The Story Behind The 'Gram
My mom likes to tell me that every time she goes out with me is an adventure. It doesn't matter if it's to London or to the grocery store - I attract crazy experiences. It's just a fact.
Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. This is one of those stories.
This photo was completely accidental and one of my favorites that I took that morning
The Bus
I want to preface this by saying that I very obviously didn't die, so everything was totally fine. Clearly.
Getting on a 1am bus from South Station was a very good idea. Not sleeping before getting on said bus even though I don't sleep on buses was also a very good idea. Getting in to the Port Authority at 5am was not a very good idea.
But then again, the Port Authority in and of itself is never a very good idea.
You see, I wanted to go to the Brooklyn Bridge before the crowds and get "The Shot." You know the one - the sun is rising over the Bridge, there's not a person or a car in sight, the city hasn't woken up yet. Of course you know what I'm talking about.
It's at the top of this post.
The Bathroom
The sun wasn't going to rise until around 6:30 and we got in to New York just after 5am. What do we do kill ninety minutes? We go to Grand Central Station. We're two of maybe twenty people in the whole building. It's heaven.
Then it got weird.
As in, I'm-pretty-sure-we-witnessed-a-satanic-ritual-in-the-bathroom-while-we-were-putting-on-lipstick weird.
This is still one of the highlights of the trip for me, but it was absolutely terrifying at the time. My friend and I are doing our makeup and trying to not fall asleep in the bathroom sink when this woman walks in, goes immediately to one of the corner stalls, and starts whisper-rasping-yelling in a language that neither of us understand. Think Harry Potter speaking Parseltongue. Now picture it at five in the morning. We just look at each other and shrug. It's New York.
Then we hear banging.
Then the whisper-rasping-yelling gets louder.
Then I don't know what happened because we promptly booked it out of the bathroom.
Trying to forget everything about the last twenty minutes
The Bridge
The sun is just rising, and the light is perfect. We get to the bridge, we shed our bags, we take it all in.
Then we stop.
Houston, we have a problem.
It's freezing.
I honestly wish I could say I was just being a drama queen, but it was around 40 degrees Fahrenheit at the time (for everyone else, that's around 4 or 5 degrees Celsius). And we're in tank tops. You see, we were smart. We planned our outfits in advance and only brought what we needed.
We did not, however, bring winter jackets.
After practically dumping our bags on the ground, we pull out every warm article of clothing we can find and jump up and down to get the feeling back in our bodies.
Then, we suffer for our art. Well, my art. I kind of dragged Thedita along for the ride.
She got some cool pictures out of it though.
