Like most people who live in New York City, I'm not from New York City. In fact, I almost couldn't be farther from it.

So you'd think the small town gal in me would get excited about say, a gigantic Christmas tree or a Thanksgiving Day parade with gigantic turkeys and cartoon characters or a gigantic, drunken, green orgy in March, but no.

I just haven't been interested until I made it a point to go to Lincoln Center to see David Blaine in his sphere. It's not that I like David Blaine - I really don't know anything about him, besides the fact that he is one crazy fool (information courtesy of his website). He apparently wants to amass huge amounts of press time _______ing himself alive. Insert your own fun verbs to make a gerund there.

I think he's buried himself alive. Perhaps burned himself alive. I do know, though, that he's trying to drown himself alive on television on Monday. Meanwhile, he's making like the biggest publicity whoring sea monkey at Lincoln Center.

Before venturing out to wait in line for twenty-five minutes to not even see David Blaine's face, I joked with Nick that I should make signs to hold up to the glass. Something like: "David, why the masochism?" "Want a towel?" "How's the weather in there?" "Ewww! Did you just pee?" Alas, I forgot the sign idea and while waiting, noticed some zealous David Blaine admirer holding signs up to the transparent sphere...and getting air time. Crikey! The signs, in case you're curious, said something like, "Your [sic] #1!!!!" and "Go, David, it's your birfday!" Not so clever really.

News crews were there from all over the world - Tokyo, Europe, upstate New York. (Though Blaine's aquarium has no pebbles, food, or plastic castle, it apparently has a microphone that amplifies his speech, since reporters are just dying to ask him such stimulating questions as, "How do you feel?" and "You're not actually going to drown, are you?" The answers? Glug, glug, and glug. All very audible). The media workers kept holding up the viewing of the sphere, so by the time I got to walk up the grated ramp and get the heel of my shoe stuck in it, David was interviewing with even more reporters.

So...if you're watching the news and you see people on the other side of the sphere, I might be one of them. I'm the one in the brown shirt, wiggling her heel out of the grate, snapping pictures of Blaine's backside, glad she didn't go to the St. Patrick's Day parade.