New Favourite Things in an Old Favourite Place

That sign pretty much says it all.  It's funny that I didn't come across it until just a few hours before I was leaving NYC, but once again the Universe bolstered my confidence and reassured me that I had made a good decision to take a break from my crazy life and go back to one of my favourite places, even during these uncertain times.

I was beginning to think that I was running out of "new" things to do in the city, and by "city" I mean Manhattan.  I was just about to start branching out to the outer boroughs when I discovered Governors Island.  I couldn't believe that I had been coming here for so many years and didn't really know about it.  All it took was a really short ferry ride, and I was suddenly elsewhere.  Like Central Park but with far fewer people.  And, unfortunately during this recent heat wave, far fewer trees.  But the breeze off the water was refreshing, the views of the Statue of Liberty and downtown Manhattan skyline were pretty nice, and I guess it would have been really peaceful had it not been for the constant helicopters going back and forth to the seaport.  Most importantly, there were slides:

Not just any slides, but those old school bum-burner slides made of pure heat absorbing metal.  I was mildly tempted but one brief touch of the railing and my mind was set against it.  Another woman approached the slides and tried two of the three.  First, she slid down a short one, then she tried the long twisting one afterwards.  She was wearing significantly longer pants than I was, and as she slid down all she kept repeating was "HOT!"  Maybe I'll try again on my next visit.

Just before I went to the island, I went to Little Park for breakfast.  I honestly had the best New York breakfast ever:

An egg white frittata with zucchini, caramelized onions and goat cheese, served with a side of greens dressed only (as far as I can tell) with olive oil and lemon juice.  I also added a side of fingerling potatoes that were crispy and delicious.  I hadn't planned on going there beforehand.  I just asked Google for a good breakfast place and there it was.  As usual, it all works out.

I wanted to see Come From Away specifically on Broadway because...well, it's a Canadian musical about 9/11, and it was so close to winning a Tony.  What more do I have to say?  I tried getting a rush ticket but I joined the line a little late (I got to the theatre around 9:00, the box office opened at 10:00, but the guy at the front had gotten there at 5:30).  Still, I was able to get a standing room ticket, which turned out to be just fine, being dead centre at the back of the orchestra level.  Plus, at $32, the cheapest Broadway ticket I've ever purchased.  I even had a little wall with a cushioned top rail that I could lean my arms and head against, so standing for just over an hour and a half was no problem at all.  And I know it's cheesy, but watching that show made me so proud to be Canadian.  Knowing that these stories and events were based on true facts and real people made them so much more moving.

So, another successful visit with a favourite place, and a brief respite from the world.  Too brief, really.

RIP Chester Bennington

"I'm holding on, why is everything so heavy? Holding on, so much more than I can carry"

No Irreparable Damage

How many times can a heart be broken before it's irreparably damaged?  I hope it's a high number.  Like, a REALLY high number.

That's right, friends, if you've been following the saga over the past few months, the movie is over.  In a way, it's a relief.  I don't know if I could take much more suspense.  Well, that's a bit of a lie, as it really wasn't such a shocking conclusion.  I had really high hopes this time around, but it turned out the same as it always does.  As someone who's had her heart broken many times, this is starting to become routine.  I know that's a downer, but it's true.  Maybe as time has passed, my philosophy has changed.  My beliefs haven't though, as the blue shoes have shown.  That's a good sign.

The most interesting part of this is that I've pretty much gotten back on the horse right away.  I don't mean that I'm seeing someone new immediately, but I've put myself out there again.  Another sign of changes in philosophy.  No moping, no feeling sorry for myself.  Clear out, they have to clean up the theatre for the next show.  And so it goes on.

"But I was late for this, late for that, late for the love of my life, and when I die alone, when I die alone, when I die I'll be on time"

A Surreal Moment

Several days ago, I was getting into the elevator of my condo, and in the corner on the floor was one blue running shoe.  The other people in the elevator and I looked at it, and we all made a small comment about someone losing their shoe.  It looked kind of sad and forlorn.

The next morning, I happened to get on the same elevator, and I had the most surreal moment ever.  The same blue running shoe was still in the elevator.  But...sitting next to it, was the matching shoe.  I stared at the pair of blue running shoes the entire way down to the parking garage, absorbing the implications of the scene.

That image has stayed with me for days.  It's given me a new hope.  In the end, despite the odds, anyone can find their soulmate.

Or, in this case, their sole mate.

"But we all want some love, yeah we all crave for more, 'cause we all want some love, is it all, is it all we've waited for?"

Living in a Rom-Com Montage

I kind of wish I had more interesting things to write about.  Some kind of new adventure, a new chapter in my life, or something.  These days, anyone who asks me what I've been up to gets the same answer: work.  To be fair, work is alternating between intensely stressful and really exciting.  A project that I've been working on for the past 4 years is finally tangible.  In the next few months, it will hopefully be fully operational and producing commercially sellable products.  So yeah, it's not such a boring subject to talk about.

In terms of my personal life, I am at a virtual standstill.  Actually, worse yet, I am living in a rom-com montage.  You know, that series of scenes in a sappy movie that show how the lives of 2 people progress while they're apart, set to some pop song.  Montages can show the passage of weeks, months, even years.  However, those montages last maybe 3 or 4 minutes.  Mine is in real time, plodding along.  It feels like it's never-ending.  But it will end, and in a few weeks no less. Then the movie can continue, and we'll see how it all works out for everyone.  I'm trying to be optimistic, but make no mistake, I've got the box of Kleenex at the ready, just in case.

"I've got issues, but you've got them too, so give them all to me and I'll give mine to you"

Things They'll Never Do

Some updates from the last post.

The visitation for my friend Sean was one of the most well attended I'd ever seen.  The room was packed.  A good number of my classmates (some of whom I had reconnected with at the lunch gathering the week before) were there.  The casket was closed, but I still went up to pay my respects.  We met his family - his parents, brother and sister.  There was a short service, with Sean's father giving a really heartbreaking speech.  But the things I noticed the most were Sean's photos.  As it turns out, he was in a creative photography program at the nearby college, and was just a few months away from graduating.  They displayed some samples of his work all around the room.  His photos showed just how talented he was.  It made me even more sad to think that he was about to start a new adventure in his life.

Shortly afterwards, I was hit with some more bad news.  A former coworker of mine, Steve, who as it happens was also at university with me, 2 years ahead but in the same program, died suddenly at his home.  We heard that he wasn't feeling well the day before, had gone to bed, but then didn't wake up.  He did have a health condition, but it's not clear if that was the cause of his death.  The family decided to have a private funeral so we didn't have a chance to say goodbye to him, but there was a memorial webpage created to allow everyone to share stories and memories of him so that his children would be able to know him better as they got older.

Steve was the biggest jokester there ever was.  He was relentless sometimes, teasing and playing pranks on others at work.  Reading the stories from others who knew him, it was clear that he did it all the time.  But the one thing I knew about him was that he loved his kids.  As I thought about him in the days following his passing, I kept thinking about his children.  I can't remember how old they are, but they are still young, under the age of 10 for sure.  I thought, Steve is never going to get to see his son graduate from...anything.  He's never going to get to walk his daughter down an aisle, if that were to happen in the future.

It's an existential moment for me, as I'm sure you can tell.  The part that touches me the most is that they both died under very similar circumstances.  Extremely suddenly, possibly from an undiagnosed health issue, and at home.  Life offers no promises and no guarantees, except for one.  When it comes, I hope I'm ready.

"It's been a long day without you my friend, and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again"