what to do, what to do

I'm out in the world without my family, which is strange enough, but now that I am presented with three solid hours of zero responsibility, I'm completely befuddled and unable to pick an activity and stick with it. So far, I've already opened one of my books, skimmed a few lines and closed it again three times. I started to listen to the latest Lynch album on the laptop, only to stop a a minute later because I have difficulty listening to his stuff without singing along, and even in the slightest whisper, I'm pretty sure his lyrics would get me kicked off the train, and I don't want to have to hang out in the north-of-Baltimore area today. Then I pulled up good old BNL to jam my way to NYC, but with only one ear, because L chided me for missing the quality conversations floating in the air around us. She informed me that I missed a bit between two ladies talking about someone wearing a push-up bra who also was sporting a pudgy face. Great, now the paranoia has kicked in, and I believe I'll have to button up my sweater.

It's absolutely necessary at this point, that L has already declared her desire to off herself because of the gentleman and his succession of VERY important phone calls behind us. Phone calls that start with “Hey baby,” and include such gems as, “How's the weather there? Yeah, I saw 100% chance of heavy showers, so I invested in an umbrella.” Obviously these are pertinent conversations that need to be held immediately and at a volume loud enough for all to participate in.

So, I could opt to people watch/listen, which I guess I should just really call it by its appropriate label of eavesdropping, or I could read, but neither of those have proven fully satisfying as of yet. There's also the snack car which we passed through on our search for two elusive seats together. People are coming and going to that baby pretty consistently, and I even saw a guy who is living it up with a Heineken at 9:30 in the am- apparently there must be a par-tay car further back. Eating is always satisfying, so that's a sure bet, but that would also require me getting up, and I am riddled with the fear that if I walk through a moving train, I will inevitably find myself, at some point, thrown to the floor as a result of the combination of a bumpy ride and my inborn clumsiness. Don't even get me started about my anxiety around the usage of the bathroom on a moving vehicle. Note to self- go easy on the water bottle.

I also tried browsing a magazine over a fellow passenger's shoulder, but her shoulder was two seats up and over from me, so all I got was a blurry look at Nicole Richie's babies. (Apparently, L said she named her new baby Sparrow... um, is she a pirate fan or a bird watcher?) The scenery out the window isn't all that hot right now, and to tell the truth, I don't predict it getting much better as we're heading through an area not so much known for its picturesqueness.

Okay, if reading, eavesdropping, eating, or peeing are all out, what's left to do?

Of course. Blog-drafting, which would have been actual blogging if I hadn't been too cheap to purchase the wi-fi for the train ride. This has been effective in killing twenty minutes, so at least that's something. Soon enough my desire for food will simply have to trump my worry for public humiliation. Wish me luck.

**post script- Eight hours in and we've been in a cab, the subway, a really freaking cool PB&J restaurant, and walked a gazillion city blocks by Central Park. Good, good times. Now we're just hanging out with four hours until the show- so we're excited and ready!**

Faking like being a city girl,