|a very dangerous bar|
Yesterday I returned from 36 hours in New York City where I attended some business meetings, missed my reservation at Ko (infuriating and a long story), stayed in an "interesting" budget hotel called the Pod, coveted the pink Oriental rugs at ABC Carpet, and drank two rye manhattans at Bemelemans Bar, which is a beautiful, beautiful bar but if you ever go there you should not drink two manhattans because each Bemelmans manhattan is like two ordinary manhattans and you will regret them, especially if you have to get up a few hours later and board a 6 hour flight and then, on your way home from the airport, stop at the feed store and buy 2 bales of alfalfa hay, 100 pounds of chicken crumbles, 100 pounds of goat complete, and a bottle of iodine in anticipation of a goat birth. The walls of Bemelmans are decorated with murals by Ludwig Bemelmans, the author of the Madeline books, and it is very cozy and charming. They give you cheese straws and if you drink two manhattans, I recommend you eat a lot of cheese straws.
Tuesday, pre-Bemelmans, I was in a moderately good mood when I stepped out of a taxi, slammed the door, and realized I had left my wallet on the seat. The cab drove away. I had no money! I had no driver's license! I would be unable to board the plane 12 hours hence! Forty-five panicked seconds later, I found the wallet in an odd pocket of my overly large purse. Elation. I was no longer in a moderately good mood, I was now in a great mood -- much better than before I'd "lost" the wallet. Is there a name for this sudden enhancement of mood following a brush with minor catastrophe? Maybe in German?
I now felt radiant -- light and happy and bouncy because it was a sunny evening in New York City, I was going to meet my nice editor for a drink, and I hadn't lost my wallet. I was wearing my favorite dress and a new sweater, the meetings were over, and, holy smokes, I felt awesome. About one minute later, I tripped. Didn't fall, but staggered and a woman smiled at me sympathetically and I felt briefly silly the way you do when you almost fall in public. But much, much sillier than I would have if I hadn't been feeling so bouncy and radiant a minute before. Is there a name for this? It's what happens to Sarah Jessica Parker in her tutu in the opening credits of Sex and the City. I recovered quickly, though was not quite so light and happy and bouncy.
Shortly thereafter, I went and merrily drank those two manhattans and yesterday I was not at all light and happy and bouncy. There's a word for yesterday.
We're leaving on spring break tomorrow, going to Spain to visit my sister-in-law who is married to a Spaniard and living in Santiago de Compostela. Our whole family is going, plus a 15-year-old cousin from Seattle. It's been quite a stunning travel year for us.
Meanwhile, my father is staying at our house, feeding the chickens and attending to Natalie for 10 days during which time she may or may not kid. He is a great father.