I am going to New York y’all.
Note: I don’t actually say y’all. EVER. But. I have family who does and the Guilty Squid (Please read her Steve Jobs Post. Read it. Hilarious. You’re welcome. I laughed so hard I cried.) did it the other day and I was all. WOW. People who say y’all are really excited. And also. Really cool. So I tried it out. What do you think?
Anyway. I am going to New York y’all. I have NEVER been. Damn straight. Never. I have been to Italy and France and Croatia and England and Switzerland and all over the United States of America. But? I have NEVER been to New York. And? I have ALWAYS, my whole entire life, always, always, always, always dreamt of going to New York.
And now y’all? I. Am. Going. (Am I using y’all too much? That’s what I do. Get a new word. Overuse it. And single-handedly take the cool out of it.)
I could implode with the excitement. What should I see? Where should I eat? Where to shop? What Broadway show to pick? What in the hell will I wear?
It’s like when I was six years old and I stole ten dollars out of my dad’s wallet and I stood in the candy aisle for like TWO WHOLE HOURS because who can fucking decide with all those choices and ALL that free money.
I finally chose, but as I sat huddled in my closet eating ten dollars worth of a stomach ache, I had my regrets. I should totally have gotten the Boston Baked Beans. And. Why did I get suckered into these wax lips again? Gross. Also. Would these bubble gum cigarettes create a habit?
Which brings me to my New York trip. (y’all) What if I have regrets? I mean, it has taken me 39 years to get there and if it takes me another 39 years to get back. I will be....WOW.
So. Here is my plan. The first night I arrive I am going to a Yankees game. HOLLA. Because there is NO WAY on this quickly warming planet that this sport loving ass of mine is going to New York without seeing the Yankees. And? I am totally buying a Yankees hat. And. Wearing it. All. The. Time. (Another note: I love the Padres. Don’t leave hate comments my SD posse. The hat is just a fashion statement. Duh.)
The next morning, in an effort to rid myself of the chili dog with cheese and onions and relish and ketchup and mustard and the four beers at the game and the peanuts and cotton candy and the cocktails I will have later that evening. I am going for a run in Central Park. If you see someone that looks like they are running but they are moving so slow they appear to be going backwards. That is me. Say hi. I would love to stop and talk.
I am going to try and do SoHo, see the Statue of Lib (not go in), Ground Zero (Because I can’t help but go there and cry. Finally.) The Met, Wall Street and Union Square. In two days. What else? Tell me. What candy am I missing? Don’t let me have Boston Baked Beans regrets. HALP.
Also. I will be attending this itsy bitsy bloggers’ conference. Anyone else going?