smiled wryly and replied with a wink, “No, just my name will do.” And there you go. Fantasy started; the anonymity of it all providing the foreplay.
I got ill, of course, half-way through the week. Achy then chesty. Figures. No kids, free pass to party, and illness. I still ate my way through the city, who can resist, and saw some beautiful exhibitions and walked miles window shopping and pretending I lived there, seeing how it felt. I always wanted to live in New York but for the first time, I felt quite claustrophobic. Being inside tall buildings without any outside space for too long made my Californian skin itch.
But what can compare to that energy, that life force New York City embodies?? Nothing, nowhere. It’s incredibly exhilarating, in all its dirt and glory. Husband’s film Killing Bono was a part of the CMJ music and film festival so the week had a strong sense of purpose for him. I, on the other hand, was free. The city is a half-way mark between London and LA and because of that, I have people from both sides of my life living there. Stolen moments to catch up with really old and great friends. They’re not old, just great. On a tangent…my one friend just adopted a dog and had complained that it had issues on day two. As a dog owner, I chuckled a bit at this and truthfully thought she was exaggerating. Then I went for a walk with them. Well, not really a walk as her dog refused to walk. There isn’t anything physically wrong with her, but hey, she didn’t wanna. She would do these ‘throw downs’ and my friend would have to drag her across the floor, and street, with onlookers staring and commenting nasty things as we passed. She would loudly declare to the hissers, “Special needs dog, coming through, it’s not my fault, day 2 here – no, I don’t beat her!!”. The dog also has an overbite and refuses to pee outside. So I take it back, no exaggeration here. It was the funniest walk I’ve ever had, for me that is. As for my friend…she saved this dog from her fate in a dumpster and because the dog is now living with love, I’m sure she’ll start walking soon. If she doesn’t….well, thank g-d she’s cute!
When we finally reached the plane to go home, I was huddled into a ball dealing with the aftermath of aches, I was happy to be going home. Normally, the trips that we take away from the boys are sacred marriage-bonding moments that refuel every fire and connect all the dots. Hmmm. The good news is our relationship is not in need of anything, all checks and balances are in place, but next time I’m going to rethink combining girlie visions of oneness with a concrete jungle of craziness.