too much, too full

Today I experienced something that I love about NY: I went to the post office at 7 pm and mailed two letters. It was my first time at the 33rd St. post office for simple, straightforward postal errand-running (as opposed to frantic deadline-meeting). The Automated Postal Centers (those nifty machines) have rather stupid restrictions in NYC (you can't have a transaction worth under $1 and you cannot pay for your transactions cumulatively) so I had to wait in the relatively short line to purchase my postage.

IS THIS THE MOST THRILLING BLOG ENTRY EVER?!

Anyway, I've sent my hs/r to a certain director thanks to a friend's referraln and I've applied for health insurance (nearly 3 times the price for a group policy in NY as it was for an individual policy in SF). Thank goodness for my AGMA membership. The Freelancer's Union offers a group policy with a lesser known provider and the benefits are dramatically poorer, so I think I've selected well. I'm just horrified by how expensive health insurance is here.

Then I walked from the post office across town to 1st Avenue. I thought I'd stop at Hangawi (one of my favorite restaurants, a fantastic Korean vegetarian place), but they told me they were too full to seat me alone and TOO FULL TO ALLOW ME TO ORDER TAKEOUT (whoever heard of such nonsense?!). Well, in the spirit of my very meditative day, I practiced non-attachment and moved on, meandering past the Empire State Building and contemplating the 25-40 minute wait to get to the observatory. The guard told me to come back later in the evening and they'd be virtually empty. I'm sleepy now, but it's tempting to wait until the last elevator and head up there. Maybe tomorrow or some time during the week. I can't remember the last time I was at the top of the Empire State Building. They're slapping on an extra $14 (on top of the normal $16 admission) for visitors who wish to go to the upper deck.

I kept walking and entertained the possibility of seeing a movie on 32nd and 2nd, but I was in between screenings for everything that interested me. So I bought a copy of American Theater and made my way home for scallops, toast, and a persimmon.

Then I researched the Leonid Meteor Shower and was told by my mother that some newscaster or other had announced that it was too overcast in Manhattan (to say nothing of all the light) to see it. I only occasionally believe my mother and, well, I certainly shouldn't believe everything I hear on the news, so:

why am I here eating grapes instead of freezing my booty off over the east river watching shooting stars?