Manhattan.

Man, what a downer of a post to leave up for so long. We will now return to our regular programming.

We'll call this post:
What I Learned From My Recent 3-Day Trip to Manhattan.

1) One of the biggest regrets of my life took place long, long ago, when my parents were ordering me my Big Girl Going Off To College Luggage. This was before rolling carry-ons were the Norm, and I remember my mom and dad saying something like, "Oh look, Em: they offer an option to have wheels put on your luggage. That would be convenient." To which I said: "Wheels? Why would I want wheels on my luggage?" Then I probably haughtily re-applied my Blue Raspberry LipSmackers and retreated to my room to call my friend Lizzy and whine to her about how lame my parents were.

Flash forward to Emily on 09/10/2007, fumbling around O'Hare with her ridiculous non-wheeled duffel bag, cursing under her breath at her Teen Stupidity. We'll just chalk that one up to being one of many things that, if I ever write an autobiography, will fit into a part of my history I like to call "Perpetual Head Up The Ass: Emily's Teen Years."

2) I overpack. My sister underpacks. We are polar opposites. Anyways, this led to a few foibles on our trip. Mine had to do with an emergency FedEx shipment of clothes I hadn't worn being sent to my parents, to allow space for new purchases. My sister's involved multiple trips to Duane Reed for Band-Aids to cover the blisters on her feet from her one pair of shoes, and being self-conscious that her business attire wasn't cut out for the flashy New York Business Scene, reinforced by a bum on the street calling her "elegant."

3) If they would let me, I would live at the Nintendo World Store. All I'd need were some Pokemon sheets, my plush Yoshi and a Nintendogs alarm clock. I would then spend the rest of my days laying in bed with the trusty DS, rotating between Animal Crossing, Brain Age and Picross.

4) My Midwestern urge to fill awkward silences with witty banter is completely lost on New York waiters and cashiers.

5) But the cabbies! Oh, the cabbies. All of my cab drivers were extremely nice, laughed heartily at my jokes, and were totally helpful. I want to think this is because they're just like that, but maybe word got around that there was a red-headed Midwesterner in Manhattan, who can't do simple math to make tips so was making up for it by just "rounding up." Waaay up.

6) Manhattan businesswomen are a whole breed unto themselves. A breed we like to call "Complete and Utter Bitch." I got practically knocked to the ground by not one, not two, but three different women while I was walking. However, the last one was worth getting hit by her Chanel bag, because that chick was busy having the most entertaining cell phone call I've ever had the pleasure of overhearing. She was talking all about "that selfish prick" who "practically broke up" with her that morning, so she "threw his cell phone out the window. That will show him. What a fucking bastard."

****

So that was what I learned from my brief trip to NY. I didn't take nearly as many photos as I should have, but that was mainly because if I stopped too many times to catch a picture, a Manhattan Businesswoman probably would have pinned me to the ground and eaten out my heart for some added protein before she hit the gym for 2.5 hours of elliptical.

New York: I love you. But you're so big - I'm going to have to visit you like 20 more times before I feel I've seen enough of you. But not until I save up some money, because Holy Shit, you are expensive.