the big boom

My sister called this evening to let me know that “something happened” in New York City, where she lives, but not to worry because she’s “ok.” I’m sure you’ve all heard by now that a steam pipe exploded near Grand Central Station. R was still at work when it happened, but she had to walk past it on her way home — her apartment is 6 blocks away from the explosion — and took these pics on her cell.

I had just gotten a pedicure when she called, my first in Omaha. I met up with one of the two girls I know out here at a mildly sketchy nail salon in a highly sketchy mall. They didn’t have any polish by Essie and just a couple of bottles by Orly; both brands are staples in NYC salons. Remember in 2001, when everyone got Essie “Ballet Slippers” manicures? Instead the salon Julie and I went to had hundreds of half-used bottles of polish in outdated colors, some so old that the oils inside were separating. Still, I managed to get a pretty decent pedicure (and the price was right), though next time I’ll probably bring my own bottle of polish.