The city is entirely different this week. It is raining and steamy and although the streets are full of New Yorkers walking in a hurry, the energy is less intense than it was last week. There are umbrellas out in force and the streets are full of puddles, and my feet are wet after a couple of blocks. I took the train early in the morning hoping that the three children sleeping upstairs would let Eric stay in bed a little longer; but I could not help but peek at them before I left and as I was watching them sleep, Marius opened his eyes and before I knew it, Maya was hugging me goodbye. I heard from Eric that they dragged him out of bed shortly after I left the house and demanded pancakes and waffles; they had agreed last night that before they ate the gingerbread house they had decorated the evening before, they would eat a healthy breakfast. They tore through the candied house and then tore through the rest of the house, leaving it in disarray. They were out of control, according to Eric.
Tara does not have exams at her studio. She is graded by her performance, and this weekend was her final play. It was not appropriate for children, so Maya, who usually sees all of Tara's plays, would not have understood or appreciated 'The Rimers of Eldritch' by Lanford Wilson. I am convinced that she would have missed the story and been confused and certainly disturbed by the violence. I was impressed with Tara's performance.
We then sloshed through the puddles to get to Times Square and TKTS and were lucky to get tickets to 'Waiting for Godot' for two hours of absurdist fare with Nathan Lane and John Goodman. The play has rave reviews and a great cast, but perhaps because it was a matinee and the actors had drunk too much last night, the energy was not good, and the play felt like just another rendering of Beckett's script, well-done but not unique or memorable. I was most concerned with drying out my very wet feet and lower pant legs and warming up. The rain relented a bit when we left the theatre. We arrived at the Pigalle bistrot for brunch but took too long to decide on our food so had to change our order to the dinner menu. We talked for the next four hours and did not leave the restaurant because it was simply too cold and wet and miserable outside and much toastier inside.
I was pushing Tara on her plans for next year. She still wants to come to Ecuador with us, but is less interested in the country and more focused on getting away from her life. That is not necessarily a bad thing, but I want her to have a plan for her year away. Of course, she asked me what my plans are, and since I was unable to give her any specifics, I was unable to maintain my argument. We are escaping our ordinary lives for far less ordinary ones.