The only light in NYC

New York City - you sleep and I caught you! Oh, city of famed bars that didn't call last call until 4 am - city of fabled romantic late late dinners that end under the light of a rising sun - why were you sleeping so soundly Friday Night?

After a series of misadventures, my friend Tripod and I found ourselves on the Metro North line going into The City. We were out for our first Fashion Night Out - her being effortlessly fabulous in timeless red pants, white mod heels, and a black shirt under a white tuxedo shirt- and me, posing as timeless in a fringe dress, nude fishnets, long pearls and a hair band that Katherine Hepburn might have worn. We didn't look like friends - we didn't look like we had anything in common; her in her coral lipstick and me in my cherry red - but somehow, I think we worked it.

I was in my element as soon as I had a Gin and Tonic in my hand. I met the best looking man I've ever seen in my life. I played with Tripod's professional camera and posed as a fashion blogger. I saw Gwen Stephani.

Then, we decided that the teeny-bopper Justin Beiber fan club had gotten to be too smothering - it was time to split. Time to find something to eat.

Now, growing up far and away from The City, you hear legends of the night life and the restaurants. But, walking from the Lower East Side to Times Square and beyond, we found not one restaurant open - or bar that had it's kitchen still serving food. We started looking around 10:30 p.m. Two and a half hours later, we were able to find sustenance - a hot dog cart. We sat in the bright light pollution of times square, people watched all the tourists and dined on hot dogs, a pretzel and diet coke.

This is not the first time this has happened to me. It's gotten to be so common that I no longer venture to the city without a bottle of water and a granola bar. Avenue of the Americas is no where to be caught with low blood sugar.

As Tripod and I were wrapping up one of those lovely deepening-your-bond-of-friendship talks, we began meandering back to Grand Central Station. We stopped at a Swatch display to discuss colors and quality. I always pause to admire tall buildings - I love how some of the windows shine different colors and never in any geometric pattern. Tripod likes to look in the windows in hopes of catching people having sex in one of the offices.

We got to Grand Central - 9 minutes after the last train had left. It was 2:09 a.m. and the next train to New Haven was at 5:35 a.m. and we were tired and cold and wearing inappropriate shoes for the amount of walking we had done.

Missing the train was not due to a lack of planning or preparation - both of us had stuck train schedules in our purses when we bought our tickets. We just hadn't looked at the schedules. And we were not wearing watches. We figured that the trains wouldn't just stop. But they do. And Grand Central CLOSES. Can you believe it? I didn't. Not at first.

We survived. I bought brown bootie slippers and walked the sidewalks with the confidence of someone who does not know what a hypodermic needle is.

Getting home at 8:14 a.m. the following morning I realized: 26 is not too old to stay out all night. As a matter of fact, it's the perfect time for me to be doing this. I have the vitality of my 21 year old self, but the experience now to apply make up that holds up perfectly into the next morning. Photo Below:

It's 8:16 a.m. - this make-up went on at 5:37 p.m. the night before.