Scramble

I have one more weekend in town, so I will spend it in a dress at Coney Island, getting a terrible sunburn, wading in freezing water, playing Skeeball, winning matching bracelets with my interview subject, techno bumper cars, then riding the Cyclone, which is terrifying, because if you were to put your arm out, it would be torn off, and the ride would not stop, and the cars feel like they are about to fly through the rickety wooden slats.

I will spend it dropping chicken fingers on the boardwalk, avoiding glass on the pier, falling asleep on the ride home and seeing the Cool Kids for the second and maybe last time, and getting a drink spilled on me by a belligerent concertgoer. I will play in a hydrant and put my hands in a pond-smelling fountain in Tribeca and try to make people smell them and walk and think it is the hottest I have ever felt and finally go to that place near my apartment which is very romantic but often empty and have the best turkey burger I ever have in my entire life by candlelight.

Then I will spend the next day trying to write, barely leaving my apartment, only to buy Pepsi, and I will distract myself from finishing my book by trolling websites and posting on this blog. Kicking the blanket off and turning the air on, looking outside and wishing for rain. I will get on the phone and try to talk to everyone I know because I will miss them when I am gone.

I will not make a list of things to buy for the trip, plan my last night out, pack, move, or anything else...and I will not feel bad about it because I am responsible like that.

I am full of great ideas today...