I, Lynn Haraldson-Bering, do solemnly swear to write details of my trip to New York as soon as I’ve had a bath and a night to relax. Give me 24 hours. In the meantime, I wrote this blog about my exploits after I got home.
I got home from New York safely last night, but not without a little incident. As I heaved my suitcase into the back of the Jeep, I smacked the top of my head on the hatch. I saw stars and thought I might pass out. It hurt like a son of a bitch. I shook it off, unlocked the passenger door, threw my purse and computer bag on the seat and walked around to the driver’s side. Then I felt the blood.
“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” I said. Here the nice folks at NBC let me wear my hair curly, I was still sporting a nice ‘do and I was bleeding all over it. I put my gloved hand to my head just as the blood curled over my lip and I got in the car. I found some Kleenex in my glove box and wiped up. I was freezing and cursing, but then I started laughing. What if I’d actually passed out? I was in the middle of nowhere, parked in extended parking, it was 20 degrees outside and I was wearing a big sweater. No coat, no hat, no scarf. Just a sweater. By the time my kids or airport security or some poor sap returning from Aruba found me, I’d have been frozen solid to the pavement. At least I’d have had a smile on my face. New York, after all, was a lot of fun.
So anyway, I got to my daughter Cassie’s house safely and she, being the good nurse, cleaned my wound, told me I could probably stand at a stitch or two, and smeared some antibacterial cream on it. The bleeding had stopped, I was tired and hungry and didn’t want to miss my Entertainment Tonight debut, so I opted not to visit the emergency room. I’m fine, really I am, except for a slight headache, a nice goose egg and a little caked blood which is hidden by my hair.
While I was safe and fortunate to not be passed out on the pavement at the airport, my cell phone spent the night on the street. It fell out of my purse when I left Cassie’s house with Carlene last night. I don’t use my cell phone much except when I travel, so I didn’t miss it until this morning and I wanted to call my husband and let him know when I’d be home today. I panicked a little when I couldn’t find it, not because I’m particularly attached to my phone, but because everyone’s phone number is plugged into it. Everyone. My kids, my mom and dad, sisters, brothers, sisters-in-law, nail salon, vet, Michael, Dana, Kristin, ah!! And I don’t have these phone numbers written down anywhere and I don’t have them memorized.
I wondered all through breakfast where my phone could be. I also thought about how I’d recover all those phone numbers and I pretty much decided I’d need to do a massive email campaign like a presidential candidate in New Hampshire. I ate my oatmeal and made funny faces at my granddaughter, then I made my peace with my phone loss and the recovery job ahead of me and drove back to Cassie’s to start part two of my day: apartment hunting with Carlene.
As I drove up to Cassie’s, I saw a little black blob on the street where Carlene’s car was parked the night before. ‘Could it be my phone?’ I thought. I avoided running over it and pulled over. Sure enough, staring at me when I opened my door, was a little screen that said “1 New Voice Message.” Just as I’d left it. (Matthew, I promise I’ll call you soon.)
It’s banged up a little, sort of like my head, and it makes a scratchy noise when I press the buttons, but otherwise it’s no worse for wear. The phone numbers are all intact. My goal this weekend, along with writing a blog and a column, is to write them all down for safe keeping.
FYI: If you’d like to see the Today Show video from yesterday, click here. My clip is on the bottom right, just next to Britney Spears. What an odd bedfellow. Poor Britney, though, could use some Zen in her life.