Bottle of...oh hell, you know this part...(part the third)

Sunday morning in New York. It just sounds good to say. The procession of roommates heading into the shower, emerging clean and ready to face the day counted down to me.

Jon and Stephanie were gearing up to do some Oscar party shopping. Well, Stephanie anyway - Jon was locked into being deviled-egg boy. Let that be a lesson to all of you. If once you make the deviled eggs, forever will you be branded deviled-egg boy.

The SF3 downed coffee, hit the showers, and crawled out to the bustle of Sunday in New York - a much tamer version of the bustle of anyotherday in New York.

We grabbed a slice of pizza on the run and hoofed it the rest of the way to the Natural History Museum. Yeah the one from the movie, 'Night in the Museum.' Kelly is a docent there and she got us all tickets. We saw the gold exhibit (very shiney), the space collisions exhibit (very far out), and the butterfly exhibit (very fluttery).

I think my favorite was the one I least wanted to see - the butterflies. Go figure. It was just really cool to see all those colorful fluttery things. It might have been the perfect winter remedy. Just a thought.

We were going to have oysters at Grand Central Station, but the restaurant was closed on Sundays. Ended up at the Chat and Chew for a glorified slice of Americana New York style.

Went out for drinks at . Good times were had and wallets busted all around. Thanks to Eileen and Josh for carrying me over the finish line - life wouldn't have been the same without that sixth round.

Home to semi-drunken slumber.

*****

Monday morning on the edge of Harlem. The park across the lot and the circle out back already has people walking the fringes. Traffic noise, the hum of life, the city rousing from its slumber.



A light blanket of snow is on the ground as I look out the kitchen window. Inside everyone is quiet in their own sleep - what worlds they're travelling in their dreams I don't know.

Morning rolls on. Josh heads to work. I shower, pack, and climb down the three flights to the street. Stop at Central Park and watch a film crew setting up. Then underground for the 2 downtown and back up into the air for an hour of wandering near Macy's and Penn Station.

One last look around, a sigh, and back under the earth to leave New York City. The train, Newark, two planes, and back to piles of snow and short buildings. The end of a vacation - even a short one - is just plain depressing. It was a good weekend though, so that's a small price to pay.

Thanks guys for the great trip.