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Monday, December 8, 2003: Two steps forward...
Two steps forward, one step back. Today was just like all of last week -- I half-completed a few things, and spent a lot of time holding a crying baby. Still not sure what's wrong, still think it's nothing serious, since she seems to be easily distracted. I continue to hold out hope that the sling will solve all our problems. Unless she learns to crawl before it comes. But you're sick of hearing about this. Let me tell you about our trip to New York. We went to New York in early November. We arrived on Saturday the 8th, flying in in the late afternoon. As we were coming down to land I had the most astonishing view of the sunset, the city skyline and a huge harvest moon. If I had any writing ability whatsoever I would describe it, but you'll have to do without. Sorry. By the time we landed it was dark, and not even five o' clock. It seemed really dark, really early, and I was disappointed -- I had thought we would have a bit of time to explore that evening. We stayed at the Howard Johnson Express Inn on East Houston, which was resolutely adequate. A little room, but not tiny, with a pretty bathroom. The extras were no hell -- a wee coffee maker with insufficient creamer and sugar, and drugstore-brand shampoo, conditioner and lotion. But for under $100 a night, it's a bargain, and the location can't be beat. After we settled into the hotel, we stopped next door at Yonah Schimmel's Knishery for supper, and then went to the Duane Reade on Broadway for diapers and baby food. The next day, Sunday, was the day of the wedding, so we weren't too ambitious -- we went to the knishery for breakfast, and then walked down Sara D. Roosevelt Park and back up before heading uptown for the ceremony. The ceremony was short and sweet, and followed by a brief, illegal gathering in Central Park with illegal champagne drinking. Then we all dispersed and Blake and I and Delphine went to Katz's for dinner. Blake ordered the chopped liver, but they were out so he had to have something I don't recall at the moment. I had chicken matzo ball soup and half a corned beef sandwich. The soup was sublime, but the corned beef was too fatty and sliced too thick. Also the service was no hell. Back to the hotel for a quick costume change, and then we walked the six blocks or so to the reception, Delphine in the front carrier. The reception was in the private section of a club called the Lansky Lounge. There was quiet music playing, and an open bar, tasty hors d'oeuvres and really good cake. We got to hang out with an old friend, Dee, and everyone fawned over Delphine. I couldn't have asked for a better party. At around 11 or midnight or so we headed home, but once we got to the hotel I realized I had left my wallet at the bar. Several frantic phone calls ensued, until we established that Sascha had it and was mightily amused by an old picture of Blake I keep around. The good news was that we had an excuse to see Sascha and Leontine the next day to collect the wallet, and I slept okay that night. (Although I didn't tip the coat check girl nearly enough, since she wrangled not only our coats but also the carrier and diaper bag. I hate tipping; I can never pull it off.)
I'm afraid it's 11:00 and Blake has an early dentist appointment tomorrow, so I'll have to cut this off. I will write more on this matter tomorrow. In 2001 I filled in a survey. |