Seperation Anxiety from my Bonsai Tree

It's funny how a New Yorker, when dragged forcibly out of Manhattan (because that's usually what it takes for us to leave our obsessively beloved island), reacts when presented with large amounts of greenery and foliage. I'm presently somewhere in the middle of Connecticut, on the "Lucky Star" bus en route to Boston. Yes, again. The vehicle is surprisingly comfortable and clean, considering it's a fifteen dollar fare and the thing left from Chrystie Street in the heart of China Town. I mean, dude, my ticket is even in Chinese. I was expected to be... well, I won't even say what I was expecting... but it involved large quantities of less-than-aromatic fish.

So about half an hour after we left the city, we hit our first patch of unobstructed land. I gasped loudly and excitedly tapped my half-sleeping friend into consciousness, reacting much like a pitchfork-holding farmer would if an Unidentified Flying Object was hovering about over his crop of yams. As she wriggled her eyebrows awake at my loud, caffeine-induced hyperactive pleading to LOOK outside the window, other bus riding patrons rolled their eyes at my ridiculous delight. I was That Person, the Urbanite who's definition of ample plant life is a half-wilted Bonsai tree that she keeps on top of her refrigerator.

My amazement has only grown as we go further and further North -- there are forests and houses, there's sky with nothing in it and... mini malls. I feel kind of like a Superhero who's traveling dangerously far away from his power source, like Superman might if he went to Pluto. All right, perhaps not to that extreme (considering it's New York to Boston versus something inter-planetary) but you know what I mean.

This is my second trip to Boston in a mere week and a half, but this time I'm not taking it alone. Two friends of mine, Kristen and Anne, are traipsing up to Boston with me for a few castings that are occurring over the weekend. They for Surrogates (the film I had gone in for last week), and I to play a ballroom dancer for some new Anne Hathaway film. My partner couldn't make it up here, thus, I'm curious to see if I'm going to end up having to dance about by myself, which would be entirely awkward as ballroom is kind of a two person deal. Regardless. A weekend in Boston with two equally a-tad-bit-crazy mischief-seeking friends shall be a blast. At least this time I won't be wandering down to the Wine Bar of the hotel by myself feeling like I resemble a banker-seeking prostitute.

I'm going to resume pressing my face against the window to ogle at the Oak clusters now, so until next time. Hey... that one strangely resembles my... oh crap. I totally forgot to water my Bonsai tree.

-- Ashley Avis