Happy birthday mom!

Well, it isn't today. It was yesterday. But I wanted to start a post with happy birthday wishes to my mother.

Yesterday was... emotionally charged. To cut to the quick, I visited the New Yorker again. This time to pick up my portfolio. I trek back down to Times Square and weave my way through the tourists and busy New York pedestrians, heading straight to the Conde Nast building. Since the guy I talked to in the mail room gave me the impression that I should go back there to pick it up, that's what I did. I poke my head in into the small room and I'm happy to see the guy I spoke with on Wednesday. And, lucky me, he recognizes me and remembers what I'm there for. I start to feel hopeful. The feeling quickly fades as he can't find my portfolio anywhere. He calls upstairs for the person I dropped it off for (he half-remembered her name too, I was impressed by this guy) but got her voicemail. Drats. He leaves a message and I tell him I'll come back a little later to check on things. I decide I'll also give the art director a call - not because I didn't trust the guy in the mail room, but because I'm a control freak.

So... now what? I'm in a bad mood and I'm anxious. I can't get the idea that these people loose portfolios out of my head. So sight-seeing isn't high on my list of priorities. But, I'm in Times Square, so I feel a powerful need to walk around to just check things out. I walk through a massive Toys "R" Us and I think my breath was actually taken away. Aside from ferris wheel that greets you inside the door, there are at least four stories to this place. I say at least because I didn't want to explore too much, for fear of spending money. But there were people doing demonstrations of toys and a group of girls doing dance routines. It was crazy! OH! and there was a animatronic tyrannasaurus rex... it was probably about half of "actual size" but it was intense. Now, I'm a reasonable grown man, but I was slightly more than mildly terrified of it. It was scary!

I leave with no purchases in hand (the Star Wars and Lego sections were intensely difficult to pass up. They had the Mace Windu might mugg too!) So I wander back out onto the street and walk further up the street. I see the Naked Cowboy and resist the urge to take pictures of this iconic New York figure. Eventually I find a place to sit and I just watch the world go by. It got annoying walking behind tourists anyway. After about an hour total I make my way back to the mail room. "My guy" is there and he calls upstairs again. This time he gets a hold of the woman and she gives him her extension and tells him to send me up. I almost pass out. I walk up to the desk and get cleared through security (the art director corrected the guard on the pronunciation of my name, which pleased me greatly) and push the button for the elevator.

I can't begin to describe how I felt at this point. It took a short eternity for the elevator to come, and the trip to the 20th floor took a slightly longer eternity. My stomach bottomed out and my pulse quickened. I took off my hat and started to try to preen myself in the reflection of the elevator doors. Oh yeah, I was a mess. I step out of the elevator and tell the man at the desk who I'm there to see. Unfortunately this is where I stop feeling so good . He asked if I was there to pick up my portfolio and then points to it in a stack on his desk. Hey, at least I was at the top of the pile, right? Good news is I got my book back and it's in one piece AND all of the cards I put in it are gone. Bad news is the leave behind is still there. Oh well.

I had mixed feelings as I got back on the Subway, I was still in a bad mood, but I wasn't anxious anymore. (I was about to write that there wasn't a love note in my book from the people who looked at it, but then I realized I actually hadn't looked through the whole book. I just checked the first page to make sure it was mine and the last page to see what was still there. There WAS a love note, of sorts!) All I wanted to do was come back to the apartment and work on painting something in my sketchbook. That's what I did. First, I spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls, looking for more people to leave my book with. I had some moderately good responses to this and felt a little better about the world. A little after 5 pm I called it quits, figuring most people would be leaving for the day pretty soon, what with it being Friday and all. I settle in and paint for a little while until Brian got home.

We whittle away the evening and watch the first episode of the new Star Wars Clone Wars cartoon on Cartoon Network. Eventually we hop up and head out into the night. Rusty was having a show at a small shop out in Brooklyn, so we were heading over there to hang out. We get there kind of late in the game, but are able to enjoy the work - and the store. It was like the most awesome kitsch store in the world. Only, it was the most awesome kitsch store in the world. When things wind down we start to head back. Ugh. It was a two hour ride back to Harlem from Brooklyn on the trains running after midnight. We get back and both promptly pass out.

We both slept until past noon. And, we have no plans for the day. I think we're going to be taking it easy today.

The picture is from a Halloween store that Brian and I visited on Wednesday. I think it's the best table ever. She's so squishy and pinch-able. How could I resist taking a picture?