I'm trying to be cynical, but I can't, I just can't. Why should I care that there will be oak trees brought in to Westminster Abbey (in honour of the Middleton family's new crest), or that William's asked for a special McVitie's chocolate digestives cake, or that maid-of-honour Pippa's trying to hang disco balls in Buckingham Palace for the after-after party. (or should that be after-after reception?). How does the marriage of a couple of over-priveleged toffs -- one famous due to parentage (and their parents, and so on) only, the other for snagging the eye of prince with a see-through dress -- affect me in the slightest? And don't even get me started on the whole 'commoner' thing; she's not *exactly* from the wrong side of the tracks!
But no, I'm lapping it up... I've smiled along with the T-Mobile ad, read the many many many gossip and news articles, got the t-shirt (well, commemorative mug, at least) and will be front and centre (of the TV, that is) for as much as I can on the big day.
I did consider heading into central London to be part of the atmosphere, but decided against for many reasons:
It's supposed to rain -- I'm a fair-weather celebration-watcher, for sure
Crowds + 2-year-old = misery
There's no way I'd get in front of the people camping out already -- so would still only see the TV coverage (projected on giant screens in Trafalgar Square and elsewhere), but without any sound
I did, however, take advantage of the good weather and day off yesterday to take Paige into town to see how things were progressing... we didn't make it as far as the church, but did get a little taste of the media circus already assembled outside Buckingham Palace, where it seemed every other person we passed was wearing a press-pass or carrying major video equipment. I think we may have even been on Japanese television at one point, as we passed behind one reporting quintet... ah - our moment of fame...
Fox and CNN amongst the news crews taking up 22,000 square meters in Green Park
Did Paige and I make it on Japanese TV? We'll never know!
St James Park media complex - Left of BuckPalace
And... Green Park media complex on the right
Of course, to Paige, it was all about the playground (note news copter soundtrack in the video below) -- though in years to come, I will be sure to tell her she was (almost) there...
Seems a bit surreal that only three weeks ago I was still in New York – just shows how quickly holiday effects can wear off and you can settle back into your regular routine...
Before it becomes a hazy memory, however – I thought I’d record it here for the whole wide web world to see. Or at least the two to three readers I occasionally get, who probably don’t even visit any more considering I update this even less frequently than I mop the kitchen floor. (And for anyone who knows how much I hat mopping, you get the picture...)
So, anyhoos....
Thursday 31st March – and the New York weather forecast was for overcast, rainy and grey. Which of course made perfect sense, as I was about to leave uncharacteristically sunny London for four days in that very city. No matter – given my years in the north west, I know a little rain can’t hurt!
What can hurt --- or at least annoy -- is a two hour flight delay. Yawn. And a lengthy journey from JFK into Manhattan. (Why is it that whenever I take SuperShuttle, I’m *always* the last one off??) So instead of arriving with a full afternoon as expected, I finally arrived chez Kim about 5pm, already jetlagged, but determined to stay awake and quickly acclimate myself so I could make the most of my short stay. Fortunately lively conversation, a little walk around Kim’s neighbourhood, and yummy dinner at nearby Meme helped, and finally exhausted at 11pm I fell asleep on an amazingly comfortable inflatable mattress.
Friday Kim and I hit the ground running. Or at least she did, heading off to the gym, while I started my day in a slightly less healthy way, indulging in one of my favourite New York treats – a diner breakfast. Thanks to the Good Stuff Diner and their Lumberjack Special, my arteries are just that little bit cloggier, and my jeans just that little bit tighter. Mmm mmm good.
Following that, we proceeded to pack as much of the NYC experience into a single day as possible – starting with manicures (natch), a little shopping (thanks Kim for your fashion guidance, not sure I would’ve gone through with the orange skirt purchase without it), subway hopping (uptown, downtown and repeat), museum hopping (Museum of Arts and Design, with free entry thanks to my V&A volunteering status!), then off to the theatuh, as you do. I’d been quite eager to see Driving Miss Daisy, which was entering its last weeks – and fortunately we were able to get tickets (from the half-price booth, ticking another NYC must-see). James Earl Jones was fantastic, and well worth the effort required to keep my drooping eyes open. (and Vanessa Redgrave's understudy was pretty great as well, didn't mind only one of the icons being available... may have felt otherwise if it was JEJ off that night!) Note to self: comfy chair in darkened theatre is perhaps not the best place to combat jet lag, no matter how commanding the thesp on stage... Fortunately the show itself was only about 90 minutes, and I managed to stay awake throughout to enjoy the show, followed up by some classic dinner Tex-Mexicana, including pleasantly strong margarita, at Dos Caminos. (Where I discovered that instead of actually being in Jerusalem, my brother-in-law has been living a double life as a maitre d’ in Manhattan. Either that or he has an identical twin, separated at birth... must ask BiL’s mother about that...)
Saturday I enjoyed a luxurious morning actually reading the New York Times, in bed, cover-to-cover, sans Dora or Spongebob or ‘Mommy! Where my juicey?!’ soundtracks (as pleasant as those sounds are, of course). (And by cover-to-cover, I don’t mean literally reading every article – who has time for that? I did, at least, skim every section, and read the articles that caught my interest, which is more than I can say for most weekends...)
The day continued at a leisurely pace, as I headed over to Brooklyn to meet up with a former housemate from my DC days, who I hadn’t seen in I think 14 years (thanks, Facebook, for putting us back in touch; thanks, Dad for a unique enough last name that people who try can easily fine me on said site). I will confess to being a teeny bit (perhaps 12%) apprehensive before setting out – I mean, it could’ve been all emms and errs and awkward pauses – 14 years is a long time. Fortunately my 88% intuition came true, and the day flew by in brunchy catch-up conversation mode, and it was a shame that I had to eventually tear myself away from the sunny playground where we chatted while keeping an eye on her adorable almost-three-year-old. I already can’t wait for a return trip to introduce Paige...
Saturday night brought more fabulosity to my weekend – after dinner in, delivery of course (does that count as another New York classic? Or would we have had to have eaten directly out of Chinese takeout boxes to get full credit?) a few of the girls came round to Kim’s for drinks before heading out on the town. What made the evening even more special was that one of the ‘girls’ was my bestiest of besties: my li’l sis. Thanks to SuperSitters (aka, Nana & Poppy), she got a night off in the big city, and was able to join me and Kim in singing our lungs out at Marie’s Crisis, the oddly named, miniscule basement piano bar where the pianist plays classic show tunes and the crowd of regulars and randoms (we’d be in the latter group) joins in. Fiddler, Chicago, Sound of Music, West Side Story, Hair, Oklahoma... we were
there until almost 2am, my jet lag well and truly over. SO much fun to have a singalong with my much more musically able and aware sister...
Later that same Sunday morning, our driver (aka Poppy – he’s multi-talented) arrived to pick us up, bleary eyed, Starbucks-filled, and slightly hoarse, for the journey back to the White Plains and FAMILY DAY. All the Carl Jr Wulfestieg-lets in one place – a rare occurrence, so thank goodness Mom has photographic evidence. And we did what we do best... just kinda hang around, chat, and eat... ah, sibling hood! Only shame was that it was such a short visit – Brian and family were back off to Chicago that afternoon. And after a night sharing a room with my niece (thanks for the upper bunk, Toby), and brunch with Mom & Dad, it was airport time for me as well (via Manhattan to grab a blow-out, pedicure, and some last minute shopping on the way)
And now it’s back in London, with a weekend of happy memories – that would have only been made better by the inclusion of my lovely husband and (usually) sweet daughter. As great as it was to have some time on my own, I would’ve loved to have shared it with them (well... at least a portion of it – I’ll keep the mani-pedi and a little girlie shopping time for myself...)
