Manhattan is dirty dirty dirty. No bulletin there, but WOW--dirty dirty dirty. Some of the subways are extra disgusting, and many parts of them are rusting/disintegrating away. The smells are many and constant--some wonderful, like flower stands and fantastic food, and some awful, like the smell of urine and filthy standing water . It is sensory overload for me, so I can't imagine what it must be like for my dogs. There is so much pollution--whenever we go out, especially when we take the subway, within an hour I feel like I need to shower again. I am super clean since we got to Manhattan--I bathe twice a day to not feel slimed. The city wouldn't be so dirty if people picked up after themselves. Many people don't bother with trash cans--just throw whatever you are done with on the ground. That's a shame--people who are fortunate enough to live in or visit this remarkable and unique place should show it the respect it deserves.

Manhattanites are a little precious. Few people exercise basic etiquette on the street. Manners and kindness are not a priority. I wouldn't say most people are truly mean--just very self-serving and self-absorbed. It's a type of courtesy to pretend no one else exists when you are packed together, a way of maintaining your privacy and that of others, but it is taken too far--it's as if these people have taught themselves not to see anyone else, so they bulldoze their way along. They also don't stop to smell the roses, so to speak--a cute puppy, pretty flowers, a smiling baby--few pause to enjoy their surroundings--it's just rush rush rush to the next thing. There are so many amazing sights and stores, remarkable people and things to do. Storefronts change overnight. But Manhattanites seem to pride themselves on not reacting to anything, or being visibly impressed by anything. They don't smile much either. I wouldn't say people here are unhappy, but you really can't tell--faces are like closed doors, expressionless, and eye contact is avoided.


So, attention New Yorkers--love your city. Reward it for the one-of-a-kind sights, smells and sounds it gives you every day. Put your trash in a can, clean up your pet poo, stop abandoning belongings on street corners. And please, please, please stop spitting in public. The subway tracks are not a spatoon. People who live in conditions like ours should take public health as seriously as religion.

We are in NY. We made it. It was a crazy trip--Patrick and I have some really strange road trip karma or something.

We started out fine Wednesday morning, then hit a torrential rain storm by Columbia, MO, that was the northern tip of a storm system so bad it produced tornadoes in North Carolina and Alabama. The wind shield wipers on high were going so fast and hard they kept hitting the weather stripping on the driver's side of the windshield really hard--something we didn't realize until it came loose and almost flew off the car. We couldn't get it back on--poor Patrick was standing in a downpour trying to snap the plastic back on--didn't work, so we threw it in the back and prayed for the windshield not to leak.

The tarp covering our luggage was shredded by the storm's winds by the time we reached St. Louis, so we replaced it with a larger, stronger one that kept coming loose and flapping for several feet above our car like we were flying our own flag. That must have been fun for everyone driving around us. We stopped in a town outside St. Louis for more bungee cords--no bungee cords in that entire town, and we ended up buying twine. That didn't help--we stopped every half hour, trying to tie the tarp back down in the downpour--Patrick was soaked through, and I was wet, and coupled with Barney and Betty being in the car with us and needing to get out to do business every couple of hours, we were a wet, smelly mess by afternoon.

When we got to Indianapolis, we had dinner at Patrick's brother's house, then hit a Best Western--we didn't want to stay with my brother-in-law because we were such a mess, and the dogs were pretty freaked. This Best Western was suburban, but apparently at night it becomes a hooker crack house--the guests were scary, especially the ones hanging out in the parking lot watching us unpack. We dragged everything on top of the car into the hotel room and discovered that the tarp had not kept out all the rain--about 20% of our clothes, all of it our nicer things of course, were wet. So we laid things out to dry and crawled into bed. Patrick wakes up in the middle of the night to the sensation of water, and thinks one of the dogs wet the bed, but no, it's not a dog, it's the roof--we are on the top floor of the motel, and the roof is leaking. The roof is leaking BAD--a drywall seam is splitting, and the drywall is bulging down--we thought it might drop on us.

So we decide to get the hell out of our motel first thing in the AM, no shower, no nothing--we repack our stuff, with extra new bungee cords this time, and set off--we marathon drive it all the way to Harrisburg, PA, only stopping for gas and to let the dogs do business. At a gas station in Ohio, this elderly lady with one long, scary tooth on the top right side of her mouth--I am not making this up--approaches our car to pet our dogs, and starts speaking in a heavy accent we were not able to place. "Pretty pretty dogs--what names?" We tell her their names. "Pretty pretty dogs--you roll window up now--they get out and run away or maybe DIE!" I am in the driver's seat. Patrick leans over and says "Roll the window up and drive--NOW!" So we get out of Ohio, which is very pretty and clean, by the way, and nobody just hangs out in the left lane on the interstate--love that.

The weather clears and we make good time and we start to relax. Patrick offers to set up a movie for me on his laptop--we are at another gas station. He puts the adapter in the cigarrette lighter and instantly it starts smoking--huge cloud of smoke--almost like dry ice at a Halloween party--fills the entire car. So, we air out the car and throw away the adapter. We drive on the interstate with the back windows open a few inches for the dogs to get fresh air, since the car still smells like exploded battery. Betty actually manages to get her whole head out the window and gets scared and pulls back and gets stuck and starts choking. She gets loose before we can even get to her, and we are freaked out because of what could have happened and because of the tooth lady's words--weird.

The best thing that happened on the road was in Ohio--two huge double rainbows happened post storm that were absolutely beautiful--we have never seen two rainbows side by side, or that big or colorful and bright. They were amazing--just gigantic, and so brilliant. We decided to take it as a good sign, because we were feeling in need of one by then.

We get lost a couple times, drive away from a gas station with our gas cap hanging down the side of the car, stuff like that, but finally make it to the Holland Tunnel. We pass throught the tunnel into Manhattan and promptly get lost--it takes us about 20 minutes to find our hotel. All the cliches about Manhattan traffic are true--it is the most insane thing I have ever experienced on the road. People drive like they have a death wish and pedestrians hurl themselves into the street like they want to die young. We were almost hit twice just getting to our hotel. If we end up living in the city, we are getting rid of our car--there is no reason to drive in Manhattan--your feet and/or the subway get you everywhere faster. The only reason to drive on that island is if you have taken out a huge life insurance policy on yourself because you have decided you just want to end it all.

It was a silly trip, but we made it intact, and the city is amazing. We went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art Saturday, and I saw so many famous pieces of art that after a few hours I felt like my head would explode. Let the tourism begin.