I think we took a staycation yesterday. That is a vacation where you really don't leave your hometown, at least not go far. Norman and I went to visit our friends Shmooey and Paula in NYC. They live near Chinatown, within walking distance of the Brooklyn Bridge and the ferry terminals. Norman made a list of the ways we can get into downtown Manhattan. This is such a production for people living in New Jersey, figuring out the least painful way to cross the river. Especially frustrating when you lived the first half of your life as a New Yorker and you well know the ease of getting around. One excursion on our list was to park at the Staten Island Ferry terminal and take the boat across the East River. That sounded like fun. On a pretty day, it almost sounded like a vacation!
With all vacations, getting there is part of the fun or the agony. Depends on traffic. We were lucky, yesterday. With all vacations, finding parking can be fun if you are Norman and you were born knowing how to parallel park, or it can be agony if there are no spots. We circled around the Ferry terminal lot wondering where people leave their car. We followed the Staten Island signage for parking through the streets and found another $8 lot. Parking there was also tight, even for my husband, my expert parker. But we did leave our car and boarded our free cruise line to New York City. It was a crowded boat, but a lovely and breezy way to travel.
I follow many new people on Instagram. It started out as a place for me to follow fellow vegans. A place to follow fellow quilters. A place to follow fellow painters. I always said that Instagram was perfect for me because while Facebook is all about the faces of your friends, Instagram is geared towards things that might inspire you. I have lots of pictures of colorful and delicious dinners filling my feed, not the people filling up on food. Lately, as I am reinventing myself, I started to follow fashion. That makes no sense for anyone who knows me. What do I care about fashion? Give me a pair of sweatpants with a sweatshirt to keep me warm and I am a happy fashion plate of a girl. I now scroll through Instagram admiring older women showing off their silver hair and outrageous styles. As I get older, I want style.
Yesterday, on our cruise, we got a bird's eye view of what it takes to be an Instagram model. These gorgeous women with strong Jamaican accents (I think) were all dressed to kill and they modeled against the railing of our boat for the entire ride. I leaned over to Norman and whispered that it must have taken them four hours to get ready just to spend the rest of their day taking selfies. These women had perfect bodies squeezed into bright yellow dresses, tops, and pants. There was no evidence of underwear lines, just the right amount of flesh (that I would protect under my underwear) peeking through. Very sexy ladies. Their smiles were well-practiced pouts and they posed from all different angles. In front of our faces, we watched big lips, big chests, and very big tushies being captured on their phones. Every so often a cute Asian couple with a real camera would take turns at the rail, posing with the Statue of Liberty in the distance. We were well amused on our cruise line. That was some staycation. Who needs Carnival Cruise when you have the Staten Island Ferry?
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