First Things First

News of a vaccine to keep the Coronavirus away (or not as lethal) is everywhere, and I am paying attention. It's rolling out slowly and most of us aren't getting them yet unless you are a health care worker or living in a skilled nursing or assisted living setting.

But they are rolling out. There are also some cautionary tales. I'm watching, I'm waiting, but also hoping.

I've been pretty much on lockdown since March. I do get out, of course, but I haven't been to any restaurants (except for takeout) or concerts or theater for months. I haven't gone out to see a movie or gone to a party or met up with friends for coffee or a meal. 

I miss my life, and I know you do too. I don't want to whine about it because I know too many people who have been sick and too many others who are caring for them. And we, including me, are no where near out of the woods yet.

What I do want to say is that 2020 made me stop taking my life for granted in a million, zillion ways. And as the year gets closer to ending, I want--need--to dream a little. So I'm thinking.

What is the first place I'll go when lockdown is truly over and when I don't have to worry about this virus anymore? 

Maybe I'll see if my darlin' wants to go to a bed and breakfast to celebrate. We'd go to a little town on the river, maybe stop at a bar for pizza and play some rounds of pool. Maybe go to a town not so far from here with a beach where we can swim. Then go to a restaurant afterwards.

Theater and movies, check, and all this is great. But where do I really want to go?

I've always wanted to go to Prague and we need to figure that out. But in the meantime, one of the first things I want is to get on a plane for New York and see my family and friends.

And.

The Rainbow Room. Opened in 1934, hopefully still open in 2021.

Will it survive? It better. At 30 Rockefeller Plaza, 65th Floor, entering at 49 West 49th Street (how cool is that)? Will there be a band? I'd want music from the 1930s and I'd want some sort of dress they'd have worn then too. Something Fred and Ginger-ish. I'm going to find a cocktail I've never had before and have at least three of them (six)? Maybe some champagne.

There will also have to be some tea time at the Plaza Hotel. A walk through Central Park and we'll have to get down to Bleecker Street for a Hazelnut ice at Rocco's--my Beat Street character Ruby recommends we do that first.

But then, she hasn't been to the Rainbow Room and neither have I. So that's my first stop when all this virus stuff is done. Though it can't be just a restaurant--it has to be just like it was. 

Which also means there has to be a band -- otherwise it's a deal breaker. Because if I make it there--you know? Gotta dance.

Gown image: Bea Serendipity / Ghee

Doing and Don'ting in a Pandemic Year

This is not a manners thing, or any kind of a thing--it's just a do and don't list I made up after seven months of living in Pandemic Land. 

DO:

1. Keep cleaning, even though you hate it. Otherwise you'll hate being home even more.

2. Save your shekels for takeout (every other week)? I just hate to cook, is all.

3. Try not to let your paperwork pile up endlessly -- see number one for reason why.

4. Invest in better coats and scarves so you can talk to friends or neighbors when it gets cold. Try to talk to real people instead of imagining them (which I have been known to do).

5. If you have an exercise bike and winter is coming, plunk it in front of the TV and watch the trashiest shows you can. It will make you feel better about exercising.

6. If you have a happy marriage/relationship, let the other person know it. 

7. Read all the books you avoided for years because of binge watching all your favorite shows.

8. Keep binge-watching. (What else is there to do?)

9. Start a project, no matter how long you think it will take to finish. It may be the only thing that keeps you sane.

10. Stay away from sugar if at all possible. Except once a month -- I think that's fair.

11. If you miss your parents, kids, sibs and others because you're way the hell across the country, start thinking about what it would take to see them and make a plan. Seriously. I haven't seen my son and family--let alone some of my dearest friends--since last Thanksgiving.

12. Vote. Please.

DON'T:

1. Stay with anyone who's hurting you, physically, emotionally or otherwise.

2. Argue politics on Facebook or Twitter - it's just not worth it.

3. Overindulge in drinking/drugging/eating (I kind of said that already, didn't I)?

4. Isolate even more than you already are. Zoom, FaceTime, call, write, whatever. 

5.  Let anxiety eat your life.

6. Kill your cat.

7. Pick fights with friends or colleagues.

8. Lose hope.

9. Stop eating pickles.

Have a list of your recommendations? Let me know - I'd love to see them.

Deer Ones

Are you feeling a little, um, SCREAMY right now? (I ask because I am). 

I guess what's really getting to me is not the BIG thing. It's a bunch of little ones. Is it always that way? I don't know.

Never mind the pandemic, she says. Here's what's driving me crazy today:

• Getting up early on a weekend to drive around looking for supplies like toilet paper, wipes, hand sanitizer (forget it), paper towels and alcohol. Husband tried first, then I tried. Between us we found a few things. (If you are hoarding toilet paper, you are NOT my friend.
• Being scared by... grocery shopping! Could I ever have imagined that while watching every horror movie in the world? But that's what I'm feeling right now. Was I less than six feet away from that lady who just scooted by me? Of course not. Did someone with the virus touch that pear? Can I stop driving myself crazy for seven seconds? Apparently not.
• Washing hands, washing hands again, cleaning the counter, disinfecting sponges in the microwave, washing the floor, washing containers and packaging when I get home from the grocery store.

"As if we weren't neurotic enough," my husband says.

I nod and laugh, and we both laugh, and then start washing our hands again. 

I try not to worry about my son and his fiance in New York and whether all this virus stuff will be behind us (Satan) in time for their August wedding.

I try not to worry about all my family and friends in New York and how they're getting through this. I want to go see them in April and have a plane ticket, even though everyone (including my son) is telling me it's best to cancel it. I haven't been able to yet. I just haven't been able to make the call.

I try not to worry about all my friends and neighbors (especially the older ones) and all the people I know in theater and restaurant work who have been laid off and are struggling to pay rent. 

I would go for a walk but it's pouring. 

Deep breath. 

Last night, 2 a.m. 

My husband told me he got up for a moment and looked out the window. Four deer were on the lawn eating the dried out bits of garden in our front yard. 

I am not going to worry about whether or not they're eating up the first spring shoots of flowers or plants. I just love that we have deer out there.

I'm hoping to get up tonight so I can see them. Because even one tiny ray of pretty in a world full of screamy will make me feel better.

That's all I want right now. Well, not all. But I'll take it.