The 12 Days of NYC Christmas

Last week, Neal and I embarked on a child-free weekend to New York City. It had been a trip in the planning stages since before there was even a need for a babysitter. A move to Georgia pushed us further away, a move to Virginia brought us closer but we were still unpacking boxes at Christmas, and then a move to Kentucky took us further away again, but with a promise that we would make it happen. Next year. Next year became this year, Neal purchased plane tickets and the deal was sealed. Christmas in the city...it's like Disney World for me...the most magical place on earth. If Neal had proposed at Epcot, perhaps I would feel differently. But he didn't. He popped out a rock at The Top of the Rock(efeller Center) and NYC has been magic ever since. It doesn't hurt that my sister from another mister, Shana, lives there, too. So, the itinerary was set, non-refundable show tickets were bought, 3-page babysitting instructions were typed (only 3 pages because he was watched over by his grandmothers) and then we had a plane to catch.

At  6:00 AM. And we had stayed up watching Brian Williams' daughter play Peter Pan the night before. While that was not time wasted, it was certainly not all that well-spent. I don't know why it didn't occur to me to, say, sleep.

So, we boarded a plane in Louisville, with airport Starbucks in hand, not yet ready for the whirlwind of Christmas activities Shana had planned for us. Without a child in tow, I had asked (perhaps begged) her to squeeze in as many traditional New York City Christmas-related events as possible and, oh by the way, we wanted to see Wicked. She is a logistical dynamo and if this whole accounting thing doesn't work out, I'm setting up a Kick-Start account to fund her tourism company. She's that good. I would not Kick-Start just anyone.

But first, the sun needed to rise on day 1.

Flying into the east, whether it's on a jet or a broom, definitely has its advantages. 

A rainbow sighting next to the dawning sun? Don't mind if I do. That's a good sign, right? One of great promise?

A very smooth flight, and (much more importantly) prompt (even early) arrival in La Guardia set the tone for the weekend. There may have been a mix-up about which terminal we were in as Shana was circling terminal C and we were actually in B (who names all of their gates C1-9 in a B Terminal? And is English their first language?), but we saw her sitting at a stoplight and jumped in. For future reference, it's not really a great idea to jump into someone's car, unbeknownst to them, at a NYC airport...regardless of how long you've known one another. It could get you Maced.

And we were off on a great adventure! With the exception of tomorrow (because tomorrow night is the Army Ball and I have (some) hair to get done and make-up to apply (which alone will take at least 7 tries) and some Spanx to squeeze into), I am going to post 12 great ways to experience Christmas in New York City everyday until Christmas Eve. I should probably do my own city, but honestly, I could run out around #4. And who doesn't want to see photos of ice skaters busting their asses in front of the big gold guy in Rockefeller Center?

So, let's do this...beginning with breakfast!