I have a co-dependent relationship with my City and this summer I got quite a beating.

I tried to fight her pissy attitude off with yoga classes.  I told her "I don't care what you do.  I am turning off my phone for a whole hour and a half and will think about something higher than myself.".  She laughed and served up a nasty thunderstorm and a touch-down tornado that flooded all my subways and locked me in my apartment.  Jerk.

I tell her "Fine, then I'll just stay in and I wont spend a dime!"  She raised her eyebrows and then raised the humidity to 105.  She zapped my power so I had nothing to distract me from myself- no internet, no cable, no YouTube.  I hit the streets for the nearest and coldest movie theatre and ordered a tub of popcorn and an extra large diet coke.  Damn her.

I tell her that I will be patient.  I will be fine.  I will wait for her to come running back with open arms.  But she doesn't and I actually find myself wandering into a Verizon store and asking them to scan my phone for defects.  It just doesn't seem to be ringing anymore.

It is almost October now, however, and I do believe the worst is behind me.  I feel she is finally letting her guard down and is softly telling me sweet secrets of cool nights, yellow full moons, and crisp apples at the Farmers Market.  She is even making a little effort.  She is decorating herself with petite round pumpkins that line café windows and sunflowers at the bodega.  Her new perfume is dark roasted afternoon coffee and ginger molasses cookies. 

God, she's beautiful when she's like this.  What a turn on.



Inspirational Cup: Visit Café Grumpy.  An amazing cup of coffee that turned my frown upsidedown.  Seriously.  www.cafegrumpy.com

So a phrase I am not allowed to say ever again: "I could do that with my eyes closed."
Because guess what.  I can't.

I can't even do things near-sighted.  As I attempted yesterday.  I'll explain.

I had a visit to the eye doctor and after multiple eye drops and stinging rays of horizontal light and look-up-look-down-look-left-look-rights, I had my pupils dilated.  I had never had this done before.  The doctor dropped some fluid in my eyes and 10 minutes later my pupils were as big as walnuts and suddenly I couldn't read, couldn't write, and I could forget about texting.  All I could do was sit there and watch as my world got blurrier and blurrier and blurrier.

I saw expressions on faces disappear.  I saw Exit signs melt into blobs of red.  The walls, the carpet, the furniture, the people- all morphed into one pastel impressionist painting and I was getting a headache.

The doctor called me in and shined more lights at me and said uh-huh-uh-huh then opened the door and just let me loose.  Alone.  Like this.  In the big bad City.

I was a pupil-dilated near-sighted mess.

The receptionist asked me to pick a date for a follow-up appointment.  I took out my planner but I couldn't make out the numbers much less the words I had scribbled underneath them.  I was flustered.  He took my planner, found a blank date, and wrote all pertinent information down for me.

I got into the elevator.  I waited for other people to push buttons.  Someone has got to be going down.  I was just along for the ride.

I needed money.  I went to an ATM.  I either took out 20 dollars or 2000.  Still no clue.  I printed out a receipt but that was a cruel joke.  I spit my gum into it and walked on.

I needed food.  I went to a deli.  I couldn't read a thing.  I stopped people.  "Does this have high-fructose corn syrup?"  They checked the label.  "How much does this cost?"  They checked the price tag.  "Can you tell me how much money I have?"  They checked my wallet.  I thanked them and then headed toward what seemed to be some form of a check out.

I needed to sit down.  I needed darkness.  I needed to hide.

I saw brown: oh good, a Starbucks.  I saw yellow: oh okay, a McDonald's.  I saw green: oh perfect.  Central Park.

I sat in the green shade and opened my lunch.  A man sat next to me.  Was he a bum?  A runner?  A model?  Do I offer him some food or is he clearly on a no-carb diet?  I smiled and nodded to some male figure.  Still no clue.

I closed my eyes.  I tasted my sandwich.  I listened to the trees, the birds, spits of one way cell phone conversations from passers-by.  And I tried to imagine what it would be like- if I was near-sighted forever.

No more reading horoscopes in the Post.  No more foreign films with subtitles.  No more late night surfing JCrew's online sale section.  No more looking into other people's eyes.

(Okay, so I know I could just get contacts and everything would be fine, but stay with me here in the Dramatic for a second...)

I would have to have someone read me menus.  And maps.  And what about music notes?  I would have to buy books on tape.  And trust sales women if they told me "you look skinny in those jeans" even if they were lying.  I would have to ask for help in Macy's, in Duane Reed (God forbid), and at the theatre to find my seat.  I would need people.  All the time.  Complete strangers.  And I would need to put my faith and trust in them.  Everyday.

 

The hours passed slowly as I sat there under the shady green in my dark glasses watching my blurry world go by.  And then ever so slowly, bit by bit, my fuzzy world began to crystallize, become clear, once again.

 

First it was a road sign.  Then a bearded face.  Then the small details on a woman's sweater.  Pearl earrings on sale in the window.  A stem on an apple.  The crevasses on my yoga mat.

 

It was all coming back.

 

Then I saw the grit on the subway.  Chicken bones on the sidewalk.  A middle finger shoot up from a cab window.  The fresh hole in my sandal.  A new zit coming in on my chin.  The "no new messages" logo on my phone.

I was all coming back alright.

And I didn't need anyones help anymore. 

Ah, Clarity.




Ericka's Shout Out:  To the US OPEN.  Man oh man.  What power!  What grace!  What focus!  I got to attend last Saturday and saw some major women upsets.  Underdogs were sweeping up the courts and all the points.  It was thrilling.  Go girls. Give it up.

Bizie-newsie:  Children's Benedryl commercial airing.

Favorite Quote of the Week:  Bill Maher on his New Rules: "No more plastic shoes"!

Thank you all for visiting my site.  It has been an exciting ride going live along side the release of Harry Potter's last adventure.  I know that most of you have not only purchased the book, but have finished reading it and now feel perfectly satisfied and yet oddly bored and are currently seeking new entertainment.  That is why, ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to make nice-nice with GoDaddy and be here for you, through your withdrawal.

Took me some time, I am not going to lie.  I ignored him for weeks.  Then curtly said hello.  He was pissed and wouldn't let me in.  We exchanged a few nasty words.  I logged out.  I got on the phone.  He resisted again.  So I took some time off.  Then came crawling back.  I need him more that he needs me it turns out.  So I am being gentle with my double clicks and hope that somehow this blog will magically post itself and we will have a long and beautiful relationship starting today.

So it is Sunday.  Beautiful Summer Sunday.  Thank God for Sundays.  The best things happen on Sundays don't they?  Brunches.  Naps.  The New York Times.  Kids playing kickball in the street.  Drinking chardonnay by 3pm.  An extra helping of couscous.  Why not?  It's Sunday!

Especially after the week that we have just had in New York - today feels like Mother Nature's apology:  I am so sorry it rained so bad you couldn't get to where you wanted to go.  I am so sorry that I made the sky green and the wind sweep your doors off.  I am so sorry it was 90 degrees in the morning and then 55 at night and you didn't think to bring a sweater with you.  My bad. 

That's okay, Mother Nature.  We are still friends.  You and GoDaddy.  I am all good feelings today and filled with naps on couches and optimism on technology and buckets of forgiveness.  Forgiveness and couscous.



Bizie-newsie: I am nominated for best visiting actress in Cincinnati for Reckless.  Pretty cool.  I'll let you know what the jury decides in Ohio.

Ericka's Shout Out:  Congrats to Julie and Katy for getting engaged!  Pretty sparkling rings on fingers and big huge promises shouted out loud.

Ericka's 2 Cents:  Friends recommended that I see Eurydice playing now at 2econd Stage.  Said it was a "treat".  It was.  I highly recommend it for all you theatre-people and those of you who dare not enter a theatre unless I drag you.  See it.  It might change your mind.  Beautiful show and indeed a treat for the eyes, ears, and heart. 

Side Note:  Inspired by the show I decided to pretend that I was Eurydice this week in the rain with my yellow umbrella.  Did you happen to catch my performance on the 7 platform?  It was indeed a private spontaneous showing but I feel it was especially appreciated by the MTA man yelling at me with the blow horn to "back away from the edge".  I like to think he was not only protecting my personal safety but commenting, with caution, on my complex display of emotional depth.  Who says you can't find an audience anywhere?