As a reminder that I was returning to Seattle today, the weather in New York City was chilly-ish and rainy. Of course. I cannot go anywhere without the cloud following me for some kind of duration. The good part is that I didn’t have to do any walking outside today in the rain. What I was allowed was a FORTY MINUTE trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Forty minutes to see one of the world’s most renowned museums (insert Benny Hill theme music here). Well, it was 40 more minutes than I ever had there, anyway.

So that I felt less agonized by what I missed, I limited myself to only viewing the Egyptian artifacts wing, the largest such collection in the Western Hemisphere, I hear. It was quite literally awesome in the antiquated use of the word – awe-inspiring, thought-provoking, wondrous. The items were so pristine, so varied, so many, that I had to remind myself these were not replicas; these were real pieces. It is hard to take in, Ancient History n’ stuff. Everything about the exhibit was so impressive not only in the artifacts themselves, but the layout and display. I so love production, what goes into creating something. When I think about all of that, it deepens any experience for me, to deconstruct the pieces and imagine all that had to be made from scratch, something from nothing. From the lighting, to the colors on the walls, to the display cases, the arrangement of things…ooh, it just thrills my little heart. Beautifully done, and worthy of the precious items.

I allotted seven minutes at the end to the gift shop, as I wanted to bring back something special for MissSix, and thought that the Newark airport would not be quite as good an opportunity for that task. With the tour director barking at me in her southern accent that WE REALLY NEED TO GET GOING NOW, I found my daughter a cute little Degas ballerina doll, and a pale pink t-shirt with a silver sparkly dancer on it. I also at the last second snared a hot pink t-shirt for ME that said POW! in lovely 60s Batman-style pop art letters. I hustled down the street in the rain to the bus, NOT LATE, GODDAMMIT, and we set off for the airport.

This was the first time that I went through the science-fiction-type AIR POOF machine at security. After you place your items on the security belt, you go inside this booth, and it shoots out little blasts of air and light at you, and smells like burning hair. Its function is to steal your very soul and to also check to see if you have any explosive residue on your person. Mr11 and I passed. I have been soulless for awhile now anyway so no great loss, but I was able to buy another for Mr11 at the Hudson newsstand, along with a couple of bottles of water and some trail mix.

Up in the air, off to Chicago, Starbucks run, bathroom stop, up in the air now to Seattle. Because United Airlines are REAL COMEDIANS, this time they didn’t show me a movie that made me cry, they showed me one of the two I already saw last year and already wrote about here, Frost/Nixon. I watched it again because I had enjoyed it before and was tired of my crap magazines and iPod. It did not have the same impact as on the big screen, of course, but it remained a good story. Frank Langella is the man.

I also watched a very poorly-written sitcom episode with some redheaded girl and remembered again why I do not bother to watch TV. Even the favorable mention of the Violent Femmes in the show did not redeem it. Oy.

I wish I had a week just to think and do nothing to process this whole trip. I wish I had a week straight to sleep. I hope that the Easter Bunny comes, because I sure as shit ain’t going out to Walgreens tonight. I am hopping across the entire United States, and that is enough for one day.