Wired Writer

Note to self: remove Irish DNA from family gene pool

Apparently, I have my priorities mixed up.

Nielsen Before Pulitzer
“Always bury the lead. Always have an agenda. And, for Christ’s sake, remember that a real journalist considers Nielsen before Pulitzer.”
--Anonymous

I guess it helps that I'm not a real journalist. Just a snuffling, truffle-rooting hog for words.

The above quote--Nielsen, not truffle hog-- was stripped without proper manners from the BelleInTheBigApple blog. And that's where I'm going to for the next five days -- New York City.


Let's all give a cheer, shall we? "F - R - E (pause) - A - K - E (pause) D - FREAKED! Yay!"

Shake those pompoms, people, because I am about to go on vacation with Captain Neurosis as my co-pilot.

It's a first time, all-girl vacation: my sisters, M. and M. (yep, they both have names that start with M), and myself. We're of Irish descent, from a particular lineage that not only makes us distant cousins to 1980's pop singer Boy George but also prone to large attacks of procrastination, waffling, and general inability to commit to a plan without changing course several times before the end.

This is going to be fun.

This is how I imagine the itinerary will turn out:

Wednesday, Sept. 21
Morning: M1 and myself fly out of Ohio, reach NYC. Become panicked at how to get from airport to hotel. Hail cab for first time, count the number of consonants in the cabbie's name and stop at 16. Fervently hope we aren't permanently stuck to the seats by what appears to be old gum and dried body fluids.

Arrive at hotel, check in.

Early Afternoon: Walk to Grand Central Station. Try not to look like tourists by NOT LOOKING UP. New Yorkers are used to big tall buildings and look down or straight ahead. Strain eyes looking over crowd to find sister M2 at pre-ordained spot where her train comes in. Find M2, rejoice, then panic at the passage of time. Walk quickly back to hotel. Call cousin G.

Late Afternoon: Meet cool Cousin G. who hooks us up with passes to see dress rehearsal of a opera production (don't remember which one), maybe get a backstage tour, have dinner with cool Cousin G. and get some travel tips.

Thursday, Sept. 22
Morning: Wake up with small pangs of jealousy for lifestyle of cool cousin G. Eat packed granola bars for breakfast to save on food costs.

Have 'spirited discussion' with M1 and M2 about rest of itinerary. Agree to procrastinate on itinerary until afternoon.

Mid Morning: eat entire remaining stash of the granola bars because hunger has reached point of where newspapers are starting to look like good sources of fiber and nutrition. Did not realize granola bars increase hunger. Wonder if you can suppress appetite by drinking 10 diet Cokes a day and not eating until Sunday.

Early Afternoon: start checking prices on hot dog stands. Agree to procrastinate itinerary until after dinner.

Evening: Cave in to hunger, spent half of travel budget on dinner at the Tavern on the Green. Watch for movie stars. Complain about Irish lineage and wasting vacation. Agree to waffle extensively on day and time to go to Musem of Art. M1 states she is experiencing shopping withdrawal. Agree to add shopping to itinerary, day and time to be procrastinated until later.

Friday, Sept. 23
Morning: drink diet Coke. Wonder if appetite suppressants are sold on street corners. Hate self for not getting up early enough to see Bon Jovi at the Today Show. Mentally brace self for heckling from co-workers whom I told to watch for me in the crowd.

Afternoon: Double check for tickets on broadway show. Drink another diet Coke.

Evening: Attend Monty Python's SPAMALOT. Sigh and marvel at cuteness of David Hyde Pierce's square jaw line and sheer talent of Tim Curry. Eat tickets at intermission for snack. Washed down with free drink at water foutain.

Saturday, Sept. 24
Morning: panic at apparent lack of cohesive vacation; swear to never be victimized by Irish lineage again. Do morning blitzkrieg of Bloomingdale's and cabbing to St. Patrick's Cathedral and Times Square. Drink 3 diet Cokes. Stare hungrily at half-eaten pizza slice in public trash can.

Afternoon: Tired but determined. More shopping, Rockefeller Center, and Carnegie Hall. Curse that God gave us feet instead of wheels. See sale on shoes. Praise God that he gave us feet instead of wheels.

Evening: Exhausted, even after 2 more diet Cokes. Too tired to eat. Suck quietly on wrapping paper that came from new pair of shoes bought at Bloomingdales.

Sunday, Sept. 25
Morning: check out of hotel, hail cab to airport. Only 11 consonants in this driver's name. No stains on back seat, just overwhelming odor of onions and stale farts.

Afternoon: on plane back to Ohio. M1, M2, and I reaffirm sisterhood with tired smiles and vigorous vows to do all-girl vacation again. Just with more granola bars and suitcase room for shoes.

Evening: greeted by family at airport. Settle in for hour drive back home with diet Coke in hand. Hubby complements my new shoes and then asks, "Why are you staring at the Sunday newspaper like that? You look like you're going to eat it."

I agree, then waffle, only to procrastinate on eating it until later. My husband looks at me, confused.

I don't mind. I've learned my lesson: sometimes there's no denying your heritage.

posted by A.M.Adams @ 9/20/2005 06:29:00 AM