After a week in Ohio for Labor Day visits with family and cabaret work, I am back in the city. I arrived on Friday night, and it has been a busy few days...or at least interesting, if not packed with activity.
I ran Race for the Cure NYC on Sunday morning. The race was in Central Park and it was HUGE! The official numbers say a little over 25,000 people officially participated, but between family, friends and supporters there had to be a lot more than that gathered in the park. It was inspirational and overwhelming at the same time. The run in the park was beautiful, and it gave me a chance to clear my head and be thankful for all the blessings in my life...not the least of which is my clean diagnosis from my own breast biopsy earlier this year. I beat my time from lasat year's race in Cleveland by about a minute. I might have been even faster, but with so many people, I had to dodge a fair amount of walking. At any rate, I was pleased with the outcome.
To treat myself after the race, I went and got a pedicure on Monday...a pink pedicure. It was heaven! In general, I'm not a frequent "spa treatment" kind of gal. I'm particular about who I let cut and style my hair. A massage once in a blue moon, maybe. I'm just not one to jump at a weekend spa retreat with the works...unless someone else is footing the bill. :) Still, pedicures are something I like to treat myself to regularly, if I can. Sure, I have a little foot spa at home and I can do them myself (and I do, don't get me wrong). However, professionals are always so much better at it than I am, particularly when it comes to applying the nail polish. So, now I have perfectly filed and painted pink toenails.
In the several days that I have been back from Ohio, I have noticed quite a number of private arguments unfolding rather publicly right before my eyes. In my first three days home, I witnessed just as many quarrels. I couldn't tell you what all of them were about. The only one I remember distinctly was the most recent. A couple on the subway was arguing about whether or not they should have spent money on the the 32-inch LCD television that was now sitting at their feet. As their heated debate went on, I sat across from them trying to remain in my own world, not pay too much attention. It got me thinking. In this city, you can have complete anonymity and a complete lack of privacy all at the same time. Why not have it out right there on the subway? In a city of over 8 million people, where are you going to go to be alone? Even if you scream and yell in the "privacy" of your own apartment, at the very least the neighbors are probably going to hear you. Yet, at the same time, it's New York City. Nobody cares! Everyone else on that subway got off at their appropriate stop and went about their business, most likely never to see that arguing couple again.
Speaking of the neighbors hearing things...yesterday Jeremy and I were working in our spare bedroom office, and we overheard someone in an adjacent building singing Whitney Houston's version of "I Will Always Love You" at the top of their lungs...a capella. (They may have actually had the recording on in their apartment, but we certainly didn't hear it.) I'm talking belt-your-face-off singing at the top of their lungs, and not very well. It was like listening to an Americal Idol audition, only without Simon there to put a stop to it. We had to giggle. It was the funniest thing we heard all day. We have no idea who it was, and we haven't heard her singing since. That's New York!
