The very night before: Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire... An inferno that's blazing right next to the twelve outlet extension cord. Wires are criss-crossed over the fire place. Eight plug-ins on the brink of overload, protest by spitting sparks that boast pretty flames. They must shuffle their overloaded currents and various voltages to maintain an explosion and smoke free balance. The Christmas tree sways every now and then, threatening to drop a branch or two into the burning fiesta. But that's okay, no hard feelings whatsoever. Against the unruly tree that is. We have the fire department on speed dial......
So we left off last week, in expectations of a miracle. And of course, a list of my favorite things. This much we know. There will be no satin sashes in whatever color, involved. And there definitely will be no snow flakes on my nose and plucked lashes. I know this, because the temperature will not comply. Not because my lashes are eight strands less than it was an hour and twenty-three minutes ago. Do not blame my lashes. It has served me well thus far without help. And my nose? Well it can not be held responsible either. It is not a bridge that stuff should sit on it, nor is it a coat hanger. Anyways, let us try and make some sense of this blog before I forget what it is about. Or better still fall asleep.
Today I will be reporting live from 34th street. Well I had hoped to do just that before I got on the city bus. You see the adventure took a strange turn, when I got on the bus. Never a dull moment in my life, I must say. Came in search of some wondrous marvel, but encountered something else that got me thinking. It felt like my expectations had taken a hit, maybe not. They were high, my hopes I mean. So much so it would have been fodder for volumes of archives. But don't judge, I aim not only for a full cup but an overflowing one you see. Hey, why settle for the skyscraper when you can hit the sky itself. Now that is a story for another day and another blog. We have absolutely no space and time here for cloud soaring.
So where am I camping out on 34th street? I would really like to tell, but I am not prepared for the stampede that would ensue. Besides, my riot gear is at the dry cleaners this very moment. Something to do with a stain from bird droppings. Secondly, in all fairness. I am not quite sure this joint is paparazzi proof at all. I mean any volatile invasion whatsoever would flatten the roof and resources. So let us be considerate.
But what I could do however, is drop hints and pointers to finding this yuletide hideout. My readers are oh so brilliant, enough to handle vague clues and unrelated trails as they decipher non-existent locations. Bravo indeed.
Well back to me. It is my blog after all (smiley face). So I am sitting here, eating pizza, fried chicken and sipping my green coffee. And every chance I get, I steal wholesome glances at my waiting sundae. I promised it, that it was next on the gobble highway that is my esophagus. I intend to keep my word. So there you got it, as plain as day. That place that serves the aforementioned delicacies all at once. Now you know where to find me. See you in three minutes...
Or not really. I have to apologize. I left a long time ago. Had so much on my plate this day. No not food again, but important things to do.
So there I was, scurrying by in the rain that would not stop yesterday. Laden with enough packages to sink midtown Manhattan. The traffic was practically stalled, that people now stepped out to have a picnic. Not so? Then how do you explain the cab driver leaning against his car and eating a burger? As the rest of the world honked angrily. Or the lady crossing with one hand pushing the stroller and the other holding a cell phone and coffee cup. Yes, I know I have had a feast myself while traipsing back and forth between traffic lights. But I am not going to tell on myself. Why should I? Except of course the incident with the ice-cream and stained
scarf.....
Quick, we have to hurry with this story. So in order to protect my handbag and packages from the pouring rain, I wore a very large and bright poncho. And then held an even brighter umbrella. What a sight it was indeed. So large and bright was my poncho, that I wonder how many people crawled under it for refuge. Even but for a minute. Or better still attempted to approach me, thinking I was the traffic coordinator. Oh dear. On the outside I looked like I would have won a world record spot for being the largest, bumpy woman ever. But on the inside, I was a dry happy camper and so were my loot. Say what you may as you drip yourself dry. It was in that humongous state and mammoth outlook that I mounted the city bus. Yes I was a fire hazard waiting to happen but people loved on me anyhow. I am that irresistible. And please do not start with me about driving. I just mentioned six sentences ago, TRAFFIC WAS STALLED! And the bus has its own special lane. That is of course when every other driver is not illegally on it.
No sooner had I wiggled my cramped body and luggage through the defiant passengers standing vigil right in front of the door. A very much older lady offered me her seat. Hmmm... I thought to myself. Is not 'beauty' supposed to offer 'age' her seat? And not the other way around. Well a miracle this is gearing out to be I mused to my happy self. That was until I heard her next question, without also thinking about the answer I gave. "Wow!" She said with a smile. "How far along are you?" Said I instantly with just as wide a smile; "About two hours and a couple of minutes now." Hey, I had been running around for almost three hours! I would like to tell you what happened after her eyes rolled back and she swooned to the left. But I do not have the time today, or in this lifetime.
Then it dawned on me, as a good Samaritan administered an outdated form of CPR on the heaving woman. That I had given the wrong answer to an equally wrong question. So to the dear lady on the bus. Thank you for the seat offer, it was a very kind gesture. And I consider it a MIRACLE, that you did not have a cardiac arrest. As for your question, I was no further along when I left the house than when I got on the bus. I have all these bags hidden under this tent that serves as a raincoat. But I will tell you who is so far along, that she is actually very close. It is my dear friend Mary. She is about nine months along right now. And in two days there will be an amazing burst of celestial glory and eternal jubilation. As goodwill and peace is deposited in these corrupt soils.
However, I do hope we stay in touch. So that when I do not have any packages to declare, but the real deal. You will have a front row seat of rejoicing with me. But till then, let us celebrate Mary and her yet to be born boy child. Have yourself a very miraculous and Merry Christmas!
NB: Now that is my favorite thing ever, on my list. The greatest story ever told. The very sound of CHRISTMAS itself.