NEW YORK TRANSIT
Instead of meeting up at Osamil in the evening, Dee suggested I come up early because I didn’t have any other plans and Dad had stuff to do.
I thought about getting Lyfted but decided I’d take the subway instead, and as soon as I made that decision, I realized I’d never taken the subway alone in NYC. How is that even possible. I’m almost 50! Then I got all nervous and almost what-if-ed myself to death.
Anyhow, I Google Mapped it and off I went. It was easy making it to the first station because it’s just across the street. I can see it when I look out the window. Ok! You can do this. No Problem! Then I got on the wrong train. It took me about 20 minutes to get back on track after that initial mix-up, where I thought about running up to street level and electronically hailing a taxi, then immediately reminding myself, I am a grown woman! Like Beyonce, I can do whatever I want!
I made it into Manhatten via transit and was proud of myself! Turned on the AC, took a cold shower and chilled at Dee’s place; then around 2:30 pm, we left for The Morgan Library and Museum. (I had to go to a museum with library in the name.) We wanted to fit in Guggenheim or MoMA but realized we were about an eight-minute walk from the restaurant.
I found a new artist to love. Rick Barton. Most of his stuff is done with pen and ink, sometimes graphite. Those are my favourite media, and I cannot forget charcoal.Sam
Buying the time, I looked about the gift shop, Dee, my voice of reason, said, “Mom! Don’t go crazy!” And I didn’t. Initially, I bought 80$ worth of books and while we were killing time in the dining area, I got up to go back to the gift shop, and again Dee, my voice of reason, said, “Are you being impulsive!? Take a minute. Sit down. Breath!” So I did!
Although I went back, the thing I thought I couldn’t live without didn’t seem so appealing anymore. I. Did. Not. Purchase. Anything. Else. And I was proud of myself! Thank you Mama!
DINNER AND HIKING
On our way to Osamil, we got turned around, so dad and my brother got there before us.
Eating a disarticulated chicken feels less horrible. Maybe that is why I only like certain parts of the chicken wing. But it’s still part of a whole chicken, although, in the moment I don’t think about it. OMG! The skinny pigs were right! I am a monster! If I were forced to kill a chicken for dinner, I wouldn’t be able to. I’d cry thinking about all the family that’s going to miss it, all the grub it’s not going to get to eat and all the baby chicks it could have had.
After dinner, we walked to Dee’s place because I had to get my milkshake. Earlier in the day, while I was waiting for Dee to finish work, I ordered burgers and shakes from Shake Shack. Dad didn’t understand why I needed to get my remaining shake, but it was that good, and Dee wasn’t going to finish it.
Shake Shack shake. Totally worth the one-hour walk around Manhatten. It took longer for us to get to the subway than it did to get to Dee’s place.
END: Fri Jun 10, 2022
Not much to do today – editing all my photos and reading a book I got from dad. Also indulging in a vanilla whiskey milkshake.
YOU MUST READ
(or not! It is up to you!)
GOD: The Most Unpleasant Character In All Fiction by Dan Barker – I don’t know if it was meant to be hilarious but it is. I been laughing out loud – although, as you know, it doesn’t take much to get me going.
Oh, and by the way, dad is not an atheist. He believes in a supreme being … But it is not the one described in the bible. (hope I got that right.) With this book, Dad told me to look in the bible to back reference any information – he has the King James Version.
lol. I feel if your privates are crushed or cut off you wouldn’t want to go to church anyway right? But what do I know? I am not a man …
I am ONLY a woman who is a second-class citizen, treated as property to be sold as a slave or given as a wife. And my husband can have many wives but I can have only one husband and he shall rule over me. And it is alright for me to be raped, once the perp pays my father and marries me. And do I want to get married to a rapist? It doesn’t matter Why? Because I don’t matter! (Chapter 9 of GOD: The Most Unpleasant Character In All Fiction by Dan Barker).
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