Saturday morning, I walked to the yellow line and took the N train to 42nd and Broadway, right next to my office. I waited for Bubbie (my grandmother) in Starbucks, seeing NYC the quietest I believe I have ever seen it. We took a bus to Toms River, New Jersey, where my 93 year-old Great Grandfather, Harry, picked us up in his new Acura. Now, I'm the biggest driving critic some will ever meet. I would have to say that Gramps did really well behind the wheel for being seven years shy of 100 years-old.
We pulled up to the house that I have not been to in five years. It was exactly as I had remembered it, just smaller. I walked in the door and smelled the unforgettable smell of Chicken Cacciatore taking over the house. Before I could finish my sentence, my Nanny Marian came running over to me and started hugging me and started yelling the same thing that she does every time I come to her house and every time we speak on the phone, "You took your first steps right here in this kitchen, I remember it! Don't you ever forget it! This kitchen right here!"
Now, this is my Italian side of the family. So at 1pm, we sat down for dinner. I was wondering why Nanny kept calling it dinner, but when I saw the kitchen, I saw enough food to feed us until the sun went down. We had salad, bread, bruschetta, chicken cacciatore, and pasta with home made Italian gravy. And then desert came. Two different types of cakes, a plate of pastries, a bowl of grapes, a bowl of watermelon, a bowl of Jell-o, and coffee. When I got up I felt imbalanced and thought I was going to pull a narcoleptic move and pass out standing up. I returned to Long Island and assured my family that there was no need for me to be fed for the next few days.
Sunday, I went back into the city and met up with my cousin, Stevie and I had only mentioned the fact that I was starving 800 times. We wound up at CPK, mainly because of the fact that we already knew what we wanted. However, Stevie took it upon herself to browse through the menu, stalling to put our order in, taking another 10 minutes. She ordered the first thing that she originally wanted. Cute.
We then started to walk in the direction of her place on 74th and west end from 60th and 3rd. While cutting through Central Park, we started to pass the Drum Circle. Passing the Drum Circle became dropping our bags and dancing until we noticed that the sun was starting to go down. We started walking until Stevie pulled me in another direction and brought me to a group of people that she started dancing with for fun a few years ago. I sat, because sweating in skinny jeans after dancing for 45 minutes is not what I consider ideal. Somehow, Stevie succeeded to pull me in and almost instantaneously I mastered the line dances that everyone was doing in the middle of the park. We stayed for a little over an hour, but I never would have known because at that moment in time, I had never felt so happy and free, dancing my ass off in the middle of Central Park.
Until next time.