Karma's not always a bitch...

(cue music) "Vacation...all I ever wanted...Vacation...having to get away..." (fade out)

This week I was on vacay from the MIA and headed to the big, bad apple to visit friends, buy an apartment, see shows, and possibly change careers. That's what I do on my week off.

Anyway, my luck in New York City is unreal (knock on wood) and it never ceases to amaze me when the crowds disperse and opportunities suddenly come my way.  My first bag of Dale and Thomas Popcorn was free cause the credit card machine wasn't working, Christian, Santi, and I got fifth row center seats to Sunday in the Park with George for thirty bucks, and I had my own row on my jetblue flight to Florida so I slept it out. 

On our way back from the show the boys and I ran into a blind couple on the corner of 55th and Bway...I mean, we didnt physically run into them, but they flagged us down to flag them a cab to the Upper West Side. So, Christian gets his "Go Go Gadget" arm prepped and begins to hail them a cab...then i realize that I totally know this woman. Her name is Joanie and she is a vocal coach who does vocal rehabilitation for the mentally and physically disabled. I met her on the train once, she heard me talking to my friend Ryan and thought I sounded friendly. She needed someone to walk her out of the train station and asked me if I was a singer...which, of course, I am...and she is the first person to tell me that my speaking voice actually sounded like a singer's (as opposed to someone with tons of tongue tension who speaks on vocal frye...I dont know how to spell that term...). The point is...that was in 2005 and I have not seen her since then and what are the chances of running into her on the street three years later???

You have to wonder why strange, weird, things happen to certain people...and I have often wondered that myself. Then one day I was hauling an old fashioned wheelchair down 8th ave for a Benefit and I realized that I was one of those weird people who do weird things...(it wasnt the first time I had pushed something along the busy street of 8th ave...when we were moving from rehearsals to the theatre during BKLYN I was responsible for wheeling all of the rubbermaid, containerstore containers filled with staples and rubber bands from 42nd up to 45th...and I was determined not to ask for help and make it one trip...it took approximately 30 minutes to get 3 blocks...)

Like, someone probably went home that day and said "I saw some curly haired teenage girl in a suit pushing an old fashioned wheel chair down 8th ave in the middle of the day...what a crazy place!"

So, its my fault. Weird things happen to me because I do weird things. 

That is why I love New York City. 

One is not a degree...

Ummm...so I am not the slightest bit political, but let me say, for the record, that I no longer believe in Global Warming. Nothing about the "globe" is at all "warm"at the moment. Al Gore might want to take a visit to Appleton,Wisconsin and watch as his fingers become frozen to his large diet coke from Subway...just saying...

I thought that the coldest I would ever be in my life was in Boston aught 2003 when we decided to walk the Freedom Trail in March. In Boston. In March. Outside. The Freedom Trail. Phillip and Christian took my blue fleece hat, covered my face, and led me through the Commons while I screamed as if I was on a roller coaster. In my mind I was on a roller coaster...a roller coaster headed straight for Antarctica and icebergs and death and the whole scene from Titanic kept spinning over and over in my head..."just let go"...I wanted to just let go...

But the boys kept me from jumping off the ledge and lead me back to Phillips warm apartment with the cliche cup of hot chocolate and matching I (heart) NY tshirts and glow in the dark star pajama pants...

Well, I WAS WRONG...The coldest I would ever be in my life was this morning at the Appleton airport when walking through the Hertz rental car parking lot. 

We showed up at 7 this morning to rent a car for the drive from Appleton (which is in Wisconsin) and Detroit (which is north of Canada, just fyi) and the Hertz grandma worker woman kept saying.."I am sorry the only car I have is at the very end of the lot." "I am so sorry."

Anthony and I just kept looking at each other, thinking how friendly and overly concerned these Midwesterners are,and we were like...yeah, yeah, lady...where's the car??

It was in Bumble Fuck North Pole is where it was and as Anthony and I rolled all of our earthly posessions along the snowy asphalt I began to lose feeling in my hands. 

First they felt cold, then they ached, then they burned (which actually felt a little good), next up was the feeling that they might just completely break off, then it felt like I had pins and needles in every nerve ending on my hand, wishing I could go back to the breaking off feeling, trying to break them off, realizing that I couldnt even feel one hand enough to try to break the bones of the other hand...

We got into the car and funbled with the keys, heat, trunk...anything that required touching cause shooting pains in our purpley blueish hands. Anthony and I were about to cry when I realized I couldnt hear...or rather, I could hear,but I couldnt feel my ear. The right one. At all. 

Sitting in the car for about ten minutes while trying to regain feeling in either my hands or my ear was some of the worst time spent in my life. (No offense Anthony, you were wonderful company and if I wanted to be in excruciating pain in a parking lot in Wisconsin with anyone, it would be you)

Luckily, my hands are now fully functioning, in their best baby claw way, and my ear has faded from a maroonish teal color to its natural skin tone. Anthony has also fully physically recovered but I am not sure when the emotional scars will heal for either one of us. 

I was born in Florida. This shouldnt happen to me. 

Innappropriate times at Kroger...

Let me set the scene...its a beautiful day in Richmond,VA...we are playing the Landmark Theatre on the VCU campus and have a double show day. At the end of the evening Adam decides he wants to go home and make a yogurt parfait (one of his many special talents), so we head to the Kroger on campus to pick up the necessary accoutrements. 

The campus Kroger is bustling and Adam and I are easily distracted as we search through the aisles for honey and granola. Suddenly, a young man comes sliding by us in his Kroger t-shirt with no shoes on. Like, working in a grocery store with food and such, and no shoes. 

"Excuse me, are you not wearing shoes?"- me

"Yeah...I stepped in salsa."- Teenage Kroger employee bitter about life cause he is working the Saturday night late shift so he is just trying to amuse himself by sliding down market aisles in his socks. 

"Ah. Carry on then. "- me

Checking in with Adam (who now has obtained a banana, an apple, a pear, a nectarine, strawberries, raspberries, yogurt, honey, and granola...ummm...so I dont know how this became a recipe blog all of a sudden. Sorry for the random details about the foodstuff...I must be hungry) we head to the check out line...and then IT HAPPENS...The craziest, most innappropriate, disgusting, thing that has ever happened in a check out line...

There is a man with no underwear on and pants that begin about halfway down his ass cheek and a jacket that stops at his midriff in front of us. There was easily 7-8 inches of visible, full on crack. It was as if we were being mooned...He was old and leathery...and obviously insane. The contents of his cart were as follows:

200 20 oz bottles of Mountain Dew

a bushel of bananas

one cheese log

and no underpants to speak of...

On the positive side of life, it felt like a holiday, or like we had all been locked in an elevator for hours together. Every Kroger shopper within eye shot of the ass man felt a bond with one another and we were able to share things with one another that we never would have had the opportunity if we only encountered fully clothed civilians...

"I was just trying to buy stuff for a party and then this happened..."-clearly nerdy college sophomore who was making sure we knew he was heading to a partay!

"I thought I could handle it, but I am not sure..."- group of guys behind us who were very proud of their upcoming natty light purchase

"You are stronger than me, I had to switch lines."- me, congratulating the girl in front of us in line, who had spent at least six minutes diverting her eyes from the cavernous crack in front of her

As Adam and I moved away from the ruler sized amount of ass crack we struggled through the self checkout and inadvertently stole raspberries, two Cadbury eggs, and charged ourselves 4 cents for a leechee. Mad Eye Mooney apparently was able to pay for his caffeine and cheese log supply and I was pretty sure he was going to get off and we were going to be arrested for shoplifting as we walked out. Our plan was to plead insanity. Insanity due to increased and totally unecessary exposure to a strange derriere ditch...