In the latest episode of a seemingly endless series, I seem to be somewhat strapped of cash these days. Waifish in the wallet. Touchy with the tender. Light on the liquid. If you catch my drift.
Doubtless, this stems from working in the overwhelmingly remunerative field of the performing arts, supplemented by the astonishing riches that are to be had as a freelance editor. Back up all this cash with my rather tenuous grasp on accounting, and girl, you are in biznezz!
Yeah, I’m kinda broke, by my standards. But that hasn’t stopped me from booking a scandalously extravagant trip to NYC for four days (and three wild, crazy nights!) in August, a trip that includes staying at a rather swanky midtown Manhattan hotel, excellent seats at TWO consecutive Yankee games, and the strong possibility of seeing a performance of Avenue Q on Broadway.
See, the thing is, I have an awesome family.
I did not by any means grow up at any economic level above lower middle class. Think: the living room from Roseanne. That was my house, only with more Newfoundland hair, and all their attendant odors. I was never able to have junior-high sleepovers, because of the dog-stench.
But then I charmed my way into a very good school, and got myself nicely, and quite liberally, educated. Then I worked a bunch, went to grad school, worked a bunch more, and saved a little bit of money. Then I mortgaged my soul to buy a nightclub, idealistically believing in the healing and income-generating power of live music, and then I lost all my savings and sold the nightclub at cost.
Then I moved back to my hometown.
While I was busy doing all of this, some members of my family rose in the world. And I apparently rose in their esteem. So a couple of them like to occasionally shower me with the sweet, sweet gift of travel, which they know is all I really desire.
And when they called to ask what I might like for my birthday (did I mention I recently had a birthday?), I hesitantly mentioned my growing cabin fever and wanderlust and craving for bright lights and all-night everything.
So they are sending me to New York City. Because they rock. And because I have somehow convinced them that I roll.