or The 22 Hour Day
Some of you may have noticed that it snowed yesterday. Like, a shit-ton. It turned New York into a beautiful, dreamy winter wonderland and was a raging pain in my ass.
It started out so innocently. Early morning tufts of snow in my red snow boots. A stray bit of ice in the collar of my coat.
Then....45 minutes to drive 8 miles. A closed parking garage and a delayed train seriously jeopardizing my audition (I made it on time, though, which proves that I can only be punctual when I've given up all hope).
Thankfully, the snow didn't interfere with my dinner at Lure Fishbar* or drinks afterwards (where I told several humiliating stories that will
not be making it onto the blog).
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| This is Alec Baldwin waiting for a table at Lure. That means he and I have eaten at the same restaurant (not on the same night...yet). |
As my friends and I emerged, we blinked in wonder at the empty streets and late night wanderers throwing snowballs. I hoped that it wouldn't interfere with me getting home, har har har.
A two-hour train ride later, I finally made it to the car. I slid and slipped to the highway....which wasn't plowed. The teeny back rode near the Dunkin Donuts** is clean as the Queen's throne but the major interstate is covered in two feet of snow.
So, a few creative turns later and I'm almost home. Of course, I'm also totally stuck in a snowbank.
Just as I was about to get really discouraged three good Samaritans came and started shovelling me out with anything we could find- feet, a stray bumper, etc. Plow after plow passed us and ignored our pleas and waving for help. Although, to be honest, I was just so touched at these strangers stopping to help a stranger in a snowstorm at 3 in the morning (oh, did I not mention it was 3 in the fucking morning?) that I didn't care.
Two of these lovely people even came and made sure I made it home safe. Home at last, right? Wrong. Snow, snow everywhere and not a place to park.
Let me paint you a picture: I have been awake for 20 hours, I've spent the last hour pushing my car out of the snow, and I am now facing at least an hour of shovelling. One of the Samaritans suggested I use my feminine wiles to flag down a plow. I smiled and sent her on her way with some hot chocolate and many thanks. Now, if I learned anything from this entire experience it is this:
Feminie wiles mean nothing to a man with a plow.
Bed has never felt so good as it did at 5:00am after a 22 hour day of rushing, pushing and shovelling.
So, if you need me, I will be reading, resting and doing nothing unpleasant today.
If you see him, tell him I could use his assistance.
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| You have been a very bad man, Baldwin. Spanking, my room, 10 minutes. |
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Have a very happy snow day, everyone.
*which I highly recommend visiting during Restaurant Week, and not just because Alec Baldwin once ate there. Did I mention Alec Baldwin ate there once?
**have you tried their caramel hot chocolate? It is liquid crack.
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