a few random, inconsequential thoughts

Here are some things that fill my head lately — some fleetingly, others not.

Is it worth $10 for a cinnamon bun? Even one that is supposed to be the best of the best? One that is sold from a store whose sole products are multiple variations of this one item?

Hmmm. It is excellent. But probably not much better than the ones sold at West Falmouth Market for half the price. Then again, West Falmouth Market is almost 300 miles from me.

There should be a hair-height limit for people who attend theater. If you're tall, hey, then you're tall. But if you choose to wear a hairstyle that blocks the view of those behind you, well that just shouldn't be allowed. My view yesterday is totally blocked. Fortunately I can change my seat.

I'm reading and loving The Correspondent. It just bothers me that the main character, who is my age, sounds like none of my friends, and projects herself as being ancient. I know that objectively I can be described as an old lady.  I don't identify that way and find the descriptor loathsome, even if true. And though I hate to admit it, aging is something a think about every single day.

I am amazed at how well this product works on removing dry blood on fabrics. (As I said, these thoughts are random).

I've seen about 50 movies since October to prepare for BAFTA voting. My two favorites are: One Battle After Another and Marty Supreme.

I feel immensely lucky to have smart, fun, female friends. They enrich my life in ways too numerous to count. They astound me with their generosity, insights, and willingness to listen, to play, to advise, to recommend, and to make me laugh.

I do sometimes wish I had one or two male playmates that were local. The few male friends I have (and cherish) all live many states away.

I walk around the city and know that I absolutely love it here. I never take for granted that I get to call New York City my home.

While I don't see my son nearly as much as I'd like, knowing he lives here is comforting. He's experiencing the city in ways he never has before, and discovering, really for the first time, its greatness. 

Today we get together for lunch, totally unplanned. I am later meeting a friend to see a show in Times Square. Alexander picks a small, casual place on 51st and Fifth, across from St. Patrick's. After lunch, we exit onto Fifth Avenue. Walking is near impossible as the streets and sidewalks are jammed with pedestrians.

I say, "Let's head west to get out of this mess." He responds, "Well, this mess is so much better than that mess (referring of course to the crowd-quality on Fifth Avenue vs the one a few blocks over on Eighth). 

He makes me laugh even when he's barely trying.