Maria Goes to Long Island

Mrs. D flew me down last Thursday as a surprise to Erin and in turn I was surprised by the lack of guido and orange skin as Erin introduced me to Long Island.

Things I loved about Long Island:

1) Erin and her seriously fantastic family (yes, even the dog, who trapped me in a room Day One but was eating hot dogs from my plate by Sunday.)

2) Erin's crazy/hilarious/super fun friends and their fire pits and weird cars with animal noises.

3) The wheel at Billy's Bar. So exciting!

4) The water. And rocks. And shells. If I lived on Long Island I'd be down by the water every day. There were awesome lifeguard lookout towers that I refused to jump off even though they were three feet from the ground. Noelle threw rocks at me in a failed attempt to persuade me to jump. I would need to build up some courage.

5) Crazy people. Like this guy with a metal detector.

After exploring Long Island on Friday, Erin's family brought me into the city Saturday. Some switch flipped the second we started driving into the city. Attacked by the impulse to explore for hours, I annoyed my family and friends with texts declaring my wishes to move to the city right then and there.

We went into the Hershey and M&M stores where Erin and I played with giant chocolate bars and her sisters joined us in the mood detector to determine our M&M color. (Mine was Almond Mix or something. Apparently I like excitement and adventure. So true, M&M mood detector!) The machine was acting up all day; it offended Jill by telling her she is not a person who "does many things well," declared Sarah dark chocolate mix and Erin dark pink. Bizarre.

We headed toward Carmine's next. A legend in my mind, I was excited to experience what Noelle and Erin spent hours salivating over. Mr. D went in to get us a table and to everyone's surprise there was no line. He brought us in through the special door and we took our seat on the second floor. I will be dreaming about those zucchini sticks/fries/straws/pieces-of-heaven for YEARS.

After Carmine's, we walked around Times Square where we reunited with Mark.

The weather was perfect on Saturday. We walked to Central Park where we climbed a rock formation and people-watched. A ten-year-old boy hit on Erin with the sweetest pick-up line ever: Wanna climb with me? She turned him down. It was as good a time as any for him to learn about disappointment. He slid down the formation and walked off with his mom.

We experienced many strange and wonderful things walking through Central Park. A bride, a man (with a small dog) that looked like a pedophile, a man tanning in very tiny shorts, a large group of people roller skating in various outfits including (but not limited to) furry pink pants and cut-off shirts with fringe, a woman on a unicyle dancing with a man on roller skates, two Aztek-ish warring violinists in thongs, a woman making a stuffed chicken dance on her lap, and much much more.

I need to move to NYC.

Dessert was necessary after our long day. We indulged in cheesecake and chocolate cakes before seeing the hilarious off-broadway play, Altar Boyz. Is it strange that I want to download the soundtrack? We had a perfect view; our seats were four rows from the front. Erin and I were relieved to hear this showing did not involve audience participation.

We drove through the brightly lit city and I resisted the urge to jump out of the car and peek in all the restaurants and bars and apartments. I drilled Erin and her parents about life in the city, imagining myself living there.

This whole being out of college thing is kind of exciting when you realize that you can literally go anywhere. As long as there's money. And benefits. And housing. I'll save my list of living requirements for another time.

Sunday was barbeque day. Erin and Jill had a joint party for graduation and Sweet [s]Ixteen respectively. Mrs. D and the girls prepared me for the invited company as Mr. D and Sarah prepared the outdoor games and fire and the rest of us helped assemble the mounds and mounds of food Mrs. D bought.

The food was delicious (and plentiful) and the company was great. I even found a new boyfriend. James is 10. He thinks I'm 15. He's a little fresh but he's a great kickball player and super clever (he dubbed Noelle "No-LOL" without hesitation.) Sarah was the Smore master. Noelle, Erin and I ended the party around Mr. D's expertly crafted fire and then laughed in the kitchen for hours with Erin's friends.

Monday afternoon the family drove me to the airport. I'm thankful to have had the opportunity to get to know them. The trip gave me hope that even though college is over, friendships really will last forever. There's no way Erin's getting rid of me now! MUAHAHAHA.

Flying out of the city I admired the faint flicker of advertisements from Times Square imagining myself wandering amidst the skyscrapers. After a moment, clouds poured over my window leaving only my imagination to construct variations of my future.

How to avoid a mental breakdown during stressful holiday travel:

1. BE EARLY. Pack the night before so you have one less thing to worry about the day of travel. Get to the gate earlier than usual.
   
2. BE PREPARED. Pack light. Don't break the weight limit. Assemble a small emergency kit in case you get stuck in Cincinnati overnight with no contact solution, brush or change of clothes.
3. PACK RELAXING. Don't forget that little something that reminds you that it's not the end of the world. For me, that's my iPod. For Steve, that's a book about Wireless Security.
   
4. BRING A BUDDY. If possible, this will save your sanity and make the trip enjoyable. Steve and I have thoroughly enjoyed people watching and making fun of the weirdos we've been trapped with. You really learn a lot about strangers when you're with them in a small space for 6.5 hours.
   
5. MAKE FRIENDS. Everyone is trapped and cranky, just like you. Be friendly. Meet some new people. Commiserate. It will help pass time and you may realize that the complete stranger sitting next to you in the airport is not only cute and on the crew team at his college but also good friends with one of the 50 kids you went to high school with.
6. DON'T PANIC. You're going to hit some speed bumps in your holiday travels. Some may resemble a small but annoying tree branch like when the entire handle of Steve's suitcase ripped out while he was dragging it through 6 inches of snow and a blizzard. Other obstacles may resemble a deer speeding toward your windshield, like when all flights to Logan were being diverted to Providence or when we discovered we were two of over ten people trying to fly standby to Detroit and ended up stuck here in Cincinnati overnight instead. Panicking will not solve anything. Shrug it off. You will get home eventually.
   
7. BE PATIENT. Understand that everyone is extremely stressed out. Everyone hates the situation. Are screaming babies bringing out those voices inside your head tempting you to punt the baby down the aisle? Ignore them! Turn up your iPod, keep your feet on the ground and wait for the parents to control that demon child.
   
8. BE NICE. The airport attendants are dealing with hundreds of people just as upset and frustrated as you are. Smile and be polite when asking them why the hell you're still sitting in Logan Airport when you should have already made your connection, driven home and cracked a beer by now.
   
9. ASSESS YOUR OPTIONS. They're out there. Usually the airline will do what they can to help you. Delta has been great despite the situation. There's always another way to achieve your goal. Just take a deep breath and find it.
   
10. TAKE ADVANTAGE. I am in a comfy hotel with a confirmed flight (albeit not to my desired destination... there will be ground transportation bringing us the remaining three hours) and a food voucher for breakfast. Thank you, Delta.

Good luck out there, people. It's a rough one this year.

Trip home cont.

On my second flight home (D.C. to Detroit), I spent a lot of time trying to avoid the guy sitting next to me, who was determined to share his entire life story accompanied by home videos of his sons doing cartwheels in their pajama pants. After hearing about his 20 year high school reunion and his sister-in-law, I decided I had enough information about this stranger. I closed my eyes while he was telling me about his job at some computer company.

As I drifted off, I realized why I love flying. Aside from the people-watching of course.

Once you get past all the lines and annoying people on cell phones, you get on the plane and buckle up. For a certain amount of time, everyone sits there strapped in, technology disabled, sitting in a confined area. This is perhaps the only time we are really forced to turn everything off and sit in one spot. My favorite part is being above the clouds. It's almost as if everything disappears when you get that high. The clouds are so entrancing that I usually end up thinking about the shapes they make or the color of the sky instead of anything serious. The best part is, no matter what the day is like on the ground, whenever you fly above the clouds the sky is always sunny and blue. You can forget about the groggiest Boston rain storm after you rise above the clouds.

The same phenomenon occurs when I take the commuter rail to see Steve. Sitting in the seats, I forget about all the drunken decrepits riding next to me and become entranced by everything moving across through the window. In both planes and trains, someone else is taking you to your destination. You don't have to grip a steering wheel anticipating a kamikaze Michigan driver about to shoot out of nowhere. You can relax and enjoy the ride. Take a break. Think about nothing. Enjoy the scenery.

Of course none of this is relevant if you have an aisle seat, are squashed between two overweight travelers, or have a bipolar drunk telling you about the three-headed garden gnome waiting to pick him up in Worcester.

People in Worcester are weird.