Good Night, Sweetheart, Well It's Time to Go...

Day 6 of the T-90 Project:

The swim team manager at the New York Athletic Club came to my happy hour and was kind enough to offer me four tickets to an upcoming Yankees game. I nearly died. I'd been harassing everyone about getting to a Yankees game before I left and it finally happened. And I got to take three friends.

NovaCat, Fashionista and FunnyGirl all met me at Kennedy's for some pre-stadium drinks. The bartender was a little too generous with the pours, and after three rounds of drinks, he offered us each a free cocktail. It was nearly 7:30 but none of us felt the need to skip out on his offer.

We showed up at the stadium a little on the late side, but I decided I'd rather get there late and stay till the end then show up early and fade away before the seventh inning stretch. It was one of the finest nights I've ever had at Yankees Stadium, not because Fashionista downed two cheesesteaks on her own, but because we all just had the best time. I texted my cousin who works the cameras for the YES Network and when he asked me what section I was in and to stand up we landed on the Jumbotron a few seconds later. It was a stunning end to my days in New York and we're all kicking ourselves for not having been fast enough to snap any photo of our Jumbotron appearance.

Day 5:

My coworker had a going away party for me at his apartment. The view was absolutely ridiculous and it was above and beyond generous for him to host me and the rest of our office. I will never forget him or that night or the hilariously appropriate napkins he bought for the party:

Day 4:

It was a day I thought would never come -- my last day of work. I cried during my going away speech (it's tradition to have cake for the person leaving and for them to give a "speech" during the festivities). I was beyond control and just let it rip. I knew I was doomed when I said goodbye to my best bud Keith in the cafeteria and I just cried uncontrollably. I think someone was filming my horrible speech, and even though I asked nicely for him to stop, I don't know that he did. I just hope the video won't be posted to YouTube any time soon.

Here's the cake my incredibly generous boss bought me:

Day 3:

My friend Ozzie visited this past weekend from Indiana. I knew we were headed somewhere for drinks and dinner and I laughed when he told me to meet him and his friends at Buddakan. I find it odd and amusing that I go to Buddakan with out-of-town visitors only. Do New Yorkers actually eat here? Ozzie had some really exciting news to share, but the only problem was he didn't have a voice. I met and bonded with two of his close girlfriends from his days of living in Australia. After dinner, our server brought us the most incredible dessert. He overheard us talking about my imminent departure from New York and he took it upon himself to gin up this adorable sorbet concoction. I thanked him profusely and offered him my blog card, with hopes he'd come to this page and see how grateful I was:


After dinner we rallied some friends to check out SPiN, the new ping-pong bar. It was hilarious and well worth checking out.

Days 2 through Days -4: I stayed in New York (or its surrounding area) a little longer than expected so T-90 really ended up being about T-95. I'm home writing from my couch, really sleepy coming off of a great though emotional dinner with my parents -- one of our last until we meet again in Jackson Hole next weekend. Dad and T- fly out to meet my mom and me on the cross-country journey and I can't wait.

My last week in New York I made three trips from my apartment to Conn. moving myself out -- and I still have a bed and guitar I can't sell on Craig's List; I had dinner with my roommates at Vareli and it blew us all away with its great wines and delicious tapas; I had drinks with a former flame/co-worker and I really enjoyed our time spent over beer and no work party drowning us out; I had a last dinner with my best girlfriends at The Spotted Pig which then turned into drinks at Dublin 6 and drinks and dancing at Automatic Slims (Slims was where I had one of my first major birthdays in the city so it was only appropriate that I return there for one last hurrah); I cried reading cards and emails from friends wishing me well and saying goodbye, for now; I was overcome with sadness at the thought of leaving my dad on the east coast; I finally made it to the Frick where I enjoyed Henry Clay's collection of Rembrandts, Vermeers and Holbeins; I cried when I received this text from MissHockey, "Tomorrow is a sad day for NYC."

It's a sad day for me, too.