I Luff NY

Okay, I don’t really, but maybe this time will turn it around.  I’m going to New York next month since the first time I went in 2001 for the Macy’s Day Parade. 

I can still see the burning pile of what-used-to-be-WTC from the top of the empire state building, all the disgusting sbarro pizza and McDonald’s I was subject to eat on top of practicing dancing for 7 hours a day or so, accidentally buying crack pipes in front of our chaperon (they were for our boyfriends, and we didn’t realize they were crack pipes) (give us small town Texans a break), and Kristi having a mild freakout on the plane trip home (she had every right to – if I wore a turban and was riding a plane, seriously, I’d probably realize that was the WRONG year to bring “How to Fly Planes” on board and sit in an aisle seat).  Not to mention the homeless woman who almost bit me, while everyone around me thought it was a dog barking.  WRONG!

So older guy and I are going to New York.  How did he ask me?  It was in July, I think, and I was mid-bite into a cupcake on South Congress and damn near choked when I realized that “Hey, I have tickets for the US Open in September.  It’s going to be great.  Unfortunately I’ve been having some difficulty finding someone to go with me.  Think you’d know anyone?  Maybe someone that hates their job and has a lot of vacation time to use?” was about me.

CHOKE on Hey Cupcake!’s Vanilla Dream, Homer Simspson’s dream cupcake with pink frosting and sprinkles.

While I calm down, brush cupcake off my skirt, and try not to have South Congress traffic blow my skirt completely off, I immediately turn him down, with a number of catch phrases such as “You’re insane,” “I can’t possibly”, “that’s too much”, “I can’t accept this large gift”, and the said-too-much “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you”…

Needless to say he was not too happy about my reactions. 

A dinner at Home Slice, two movies, and about eight hours later he finally convinces me.  I still think this is a good idea only in the back of my head, because, good lord, I haven’t told any of my friends about him and only one has met him.  And I haven’t even told my sister.  Crap.  She’s really going to give me the third degree on this – because CLEARLY I have done an excellent job picking out men for myself over the past half decade – er, life.

Although I gave in, I have not stopped insisting on my initial rejection.  Not even after two weeks of continued accuse of him and the perfect, predetermined murder. (if anything happens to me I have a Google document with his name, phone number, email, work email, and his frequent flyer number and I WILL tell people how to access it!)  Be ready to have myself check-in on foursquare, gowalla, what have you – I bet a murder mystery tracking me through those would make an excellent movie.

But this time it should be pretty fun.  We will be up there through the September 11th weekend, so they better have this whole mosque-next-to-the-used-to-be-WTC thing figured out.