little tara

Monday May 14th – Another one of those days where I wonder to myself, “Did I waste it by doing nothing?” but eventually come to the conclusion that as long as I was doing what I wanted, it was not a day wasted. No point going at 100 miles per hour every day just because you feel that you’re expected to do so, right?

I woke up very, very late after an equally late night of reading, and it was raining, raining, raining. I pottered, I procrastinated, and I finally dressed. I walked out into Chelsea and decided to get some photos printed to send to friends overseas. It would seem that the rain brought out the ‘wierd’ in the people of Chelsea; some of the conversation snippets I heard in passing were thoroughly bizarre. One man that I walked past loudly questioned his companion, “So, are we doing fantasy tonight?” While I was still reeling from the mental imagery that created, I heard two women fighting about something… as they got closer, one snapped at the other, “I would DEFINITELY be in Hufflepuff!” Wow. Talk about an argument happening a few years too late!

I went to a nearby Duane Reade and went to their self-service kiosk, where I spent ages helping a professional-looking young man figure out how to get his pictures printed; for some reason, he just couldn’t get his head round the interface. At the end of the process he was highly frazzled but very grateful – happy to be of service, sir! Ha ha ha. I then put my own pictures in to be done, and decided that, while I was waiting, I would have a manicure. Now, please understand that I’m not the kind of girl who just goes for a manicure as a matter of course; for starters, in Australia they’re still quite expensive, and it’s never something I’ve had much time for. But I had made a vow to myself before leaving for the States that I would put more of an effort into my appearance, at least in token ways (I can really be quite a scruffbag on a daily basis, especially when travelling), and I figured that this would be at least a small way to start. So, being something of  manicure virgin (with the exception of a couple of times in Singapore where I was barked at and told exactly what to do and where to sit from the get-go… which is exactly what I needed!), this was actually kind of a big deal. I crept into the first manicure place I saw… which happened almost immediately, considering that they’re liberally scattered all over 8th Avenue and basically every other street corner in New York! I was amazed by how cheap it was (relatively), so I decided to go the whole hog and go for a pedicure/manicure combo. Thankfully the Chinese girls working there were pretty bossy when I walked in (“What you want? You want mani-pedi? Okay, you pick colour you sit down you wait, okay?”) so I didn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking about the process. I picked my colour (fire-engine red, what else?) and had my feet and hands soaked, buffed, rubbed and painted, and left feeling like a million dollars. I decided then and there that, while I was in New York at least, I would get my nails done every couple of weeks, just for the heck of it.

After that, I hunted for dinner and found a great little Mexican place called the Rocking Horse Cafe on 8th Avenue. It was a little bit ‘upscale’, but I figured I’d give it a go. The waiters seemed to see me as an object of pity, what with me being on my own (“Really? Just you?” the greeter said), but they gave me a great table by the window so I decided not to get all snot-nosed about it. The lighting was very atmospheric (read: tea light candles and not much else, so your food was largely in the shadows), but the food was amazing!!! I went for a couple of starters instead of one main course; the standout was this odd little concoction called a ‘Tamale de Camarones’ (shrimp tamale); the menu described it as a ‘steamed sweetcorn-masa dumpling, shrimp, chipotle butter and avocado pico de gallo.’ I’ll tell you what it really was: a mushy bundle of yum, wrapped in a big leaf. Deee-lish.

After eating, I was going to finish the chapter I was reading, but I noticed the waiters hovering like moths around a flame and realised that I was taking up valuable table space in hoppin’ Chelsea. I felt terribly noble when I dragged my ass out of that seat, I can tell you! I walked back to the Duane Reade on 8th Avenue to pick up my photos and had a bit of a blow-out on toiletries, moisturiser and the like, and a couple of other things I had forgotten to get for the house when I first moved in. Then I scuttled back home in the rain to admire my freshly-painted toenails and to Skype Arun, who by this point was smack-bang in the middle of coursework for his degree while I was gallivanting in New York! Ah, life’s a bitch, ha ha ha!

I stayed up stupidly late again, for no good reason, I think, other than the fact that I was just enjoying being alone and having no schedule to keep to. Sweet freedom!

Thanks for stopping by,

Tara.

Tags: chelsea new york, duane reade, manicure, new york, new york city, nyc, pedicure, rocking horse chelsea, rocking horse mexican, rocking horse mexican new york, rocking horse mexican nyc, travel