So, New York. The trip was great. I got in a wild hurry to buy tickets that seemed like a good buy at Expedia, so I completed the transaction without considering the stupidity of flying straight south (to San Francisco) before moving even a mile east, as well as the time problems connected with arriving at JFK at 8 p.m. and then trying to drop stuff off at my hotel before hitting the blogger party. Also, you haven’t had fun until you’ve been in your layover airport and gotten the news that people were arrested for plotting to blow up the airport you’re headed for. Ineptly, as it turns out, thank God. Anyway I didn’t have to worry about the 8 p.m. arrival, because thanks to ATC at SFO, which seems to shut down under fog, which of course never occurs in San Francisco, I missed my connection and landed at JFK at 10:30 instead. Fortunately the bloggers are a night-owl bunch, for the most part.

In New York, I stayed at the Hotel Belleclaire, where they say Mark Twain once stayed and Max Gorky was once thrown out for staying with a woman other than his wife (“This is a family hotel!”). I can recommend it, unless it’s raining. It’s an old building with window A/C units, which isn’t a problem in itself, but when it rains it sounds like somebody’s letting off jumping jacks on top of them. My mom, bemused at my weakness: “The rain kept you awake?” Me: “Mother, I said it sounded like firecrackers.” Otherwise the hotel was clean, quiet, and a nice walk from Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum:

The Manhattan Diner, just across Broadway from the Belleclaire, where I ate all my breakfasts:

I love to eat alone because that’s when I read. My book, Vol. I of the three-volume bio of Churchill that, appallingly, William Manchester left incomplete at his death, accompanied me to the diner, then went back to the room during the days while I wandered the town. Being in a strange city by myself brings out the people watcher in me, although only marginally–gotta read, after all. But the second day it was pouring the firecracker rain, so the Manchester got a protective covering of plastic shopping bag for the jog across Broadway. I was amused to imagine what other potential people watchers in the diner were thinking of me: Then she pulled a simply enormous book out of a plastic grocery bag!

Manchester and I passed the breakfast hours agreeably, then it was off to sight-see. More tomorrow.

Regular blogging, including what should now be called the Biweekly Tolkien, resumes tomorrow.

This movie will make you cackle.

I know, it’s Cliche–but I’ve been a Billy Joel fan for … 18 years or so, so I’m entitled.

I’m home after a three-night stay in the Big Apple. It was great. I’ll have a couple pictures up soon. Thanks to Karol for setting up a blogger party. Many cool bloggers were present, several of whom were shocked to discover that I am, in fact, a girl. “We thought you were a guy!” was my number-one received comment of the night when I told my blog name. I’m going to assume that means I’m hard-headed and logical in other blogs’ comments and not really think much farther than that.

And special thanks to PetiteDov and her shy, retiring boyfriend for great company, conversation, and hospitality my first day in the city.