Pat Pat Pat
Today I went down to New York Presbyterian to visit a friend who unexpectedly wound up in the hospital. So aside from the very serious and multilayered concerns, which take a while to sink in and work their way around my mind anyway, my first -- and easiest to handle -- thought was, What do I bring? Given that flowers aren't allowed and she's not the teddy bear/mylar balloon sort?
I love giving presents. Not on cue -- I'm not a fan of Christmas for that reason -- but I love that click when I see just the thing for someone, and tend to stockpile gifts all through the year and hope I can find them when birthdays roll around. So when inspiration struck when I needed it this time around, I was so pleased. On my way down to the east side I stopped by Book Culture, one of the two fine indie bookstores near my office. It used to be Labyrinth Books, for those of you who know the 'hood, and I think the new name is a bit unfortunate -- it makes me think of petri dishes. But regardless, it has the best selection of glossy high-end magazines and literary journals of any place I know uptown. And there I purchased:
All of them fat, fun, and trashy/smart, with interesting articles to read and great pictures to look at if she wasn't up to reading (the links all work, if you're interested). The whole bunch tied up in a green ribbon and delivered in one of the excellent Book Culture tote bags, because eventually all that loot needs to be hauled home...
What can I say? I was just tickled with the gifts I bore, and I had a fine old time picking them out. I love shiny lowbrow/highbrow magazines, but I don't tend to splurge on myself like that. And I know she wouldn't either, which made them extra fun to buy. I hope when she gets to them they cheer her up a little.
If I ever end up in the hospital, faithful readers, I hope you all will take the hint.