When the clock strikes midnight tonight, I’ll be on my way to New York City. Specifically, I’ll be in a roomette in a sleeper car on Amtrak train number 48, the Lake Shore Limited. I’ll probably be frantically shoving grapes into my mouth while my friend Jacinda does the same.
The grapes are for luck, and Jacinda is for company. I don’t know how I did it, but I convinced one of my oldest and dearest friends to take the train with me, promising shenanigans and good times (and hopefully no delays) in what is estimated to be a twenty hour journey. Twenty hours! I know there are these fancy flying machines that can get us there in 1/10th of the time this will take, but with 1/10th of the fun.
I believe the experience will be a combination of Some Like It Hot (hot music and lots of gin), Strangers On A Train (dark humor especially when we start going a bit stir-crazy), and Trading Places (gorilla suits!). I don’t think I’ve spent this much time with Jacinda since we lived together and our idea of fun was spending a lazy summer afternoon drinking Old Style on our back porch, splashing our feet in a Barbie kiddie pool full of tepid water.
It will be far too cramped tonight to bust out the old kiddie pool, but I’m pretty sure a suitcase of beer totally counts as carry-on baggage. And if the temperatures are less than balmy, we’ll just crank up the heat in our roomette before swaddling ourselves in blankets, dreaming of the hot breakfast waiting for us in the diner car in the morning. I am grateful that Jacinda is taking this time away from her husband and kids for a little adventure, and I am grateful to them for sparing her for a few days.
I know that as a single woman some part of me should wish that at midnight I’d be making out with some handsome man in a fancy ballgown (meaning I’d be wearing the fancy ballgown but I guess he could be wearing one too because I’m open-minded like that). Because everybody says how you see in the new year will define how that year shall be lived. But if I spend 2015 in transit, moving forward, with a good friend, the best friend, eating grapes in my pajamas and drunk on cheap champagne, that’s more than alright. That’s the best I could hope for, for myself and for you (‘you’ being you who are reading this), and for everybody else.
But mostly for me.
Happy New Year!