I spent four hours in a car last night. Not that the company wasn’t great, but Paul and I left work at 5:30, spent 45 minutes getting just to 23rd street to pick up Scott, then another THREE HOURS GETTING TO ASTORIA. On 3rd avenue, we were going about a block every three minutes. I saw dead grandparents actually walking faster than us.
But when I got to Astoria, man, sweet freedom! I jumped into my own car at 9 PM and was happily surrounded by a veritable puppy pile of lovely sympathetic friends by 9:28PM, in Brooklyn. We ate and laughed and listened to music until 11, and by then one more guest was added to our apartment – Neff needed to get to LGA in the morning and Stuart and I couldn’t help wanting to help, so we waited til he’d packed, did the four Brooklyn dropoffs and one pickup, and got back to Astoria to catch exactly four hours of sleep. Then I woke up, drove Neff to LGA in my pyjamas, and came back to shower before the 7AM commute into the city.
Today, I’m leaving here at 3:45 and we’re going to try to go over the bridge from Stuart/Scott’s downtown office and fight our way north through Brooklyn. I’m hoping it won’t be another four hours, but if it is, well, there’s always the I Spy game.
Aside from my awesome friends and Stuart for being THE best copilot ever, the people I really have to thank here is my parents for having the uncanny foresight to leave me with their car this week and for filling the tank. The loves I’ve got for them knows no bounds.
* If you’re already sick of hearing about driving around Manhattan in frantic, useless circles and then collapsing in bed, you’d best not visit the blog til the strike is over. Believe me when I say it’s all anyone ever talks about anymore here.