Travel Diary: NYC

Day 1: Friday we took a "personal enrichment day" from class because we had an important person to see. 

All photos in this post shamelessly stolen from Jessica [center.]

That person was the host of The Late Show with Jimmy Fallon.

One of these people is Mr. Fallon. Another is a smooth-dancing tuba player. Another is c) none of the above.

Anne Hathaway was his first guest. [I don't hate her as much as some other members of our party, but there's no denying that the Mia Thermopolis we knew and loved left the building a long time ago.] Sean Lennon was everything you'd expect- but wittier and more talkative. Yoko was just nuts.

Toward the end of the show Jimmy dear ran through the crowd. We were at the end of the line, so by that time people had figured out that they could stand up and hold out things for him to autograph. Because I'm less about messy signatures and all about getting physical with celebrities, I waited. Smiled a confident, "This is not weird!" and brightly held up my hand for a high-five. Taken aback that I was offering nothing for him to write his name on, he said (kind of startled) "Hey, how are you?" and then not just high-fived but CLASPED me like the bros that we are.

Later that night, I was in an improv show with Tina Fey- playing her. She came up to me afterwards and told me what a good job I'd done and how much she enjoyed seeing me on stage. Then she kissed me on the cheek. It was the best moment of my life. "That really just happened!" I thought. "I can't wait to write this down in my journal!" Then I woke up.

[seriously, how lame am I that my first subconscious thought is to journal about this??]

Day 2: 9/11 memorial. I am not trying to be facetious when I say there are swimming pools of death.

Trinity Church. A small haven of greenery.

ALSO. I have no pictures to prove this, but there is a cafe called Oliverio's somewhere on the way from Times Square to Central Park. Like 53rd or 54th and 7th or 8th. [directions aren't my forte.] But if you can find it, congratulations- for it is the best, cheapest place you will ever find in that city to eat! We went there for lunch and were convinced that once we left, it would disappear like a room of requirement.

Haylee: So when do you close?
Nice Employee Man: We never close. 

What? But he wasn't kidding. We came back for dinner.

That night we saw a fairly new show, Nice Work If You Can Get It- a collaboration of Gershwin songs starring Matthew Broderick. I cannot recommend this enough. It was charming and funny and old-fashioned in all the best ways. Family-friendly. Set in the 20's, so the costumes were fabulous. The dancing was fabulous. Everyone unabashedly gets together right at the end, which was fabulous. I'm a firm believer in happy endings.

After the show we went the wrong direction (typical) and ran into a HUGE crowd of people surrounding a few cars on both sides of the road. Hey moms, we asked. Who are we waiting for? "Ricky Martin." OmG RiCkY MaRtIn?!??!? At that point there was nothing we could do but stand and take pictures and scream when we saw some men in black suits- one of whom was probably Ricky Martin- get into a car. And then a hand waving out the window- which we were 95% sure belonged to a man. Oh, it was a thrill.

But THEN when we rounded the block what did we see? The back entrance of OUR SHOW. We made friends with the driver of the car we were hanging around. There weren't that many people there. Not enough to scream and jump and yell nice things at people like we're used to. So we quietly and politely snapped a quick pick with Kelli O'Hara, the leading lady. And hung around for Matthew Broderick.

via Sydnie's iphone

They had done two shows that day and he looked so. exhausted. So tired that we didn't even want to assault him or make a scene. But as he was getting in the car I chirped, "We love you, Matthew Broderick!" We locked eyes for a second and he looked kind of weirded out. "Thank you." And then he got in the car.

It's okay, Ferris. You're a happily married man. I get it. I just want you to know that when I saw you climb on that float and sing Danke Schoen, I have not been the same girl since.