Wednesday, 11 August 2010
- Photo taken by me the other night. A hotel foyer in NY. I stood there clicking and told Dave it reminded me of me and my two boys and I shifted around to get the band of vertical metal separating us, symbolising being parted from them. Dave stared at me.
Tomorrow I will write my BlogHer recap. It's still settling down, in my head. Tonight Dave and I went to see Fela. Over on 49th Street. I understand the streets here now - but I will never get used to the cop uniforms. They just look so fake and I want to laugh out loud, but I don't.
We finally went over to SoHo, and Greenwich Village .... I bought three dresses at a vintage shop for a hundred bucks. I want to do a fashion shoot and blog them to you. The shopping is a feast - ideal for us actually, as America is soon headed into fall and Australia will be almost spring by the time we get back. So we are getting all the summer sales.
Tomorrow morning Dave is having his helicopter ride, then we will go sightseeing. He has a strong desire to go to Brooklyn. I have a strong desire to go to a gallery or museum. Probably the MoMa. Maybe the Guggenheim. Or BOTH. We can do whatever we want. Whenever.
Man I miss my guys. I rang Max yesterday with a huge lump in my throat - until I spoke with him and heard how totally fine and unfazed he is. Crunching on something down the phone. "What are you eating sweetheart?"
A crunchy pause, then,
"Burger rings. For breakfast."
Laughing, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
We haven't spoken or skyped with Rocco, didn't want to confuse him. He is going really well, apparently. There is a changing of the guard today, Dave's mother is handing over the baton to my mother. I just spoke to her and it was a relief, to hear her voice and know that the kids are ok. I'm so grateful for that.
I just found this on my computer, tugging at my heart.
Man that booger he pulled out was a big one. I remember watching him wipe it on the floor. I don't remember cleaning it up.
(I look so tired and haggard in this video.)
I miss his disgusting little boogers, and poopie nappy explosions. I might even be nearly close to missing wrangling a small child in public.