These wine physics

Friday, November 25^th, 2016

New York, New York

It’s 7am in New York and Sarah is bustling around her apartment getting ready for work. I am strangely not tired.

Sarah makes me a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. I don’t expect to like it, but I have to admit that these east coasters are onto something! She also allows her neighbor’s cat to come in through the bedroom window. He is super cute and, almost immediately, he is begging to be let out of the front door. Cats.

Once Sarah leaves, I settle in on her couch to drink coffee and watch the morning news. I am already enjoying life as a New Yorker. It turns out that we are in a neighborhood called Bushwick. I have this vague memory of a Girls episode that took place in this neighborhood (later when I look it up, I’ll find it’s titled “The Crackcident”). I decide to spend the morning in Williamsburg, which is only a few miles up the street. I spend a few minutes on Yelp, picking the perfect restaurant for brunch. Eventually I decide on the Two Door Tavern, based more on the photos than the menu. I order an Uber and I am off!

Two Door Tavern is as hip as Yelp suggested. I order a large plate of bacon and eggs as well as a cup of coffee. I eat my breakfast slowly as I appreciate all the different kinds of hipsters. When I am finally done, I literally shimmy out of the café; it is so packed. I spend the next few hours wandering around different shops. I want to buy some hip clothes from Brooklyn but I am wearing so many layers that I cannot bring myself to try anything on; I make a mental note revisit some items online, once I return to sunny LA.  

Eventually I get tired and pull up Google Maps to see what else is around. I find a coffee shop called Northerly that sells a drink called Buttercup Coffee. It sounds like it has butter in it, so I go to check it out. When I arrive, the barista talks to the customer in front of me for like 5 whole minutes. Luckily, I don’t have anywhere to be (apparently, that’s something we all have in common). Eventually I get my chance to order. I chat with the friendly barista for a while and eventually get my butter filled coffee. I’m loving all the trendy food in Brooklyn!

Upon further investigation, it turns out that I am only about 2 miles away from Sarah’s house, so I decide to walk back.  As I start to get closer to Bushwick, The Crackcident makes more sense. Nonetheless, it’s the middle of the day and Sarah tells me this neighborhood is safe. I want to get some photos of the stray cats, but literally everyone is staring at me, so I just smile and keep walking.  

Eventually I arrive at Sarah’s house and have about an hour or so to relax and take care of a few items for work. Around 3pm I head out to meet Sarah in Manhattan for dinner. Sarah has given me hyper-specific instructions for getting into town and I am eternally grateful. 

I successfully arrive at the 58th Street Library stop. There are at least 7 exits from the subway station. I pick one at random and walk out into the chilly rain. I end up in Bryant Park and decide to walk around for a little bit. This place is in full holiday mode, with little heaters distributed throughout endless rows of vendors. I spend some time looking a jewelry and purses. I even buy a cup of bone broth from one of the street vendors (more points for New York and it's awesome food!). 

Eventually I make my way into the library. It’s beautiful. And warm. I spend an hour or so walking around and taking all sorts of arty pictures. I make a stop by the gift shop and am impressed but still unmotivated to buy anything (there’s something about not having a car that is making me think twice about purchasing anything).  

Around 5pm I start heading over to Grand Central Station. I stop to look in a few extravagantly decorated store windows and eventually end up in the train station. I only have a few minutes to look around before I meet Sarah right in the center. She is done with work for the weekend and ready for happy hour! 

We go to the a restaurant called the Grand Central Oyster Bar and decide to sit at the bar. After one round of cocktails, I am already drunk. New York bartenders do not fuck around. We order mussels to share and then I have a bowl of the seafood soup. The food is awesome and I am still drunk. Oh well, it’s vacation. After one last round of champange and a very spirited conversation with our very New York bartender, we head out to our evening activity - The Radio City Christmas Spectacular. I’m so tipsy and excited that I basically skip out of the train station.

We are only about half a mile from the Rockefeller Center but neither of our GPS’s can quite grasp our location. We wander around in the very chilly air for a little bit before eventually calling an Uber. 

When we arrive, there is a line around the building. We already have tickets, so we decide to walk to the front of the line and ask if we can go in. Surprisingly they says yes. We walk right in and to the Will Call window; I feel like we broke a rule, but am also excited to be inside. 

Immediately we go to the bar and order 2 glasses of wine. The wine is prepackaged and comes in little plastic glasses with lids on them. The lid is air tight and we can turn our containers upside down without spilling a drop. We are overjoyed by these physics. We try to take some selfies but can’t really get the background we want. After basically sitting on the ground to get a good shot, a nice man offers to help us. He takes a few photos and they turn out horrid. 

Eventually we find our seats and are the middle of a huge group of tourists. We notice that the upper balcony is almost completely empty. We move up there and end up with 2 full rows to ourselves. By the time the show starts our feet are all over the chairs in front of us and our plastic containers of wine are only half full. We talk over the entire show and can’t stop laughing about the creepy Santa Claus character.

Once the show is over we have a long trip back to Brooklyn. I follow Sarah through a maze streets and subway stations and eventually we end up back at her house. We hang out to drink a few glasses of water but end up falling asleep very quickly. Being a tourist is both fun and exhausting. 

21 hours of Thanksgiving

Thursday, November 24^th, 2016

Los Angeles, CA and New York, New York

It’s 8am and I am waking up for my flight to New York City! I am going to spend my long Thanksgiving weekend at Sarah’s temporary brownstone in Brooklyn. This is going to be awesome!

I drive myself to LAX and quickly realize that the economy parking lot is full. I was afraid this would happen. I make the snap decision to wing-it and drive up Sepulveda until I find a residential neighborhood with no parking restrictions. I grab the first spot I see, order an Uber, and hold my breath for a hassle-free airport experience.

Luckily, all goes smoothly and I am at my gate 45 minutes early. I grab a cup of coffee and call my parents to say hi. They are about to start their Thanksgiving dinner and won’t stop talking about their special recipe for mac and cheese. Eventually I get off the phone and have just enough time to download the second Harry Potter audiobook before I board my flight.

The flight is smooth and I land at JFK at 7:05pm Eastern Time. Whoa, it’s cold here. Per Sarah’s instructions I find the cab line, which is completely empty except for a couple who can’t stop making out. They cut in front of me, but I don’t even think they saw me, so I don’t take it personally. I wait less than a minute for my cab and then am off to Sarah’s house!

When I arrive, I cannot believe how beautiful Sarah’s place is. It has super tall ceilings, large windows and dark brown, wooden floors. The entire space feels very open and has a strange old world feel to it. After about 5 minutes of getting settled, we decide to head over to Little Italy for our Thanksgiving dinner. It’s dark and rainy, but after only 2 train rides we arrive. The restaurant is pretty empty (to be fair it’s almost 9pm on Thanksgiving). There is a small family blocking the front door and their adolescent kid will not move. Sarah chirps “watch it” as we push past. I can already tell that New York fits Sarah like a glove.

The host and servers at the restaurant are obviously Italian and are extremely over the top in their presentation of the table and menus. We each order a glass of wine and examine the menu. I order chicken in a cream sauce with veggies on the side and Sarah has the scallops. The food is delicious and we have a lot of catching up to do.

Sarah has to work tomorrow, so after dinner we head back to her place and drink one more glass of wine in her living room. Around midnight Sarah really needs to get to sleep and I am not tired at all. After all, today only had 21 hours for me. I take a quick shower and lay in bed staring at the celling. Before I know it, I am asleep and my first day in NYC is complete.

GPS saves the day.

Saturday, October 8, 2016

San Angelo, TX

Oh crap! It’s 9am and my text messages are going off. I am supposed to be in the lobby but I am still bed. This is bad. I tear out bed, throw on clothes, brush my hair and spend about 20 seconds brushing my teeth. At 9:10am I run into the lobby. I am officially late to Mema’s funeral.

We all climb into the limousine and no one says anything about my late arrival. The driver goes slowly to church. We arrive by 9:30am, with plenty of time to spare. As we enter the church I see two strangers sitting in the pews. My parents recognize them right away and they exchange hugs with my parents and me and my brother. The hugs last for a beat too long. Soon I realize they are Bill and Barbara, old family friends. To be fair I have only met them a few times. 

We are shown to a side corridor, where we will be escorted to the front row of the service. Other family members are around, including Jack, Mema’s husband. He looks sick and tired; thankfully, his kids are there to take care of him. I also notice that almost all the women are wearing some form of the Concho pearl, which is a special freshwater pearl only found in San Angelo. I find this classy and wish that I had one too.

After about 15 minutes of standing around, the service begins. We are escorted to the front row and I sit in between my Mom and brother. The service feels pretty standard. It starts with some music and then a prayer. The minister says something about death being the hardest on the living, which only makes me think of my Mom. I start to cry, but pull it back together within a few minutes. After the minister’s sermon we listen to more music and then the service is over. My Dad, brother and other pall bearers move the casket into the hearse. From here we all drive across town to the cemetery. We have police escorts (which really isn’t a big deal in a town as small as San Angelo).

The graveside ceremony is brief. Some people are crying but I am holding strong. After a few prayers we are ushered away from the gravesite. The minster tells us that they lower the casket after everyone leaves, because its less emotional that way. I appreciate this.  

Our last stop is back at the church for snacks and fellowship. The drive seems to be taking longer than expected. Eventually we realize that our driver is lost. I am annoyed that I am the only one in the car with GPS and begrudgingly pull up a map to the church. Once we finally arrive, we are on the wrong side of the parking lot. My Dad is frustrated and insists that we all get out and walk. After about a 5 minute we arrive at the back of the fellowship hall where an extended family member just happens to be standing around. He lets us into the back door and we are clearly the last to arrive. Minister Paul insists that we get some food. I grab a plate with a few sandwiches.  There is also coffee, thank goodness. We all sit with family for a while. Most of the talk is about how various family member have been doing; it’s pretty unemotional.

Eventually it’s time to head back to the hotel. We drop my brother off who heads back to Austin immediately. My parents and I take breaks in our respective rooms. 

Later that day we get together to do some sightseeing. We start out at the Sonic. I am not eating sugar so I end up with a cup of iced tea. We make a quick stop by my stepgrandmother’s apartment where we visit and look at pictures for about an hour. From here we take a walk along the river and a drive through San Angelo’s nicest neighborhood. My parents are considering retiring here one day. Ugh.         

Finally, it’s almost dinner time. We go to downtown and Dad suggests Peepsi’s which looks old and authentic. I ask what kind of wine they serve and they pull a bottle of Yellow Tail out from underneath the counter and reply “red”. I decide to go for a beer. We sit out back and listen to a guy with a guitar. Eventually we order some wings to go with our beer. It’s a pretty nice time. After a few hours, we decide to go walk around a little bit more. It turns out that there is a free concert in the street. We stop for another half hour so. I am very charmed by San Angelo right now; I am also a little drunk.  

On the way back to the car a guy asks us for money. We politely decline but he follows us for half a block. I am not worried, but my Dad tells him to go away.

Eventually we are back at the hotel. Tomorrow is my flight home.