Trains, Planes and Israeli Coffee in NYC

My travel karma this summer has been monumentally bad. I left camp on Sunday afternoon, after not sleeping for more than a few hours a night for about 2 weeks. On the ride into ATL, there was talk of all tri-state area flights being canceled. Not too concerned, I put in a call to my airline, and they told me that I was delayed, but I still needed to check in as if my flight were leaving on time. Hours upon hours later, I got to Newark, and dragged my belongings from the airport out to Rockland county, where I finally saw my best friend and pretty immediately, passed out face-first on a couch.

Just one of the many train trips with my silly, hot bag (of blessed memory). Also, Meredith is awesome!

No rest for the weary, though, because the next day I was off to NYC's Grand Central, by way of Penn Station, and therefore, Times Square, in order to get to the camp whose NJ office will be the site of my year-long internship. Decked out in my brand-new camp fleece, received just the day before, I set off bright and early to catch a train into the city, so I could transfer to catch a train out of the city. (Was that enough tri-state name-dropping to spin your head?) As the train pulled into Penn Station, I looked around me. The tall buildings! The saucy attitudes! The ridiculous outfits! I was in Manhattan!

After checking the outbound train schedule, I saw that I had some time to get to my upstate-bound train. I took advantage of the time, and walked above-ground to Grand Central. Taking in Midtown is something one can only do in moderation, but I fell into step with my fellow New Yorkers, smiling at the disgusting subway air updrafts, giggling at street performers and marveling at taxis cutting each other off. I took the train up to camp, had a great time, and came back.

Exhaustion hadn't set in at this point -- it was well-established. Stumbling through my daze, I made my way to the Shuttle, and got on the train. I sat down, and saw the ads for abbreviated BA degrees, the latest in paperback fiction and the posters of MTA-sponsored arts and poetry. As 15 people dashed through the doors, just as they were closing, I grinned. That smell! Those people! This sound of screeching trains on tracks! My first subway ride in a year, and I was HOME.

Aroma ba'ir -- New York that is.
How weird is it to see Aroma's logo in English?
Also, I ordered in Hebrew!
I needed some Aroma to get me through this trip!