This has been a ridiculous week, that really left me no time to think, much less write. Adulthood can be like that, where you get busy and can't get out of it. The performance artist, Karen Finley, referred her busy self as "I am not a human being; I am a human doing." That was my week.
Just to summarize, Saturday night I went to the Eagles game. This ended unfortunately, and it was a comedy of errors getting there, including misunderstandings about where to meet up, bad traffic, and a minor incident at security, when my daughter, who was paranoid because she had a flask of Fireball hidden in her Ugg, was flagged for having too big a purse. She went inside to warm up, while I ran back to the car, dropped off the purse, downed the Fireball that had not fit in the flask, and ran back. Missed very little of the game. I'm not sure I'm interested in having season tickets anymore. I just don't really like going there and watching with those people, even though the people in the section around us are fine. It would also help if the Eagles saw fit to turn the heat on at the club level. Though the club does a good job of keeping rain off your head, the temperature inside during this game couldn't have been more than 55 degrees. It was 20 outside, and nobody was taking off even a single layer when they got in. Jerks.
Sunday was time to take my daughter to JFK airport for her trip to Israel. That's a short sentence with a lot of content. How to break it down?
Well, she's on what's called a Birthright trip, and all-expenses paid tour funded by an organization with a goal of connecting young people to Israel. She had been talking about doing this for a while, but was only recently in a place (physically and mentally) where is was possible. This was a group of students from her school, so it sounded ideal.
The thing is, traveling has never been an easy thing for my daughter. She loves to go out and do things, but she likes her nest too and wants it just so. At this point, she's perfectly capable of packing herself being ready roughly on time and all that, but nothing ever seems to be routine. Sunday, of course, was one of the freezing rain/black ice days, which concerned me. However, we got out of the house on time and, as it turned out, the conditions frightened enough people that it kept everyone else off the roads. I've never driven to JFK with so little traffic.
I'd kind of forgotten how chaotic the design of JFK is. There are 8 terminals (though one of them is closed apparently) and they are arrayed in no discernible order. I warned my daughter that I was likely to get lost once but that we were early enough that it didn't matter. But in fact I didn't get lost (it helped that the flight was in Terminal 1, which was almost miraculously the first terminal we reached). We pulled up, she got out and we wrestled her bag out of the back, and before she was even inside the door people inside were waving to her. I parked for a minute and said goodbye and off she went.
And off I went. I was hungry; it was mid-afternoon at this point and I'd not eaten since 7 AM. I decided to get off the Belt Parkway at Brighton Beach. There had to be some Russian food there if nothing else.
Yelp led me to a Turkish kebob house under the elevated train track. My Mom grew up around here and we used to come to visit my grandparents when I was very young and to go to the beach at various times thereafter. It's a marvelous juxtaposition, the urban, ethnic, under the train tracks vibe a block and a half from the beach. The Turkish food was good, though I chickened out on getting the coffee because I was in a hurry.
The ride back was a bit more trafficky, but I made it. One more adventure in the books. I wonder what'll happen next?
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