I know, I know...

I've been slacking.  I haven't posted in a week (gasp!).  But in my defense, I've been super...lazy.  Not busy.  Just lazy.

But I'm making up for it now, with a great little story about my trip to the Met last Monday.

So, as I said before, the next assignment for my painting class is to do a reproduction.  I chose Van Gogh's "Wheat Field with Crows."  And there's a paper that goes along with the assignment.  We have to go to either the Museum of Modern Art or the Metropolitan Museum of Art so we can see in person the artist's style, brushstrokes, texture, etc. first hand.  Painting is my only class on Monday, and since we had the day off practice and I had nothing else to do, I thought to myself,

 "Hey, why not just go in today?"

So I go home, grab a coat, and race on over to the train station.  I'm pulling into my parking spot as the train is pulling into the station, so now I have to wait 30 minutes for the next one.  Oh, well.  No big deal.  I've got all day, I'll just catch the next one.

Once I get into the city, I know exactly what to do.  Before I left my house, I used HopStop.com to get directions via subway to the Met.  All I have to do is take the C train right from Penn Station to 86th Street, then walk a block to 85th and 5th, where the Met is.

But no.  Of course it couldn't be that simple.  I get to 85th Street, and not seeing any giant buildings with lots of stairs, I ask a hot dog stand guy where the Met is.

"Ohh, that's on the east side.  This is 85th West."

Oh geez.  Are you freaking kidding me?

Then he tells me, "Just walk straight through Central Park.  It's right on the other side."

I know something is wrong when the path splits into two, and neither of them go straight.

To make a long story short (too late), I end up walking more than 50 blocks from the Upper West side to the Upper East side.  Had I known it was that long, I may have taken a taxi or something.  I was wearing a pair of my favorite shoes, but they're not meant to be walking 50 blocks in New York City, so I started getting blisters on my heels.  By the time I saw those big white stairs, I was so relieved.  I'll just go in, sit down for a bit, look at the paintings, and have a nice relaxing afternoon.

The Met is closed on Mondays.

I think I stood and stared at the doors for a solid minute.  That doesn't sound long, but think about seeing someone just staring at a door, unmoving, for a whole minute.  By the time I peeled my eyes away from the sign, I knew I was in trouble.  I was not about the walk all the way back to the subway I took, and I had no idea where the closest station was.  I sat down on the steps to try to collect my thoughts and figure out what to do, and then it started drizzling.  The coat I grabbed to wear to the Met was my good suede leather coat.  I took my umbrella out, figuring it would be ok.  But no!  There's a hole in the lining, so only one half covers me!

I start just aimlessly walking down Madison Avenue, trying frantically to protect my coat, before I realize, "Oh, shit.  I'm on the Upper East side.  Everyone here is rich, there are no subways!"  I end up giving in a hailing a cab the 60 blocks back to Penn Station.

Once I'm on the train, I spread out thinking I'll have the seat to myself.  Nope.  It's super crowded so a really annoying a SMELLY guy sits next to me.  As I'm moving my things around, my coffee spills on my jeans!  Greeeeeat.  And then, just to add the cherry on top of my already brilliant day, the ticket guy informs me that it's peak time and I have an off-peak ticket, so I owe three more dollars to ride the train.


SERIOUSLY??