Right now I'm sitting in my hotel room in Soho; looking out over a busy NY street, tapping away on my macbook.. "Big" should be pulling up any moment (although I always preferred Aiden) and I'm still a bit drunk from my boozy lunch with Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte. (Everyone thinks they're Carrie don't they.) This should be an epic moment for me, I really want it to be. It almost is except I'm on my 4th hour of an SNL marathon as I can't leave the hotel room due to all the ugly crying I've been doing..
Oh I'm hopeless. I'm George Bush at a meeting involving numbers. I'm a huge failure as a traveler my friends.
I thought I could be like Madonna in "Suddenly seeking Susan" and Sarah Jessica Parker and the Gossip girl cast all combined into one all powerful New York conquering goddess.. I'm trying to be. I've worn all my best tutus and sat in cafes but the truth is: I miss my kids and the dog and my husband. (Yes, maybe in that order. Of course not in that order. Maybe a little bit in that order.)
The last time we spoke I was wetting my pants over my upcoming show wasn't I? Jesus H, I gotta get my emotional shit together huh? Been working on that one for a good 10 years now.
My one woman show at the Butterfly Club could not have gone better. Turns out all that worry, sleepless nights, anxiety acne and excessive drinking was not required! The last two nights were a sell out and I've been invited to perform at the Melbourne cabaret festival. I'm taking the show to Perth in October and I will also be doing a return run in Melbourne later this year. Against all the odds people liked it.
A few days after the show finished I received a phone call from one of my producers at the 7pm Project. The conversation went a little like this:
"Ring ring" (That's my mobile phone ringing. I felt that was important to assist you all with the "theater of the mind" stuff)
Producer Kelly: "Hi Em. We were hoping you would be interested in shooting another behind the scenes story on Master Chef next week."
Em: "Yes! I mean let me check if I'm free..(Fake checking of diary) Oh yes! Yes I am."
Producer Kelly: "Great. There's just one other thing.. We would need to send you to New York on Thursday."
Em: "Whaaaa? Shut up! SHUT. UP. (Panting, screaming etc)
So here I am.
In New York.
The one place I've always wished to come to and all I want to do is go home.
Booooooooooooooooo(breath)ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo to me. What a pathetic, un-grateful person I am.
I have been here a week. In that time I have achieved the following: (I'm not going to bore you all with the stories behind that list. I'll just use one word to describe each.)
1. Spent 24 hours vomiting. (Acidy)
2. Wallet Stolen. (Gutting)
3. Spent 2.5 hours with the NYPD (Frustrating)
4. Shot with the Masterchef kids. (Rad)
5. Visited the Met and the Alexander McQueen Exhibition. (Overwhelming)
6. Ground Zero. (Confronting)
7. Central Park. (Green)
8. Brooklyn. (Skatiehipster)
9. Greenwich Village. (Gated community)
10. Tribeca. (Rebuilding)
11. Walked the High Line. (Touristy)
12. Saw "Sleep no more"a cutting edge, multi-leveled total emersion play. (Witch-orgy)
Yes, if completing travel tasks were an Olympic sport I would be Flo Jo; you know, minus the excessive steroid abuse and heart attack stuff.
Don't get me wrong, New York has been great. I think I'd just built it up so very high in my mind and what with all the vommitting and the Grand Larceny-ing it all got a bit much.
Here are some happy snaps!
|It's a FROZEN YOGHURT VAN!!|
|B.Dylan street art.|
|A friend of mine.|
|Preparing for McQueen.|
|Hipstermatic School bus.|
|I purchased everything related to the exhibition.|
|I was forced to buy some "sensible" shoes as the heels were shredding my feet.|
|The front cover of the McQueen exhibition book.|
|The masks we had to wear while watching "Speak no more".|
|Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.|
|Walking the High Line.|