By: Jillian Lauren
This used to be my town, but leave New York and it leaves you behind so quickly. I don’t know what restaurants to go to or where to shop or where the nearest subway stops are anymore. At the end of the day, I prefer my garden and my house and my slow, sunshiney LA life, but I still always feel a sense of longing when I arrive in New York. There’s something about the pace of the sidewalks here that feels like home to me.
I thought that Tariku would probably like it here, but I didn’t quite anticipate the depth of his passion. Our hotel is four blocks from the park and we’ve been spending hours there every afternoon. He pretty much thinks he’s entered paradise on earth. Horsies, buses, airplanes, flowers, swingsets, boats, fountains, the zoo, a giant meadow, hot dogs, street musicians, break dancers, a sketchy guy making giant bubbles with a rope contraption and a bucket of detergent…the list goes on. Each of these delights could alone fill an entire afternoon. But a place with all of them? I’m sure he wonders why I’ve been holding out on him for so long.
We’re not going to all of the New York area shows because the drives are a little long for T without a bus. I’m also scrambling to get some work done in a town where I know people and I can get a babysitter for a couple of hours. After we get on the bus on Sunday, writing is going to be a whole new kind of challenge. But we had a fab time at the PNC Bank Center show last night. Jersey is my home state, so Grandma and Grandpa came to the show. They were definitely the only senior citizens sitting in the first ten rows, but they’re old pros at this now. My mother actually called afterwards to offer some lighting suggestions.
I didn’t get great pictures. Try taking pictures while keeping a squirming baby from ripping off his headphones. I did get this one from the dressing room…
Current tour reading selection:
The time demands of motherhood have made me a greater short story enthusiast. In my spare moments, I’m reading Mary Gaitskill’s Don’t Cry. I feel about her work the way Tariku feels about Central Park.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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