We got up at eight a.m. to go to see the Statue of Liberty today. The trains were crazy on the way down, so we didn’t wind up arriving until nearly 10:30.

I’d been there before, back in college when they still let you climb up to the crown. We opted not to do the monument pass and just walked around on the island. It’s hard to get a sense of scale until you get there. I mean, sure, you know it’s a big statue, but standing at the base is a whole different thing. You know the pedestal she stands on? It’s equivalent to a ten-story building.

And the star? I always thought that was part of the base, but it’s not. It’s a fort that was built for the War of 1812. I had no idea.

The weather was gooooorgeous today and the island was so pretty that I almost think it might be worth the twelve dollar ferry ride on it’s own. If there just weren’t so many darned tourists.

I was so horrified about the Braves’ game that I completely forgot to tell you about taking Katherine to Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. One of her school chums told her that if she did anything in NYC, she had to go there. I was, to say the least, skeptical but I am nothing if not a devoted aunt.

They’ve got wax figures standing around in the lobby. The funny thing was that as we waited in line, we started wondering if anyone standing still was wax. Like the security guy who was really bored. When he blinked it was a surprising.

The exhibit starts in “opening night” which is set in this big diaorama of a rooftop party hosted by Tony Bennett. Some of the waxworks were uncannily good, and I found myself not wanting to get into their line of sight. Others seemed to bear little resemblance to their namesake. The most interesting part about this room was getting sense of height and size. Harrison Ford is a tall man. Joan Rivers is tiny. That sort of thing.

From there we went into the history room, which, I must say, was surprisingly edifying. See, they’ve got a wax self portrait of Madame Tussaud there that she did in 1842. Yeah. And it is very, very convincing. Across the room is a wax figure that she did in 1801 of Napoleon. It was really chilling.

The rest of the exhibit, didn’t really take me the way those two did. I think that both are recast from her molds — though the exhibit doesn’t say that — but it is still astonishing. I’ve since looked up Madame’s history and am now fascinated by her.

Now, it should be obvious that I’m not really a sports scene sort of person. That said, if there’s a sport I enjoy, it’s baseball and the Braves are the only team that I’ve ever seriously followed. So I was not dreading going to see the game with Katherine. I called around, found a place that would have the game on and we headed down.

We all, including Katherine, agreed that Blondies was a ruthlessly unpleasant experience.

Food? My vegetarian chili was fine. The caesar salad was so watery as to be almost inedible. I mean, yes, wash the lettuce, but then at least drain it. Rob’s fries and garden burger also seemed fine. Katherine’s buffalo wings? She couldn’t even finish them because they were “slimy” and “gross.” This is a girl who loooooves buffalo wings. The fat and skin to meat content was apparently on the wrong end of the spectrum.

Atmosphere? Frigid. We had to wear our coats the whole time.

Music? Deafening. I mean, Rob put in ear plugs. I actually had my fingers in my ears at one point because it was nightclub loud. Not a nightclub. Sportsbar. I finally asked one of the waitresses if they could turn the music down a little.

She said, “It’s really hard to turn music down in a bar. Where are you from?”

“I live in New York.”

“Oh. Well, it’s really hard to turn music down.”

Right… funny thing. From my time waiting tables if a customer asks you to turn the music down, you turn it down. Now, she did briefly turn it down. For one song. Then she turned it back up, louder, so she could dance in the back to it. I kid you not.

When the Braves tied the Nationals at the top of the ninth, I was not happy. I should have been rooting for the Braves but all I could think was that now we were going to be stuck there for another inning and that I would have to kill someone.

The Nationals won, without going to extra innings. Katherine was sad, but we were all grateful to get out of that joint.

Oh, and the ladies bathroom? Gross. Truck stop level grossness.