perfect imperfect

i managed to have a perfect imperfect morning.

it's beautiful today. yet somehow i managed to be completely stressed out by like 8am.

so i took a walk before work. and ended up, of course, at washington square park. the water is just now being turned on to fill the fountain for the coming summer season so the steps remain dry.

i climbed in to take a seat, joining a few morning dwellers. i popped in the tell-tale white earbuds of my ipod. tilted my head toward the sun. and closed my eyes.

this was one of those times my ipod had a brain and played just what i needed, just when i needed it. "new slang" by the shins, followed by "bled white" by elliott smith, and the trilogy concluded with the incomparable "under pressure" by david bowie and queen.

during the last song, as i realized i should get going, i lifted my head and opened my eyes.

there i was.

the only one left sitting in the fountain at washington square park. that happens like hardly ever. sure there were still people around. people walking around me heading to and fro, here and there.

but i was the only one sitting in this little tub in the middle of the park.

and it felt like somehow this city that can be so overwhelming and demanding had given me three songs of breathing room.

doll baby

on fifth avenue there is a store that defies explanation. it's almost mythical.

American Girl Place.

this is more than a store. it's an experience. it's a documentary waiting to happen.

little girls and their million dollar dolls step through the doors and it's not just that they are catered to as star clientele . . . this is THEIR world. top of the line dolls to buy and befriend line the shelves. boutiques of designer clothes - but not only DOLL clothes. also GIRL clothes to match their dolls. girls can stroll over to the salon to get the american doll's hair and nails done. does it sound like a long day? maybe getting hungry? speak with the prim lady at the imposing doors of the exclusive fine dining room to make a reservation for tea or lunch. mom, girl, and doll each have a seat.

all the while, as these girls with their dolls revel in this magical - if not slightly bizarre - place, a single file line of young women stroll throughout the store - in and out of departments, up and down escalators - chanting and singing American Girl refrains.

who will these little girls become? these little girls who are taken to this store where they buy outfits that match their doll? these little girls that take their doll to a salon to have their hair and nails done? these little girls that make a reservation in an exclusive dining room so they can tea party with their doll baby?

i was the little girl who butchered my own doll's hair with the kitchen shears. i had tea parties on the living room floor with cracked tea cups. tap water was my "tea." ritz crackers were my "biscuits." and the only refrains my doll baby and i had repetitiously playing in the background was Madonna's "Lucky Star."

still . . . i think i turned out ok.

master

i graduated today. and on this day two rather extraordinary things happened.

after the ceremony, my good friend kathy and i stood outside amidst a sea of graduation gowns. i suppose it was clear that something big had just taken place as a small asian girl in her teens walked up and asked kathy and i, "can i take a picture with you?" "WITH me?" i asked. she clarified, "yes. we are from Thailand." kathy and i giggled and agreed to the picture. and were suddenly surrounded by a small group of teen tourists from thailand, smiling. as they walked away, we couldn't help but wonder what they might have thought they just had taken a picture of.

in a city of 8 million people, 1 good-hearted man found my lost cell phone in a cab. offered to return to madison square garden 2 hours later after my ceremony. and when he did. had to be coerced into accepting a reward. even after i clobbered him with a grateful hug.

southern hospitality

my parents got in town today. not for mother's day. that was pure coincidence. as we sat in washington square park, mom and pop watched all the sites go by. big dogs. small dogs. wacky clothes. lack of clothes. people mumbling to themselves.

one man in particular walked by. sort of paused. seemed to have a conversation with himself. or, rather, an argument. he seemed distraught. he walked away. suddenly he reappeared. he walked up to my mother and said, "excuse me, miss? i mean, ma'am? i just want to wish you a happy mother's day. i hope you have many more. it's a beautiful day. the sun is shining. enjoy it."

my mother kindly agreed and thanked him - as southern ladies are taught to do.

as he walked away, she turned to my father and me and remarked, "and they say new yorkers aren't nice."

ABCs

this evening i sat at a bar with my dear friend vanisha and was served my pint of stella by a cherubic-faced 5 year old boy. seriously people. a 5 year old boy was behind the bar. with the glass. being held by his mother. while he pulled the tap. and poured a perfect pint.