New York, New York

[First thing’s first – ‘member that contest I posted like twice and tried to force you to click the link and go over and read stuff that clearly didn’t interest more than like two of you who also were probably just responding to my sobering desperation? I’m a finalist. You can click here to verify that I’m not making stuff up because I’m bored and breakfast is taking forever making its way to my mouth. Woot!]

On to New York. (Not literally until this weekend, though.) Which I just realized my tiny big sister, JenJen, wrote about, too! The last time I was there was four years ago, but that’s not the story I wanna tell. Okay, well, maybe this:

We behaved like we’d been dipped in spirits. Maybe Jonathon had (pretty sure he hadn’t) but I know I was as sober and stupid as I ever am!

Anyway! The first time I went to New York, I was five years old. Celebrated my sixth birthday. The parts that stood out the most? Shopping, for one. George Michael playing in Bloomingdales. Me wearing my favoritest outfit EVAH! (Pink spandex shorts under a neon green skirt with a white t-shirt decorated with neon pink and green puffy paint with neon pink and green – see a pattern here? – scrunch socks and ….. wait for it. LA Gears. WITH. GILLS.) Jennifer getting lost after we came out of the museum of natural history. Jennifer getting a wrought iron spear stuck in the back of her thigh. Jennifer getting stitches at some “hospital” where a dude had been severely burned on his face but was in the waiting room with us. Oh, Jennifer. Thanks for the memories.

You know what I honestly remember most? The fact that for weeks after we came back to California – I say as though I’m writing this from California – I had nightmares. Apparently I’d been fearing for my one year old brother’s life the entire six week trip because upon our return, all the things that “could” have happened to him played out in my dreams. Those dreams are more vivid at times than the actual memories of the trip! (Other than when Jennifer was given the Jem doll that turned out to be one of the Misfits and at first we were like, why would you give someone the Misfits doll instead of one of the Holograms?! But then we fell in love with the cassette tape of songs that came with it? ‘Member?!)

One dream was in Queens, outside of buildings I would learn were projects. I was running up to the entrance and had been chasing literally the big bad wolf. O_O How’s that for a six year old’s nightmare? He was bipedal just like in the cartoon and had a snout that more resembled a crocodile. Just like in the cartoon. Anyway, just as I was getting to the front doors, there was an explosion. Not very big. But it turned out it had been my baby brother. Which I knew because his little soft-soled shoes were still standing there on the pavement where he’d been. O_O Yep.

Oh and there was that one rare occasion upon which we took a cab. It was late and it’d been raining and my baby brother had horrible allergies and junk when he was little. Had to sleep with a humidifier. Anyway, I remember his stroller being encased in that plastic dealie. I. Don’t remember having an umbrella myself, though. I don’t know, it just seems like maybe one parent taking five small children to visit New York for six weeks wasn’t the best laid plan. O_o Sure, I loved it at the time but um… I’m pretty sure I’d not do it with two of my own.

I also remember the picnic where I won some race and was a total spoiled brat who couldn’t hide my disappointment at the quality of the prize. (But then neither could Jennifer.) And then we took those “crappy” prizes home and hung them on the wall for years to come.

{Warning: I did not reread this from when I wrote it at like four this morning. Huh. Shoulda prolly said this at the top, huh?}

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