January 16, 2010 So happy new year, first of all. And congratulations on finishing up those college applications; now you just get to sweat for a couple months.
But enough about you. Let's talk about ME. After untold hours struggling with my Internet connection, I am reporting to you live from New York City. And let me be the first to say: OH MY GOD. The apartment is out of control. All of the windows - and there are a lot of them - directly face the Statue of Liberty. The view is so utterly gorgeous that I could literally break down weeping right now. And the terrace - don't even get me STARTED about the terrace. And we have a DISHWASHER (which is a big deal when you get to college, believe me). But I digress.
The trip was decent, although I barreled through it with my characteristically bitter, I'm-two-seconds-from-going-postal-no-seriously attitude. I left on a 6 a.m. flight to Salt Lake City, had an hour layover and then flew into JFK, where we had to sit on the ground for an hour and a half because they "didn't have a gate." (Confidential to the flight attendants on Delta 94: I'm sorry I lost it at you. I know it wasn't your fault. But since I'm not legally allowed to enter the cockpit and lay into the pilot, you were the next best thing.) Following this, I took what can I will conservatively describe as the single most harrowing, death-defying cab ride in the history of motorized vehicles. My driver was going 90 miles per hour in a 45 zone on the shoulder around a cop. And if the situation requires that many prepositional phrases, you know it had to be scary.
But as soon as I got to the apartment, all was well. Now if I can just figure out where to get my food without spending my parents' retirement fund, I'll be all set.