Times Square. Why Am I there?

Times Square. Why Am I there?

You heard it here first, People. I’m in The Big Apple, the City that Never Sleeps, Gotham City, New York City.

In case you’re wondering, I’m not on a several-city book tour. I’m just visiting one place, NYC. Those are all nicknames for this behemoth megalopolis. I’m not being redundant. It’s that big a city. It needs a lot of nicknames.

As a Highly Sensitive Blonde (HSB)–why not create a new category for fair-headed sensitive people?– this is quite the experience. And not exactly in a good way.

I wouldn’t say I’m panicked yet, but I have a few more days before I get to go home to my cave condo.

I don't know what I was thinking, either. The street vendor was so pushy and yet so convincing. He wore me down. He said the hat made me look years younger. I trusted him. You should never let me out there on my own again, I tell you! Never!  Where will I wear this when I get back home?

I don’t know what I was thinking, either. The street vendor was so pushy and yet so convincing. He wore me down. He said the hat made me look years younger. I trusted him. You should never let me out there on my own again, I tell you! Never! Where will I wear this when I get back home?

You see, Philip is here all week on “business.” At least that’s what he says as he disappears out of the hotel door at 8:00 and doesn’t return until 5:00. He comes back wearing a badge with his name on it, so either the “gentlemen’s” clubs he’s going to all require visible ID or he really is in some kind of seminar. Either way, he comes back looking very tired.

I’m tired, too. Of sitting in the hotel room. So I go out and walk the streets.

No matter how hard I try to blend in with the crowd, they seem to know I'm a tourist.

No matter how hard I try to blend in with the crowd, they seem to know I’m a tourist.

Then I come back to the room to recover. Midtown Manhattan is no place for a HSB (Highly Sensitive Blonde) to be wandering around aimlessly.

Here’s why:

1. This is a city of 22.2 million people. Plus it’s tourist season. That means the city is teaming with at least the population of China. And they are all on the same streets I’m walking on. Going the other way.

Excuse me. Pardon me, but I need to get through...oh never mind.

Excuse me. Pardon me, but I need to get through…oh never mind.

2. There are over 6,300 miles of streets in NYC. I can’t tell one from the other. All the hot dog vendor carts look alike. I’m sorry if that sounds as if I’m being a cartist, but they do.  I find it hard to tell where I am by my internal GPS protocol that relies less on actual addresses and more on landmarks. Women, you know what I mean.

3. This is a very noisy city. No wonder King Kong got all kerfuffled. Horns, sirens, shouting. He was probably a Highly Sensitive Mutant.

I'm just trying to get away from all the noise and pandemonium. The Jungle was so much more peaceful. I miss the jungle. Mommy!

I’m just trying to get away from all the noise and pandemonium. The Jungle was so much more peaceful. I miss the jungle. Mommy!

4. People just come up and talk to me. Some want to convert me to Jesus or Allah to save me. Others really want me to “have a good time.” But I don’t know how flying midgets will spice up my sex life, do you? (I really, really hope you don’t. And some guy really, really did ask Philip and me if we wanted to get some flying midgets.)

The man was standing right next to...

The man was standing right next to…

...the Naked Cowboy.

…the Naked Cowboy.

Thursday night we’re going to see The Book of Mormon. We’re very excited about that. And the weather so far has been ideal: sunny, upper 70’s and low humidity. I’m even stopping to smell (but not buy) the roses.)

I really am having a good time!

I really am having a good time!

Until there’s more news to report from the Big City…

Give an HSB a break, would ya?

Give a HSB a break, would ya?