What happens when you put a small town ding-dong in a place like New York City?
You get Stacie, fly down, walking into traffic, talking to strangers, limping in the wrong shoes, tripping over celebrities, comparing the smell of garbage, exhaust and homeless people on every corner to the blooming flowers in Saratoga.
Yes, we had a lovely trek through the city on Sunday. Thank you for asking.
Corey and I went with his friend Jim to see his super talented daughter perform in an off-off Broadway version of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Being a Shakespeare-for-Dummies flunky, I spent much of the time mouthing, "what the heck are they saying??" to Corey and listening for laughter cues from the audience. I do think, though, I understood the main premise of the play:
There was a guy who likes a girl who is betrothed to a guy who likes the same girl, but the girl likes the other guy. Another girl likes the guy the first girl doesn't like and at some point a fairy guy places a spell thing on them all and a crazy mixed up love triangle happens.
Then another fairy girl gets the same spell treatment and falls in love with a doofus actor. This has something to do with a baby. I have no idea where this baby fits in.
The fairy guy then fixes all the spells and the guy that likes the girl that likes the guy like each other again, and the other girl who likes the other guy still likes him, but he now likes her back and they all watch a horrible play at the king and his new wife's house. I get the impression she isn't a fan of him, but that could just be the acting. I do understand the backstage ickies that can cause a person to loathe romantic on stage scenes. And that is hard to mask.
Even though there were no props and no set and no costumes, the guys in front of me were getting a little fresh...with each other, and my experience in the ladies room probably gave me scabies, I very much enjoyed the show and our very brief NYC experience.
But there is just something about home. And my flamingo pajamas. And Oliver. And warm cookies and milk enjoyed wrapped in a fluffy green blanket while watching the History channel. And knowing I will never have to worry about running into Lucy Liu on the streets of Saratoga with nothing for her to sign but my arm, a brand new umbrella, or leather purse.
Ahhhh, home. There really is no place like it.