It was ominously warm. New York City was 70 degrees and the sun looked like it was taunting us with its doomful rays. Was this the end of the world? It was January and there were women in sarongs and open toe shoes. Men in shorts and mandals. I know it’s the apocalypse and everything but do men still have to expose their hairy toe cleavage?

What if the world was really ending and it was your last day on earth? What would you do? Well, my friends Richard, Ursy, and I decided to head to Central Park and go ice skating. Ice skating in 70 degrees? Why not?

“I feel so impulsive!” I squealed in the cab. Ursy was anxious. She had never gone ice skating before and she works as an actress for a living. Pointing to her face she said, “Look, nothing can happen to this money maker, okay?’ “Oh, don’t worry. It’s really easy. All you have to do is glide,” I said.

I thought the rink was going to look the way it does in the movies with couples skating hand in hand, everything peaceful and tranquil. Instead we were greeted with about a hundred New Yorkers screaming and skating like maniacs. This wasn’t Disney on Ice. It was 125th street.

I stepped on the ice with trepidation. I hadn’t skated in about 5 years and if ice skating were like riding a bike then those of you who have seen me bike will believe me when I say that I had the gracefulness of an elephant.

All the skaters were making me nervous. If you’ve never skated before I suggest that you avoid the skating rink in Central Park. You are forced to skate as defensively as a cab driver navigating Manhattan at rush hour. I had to dodge groups of 13 year old girls linking arms and then falling over like dominoes, girls in baby phat jackets and gold hoop earring skating in the opposite direction, members of the Asian mafia pushing around the crowd to find the punk who knocked over their friend. I suddenly turned into Andrew Dice Clay on the ice. “Get the F#%^&!! outta my way you F&$%#2! piece of S*!%!!!!” I apologize to all the little kids who were skating that day. I didn’t mean to curse at you. But you really shouldn’t have cut me like that.

Richard coaxed me to stop acting like an old lady and skate faster and kept trying to hold my hand so that I wouldn’t fall over. “I don’t need you to hold my hand!” I insisted. So while he was doing laps and I was still trying to get around the rink, he yelled at me and said, “Will you at least look up and enjoy the view?”

I looked up. I was so busy trying not to fall and get run over by a pack of 16 year old boys that I failed to see where I was. I was skating on bright, white ice and surrounded by a canvas of black sky with the twinkling lights of the New York skyline. When I look at New York, I feel like I’m staring at the face of someone I just fell in love with. You’re giddy and excited and feel like you will never, ever get tired of looking at that face.

I finally started to relax. I started to skate offensively instead of defensively. “Outta my way bitches!!!! That means you too, Grandma!!!!!”

I started to skate. Fast. Gliding like I were Apollo Ono. There is nothing more freeing that being out in the open and moving as fast as you can. Who cares if you fall? I was amazed at how the minute I stopped being scared of falling that I could just skate with more tenacity. At one point, Richard came over again and tried to hold my hand. “I’m fine! I don’t need you to hold my hand!”

Then I skated past him. I was alone. I should also mention that the best part of the whole skating experience is the music. All cheesy pop Justin Timberlake and 80s crap that you know you love. At that moment, Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” started blaring and I skated faster and faster and with my hands in the air, I started singing along to the chorus. And not just singing but top of your lungs, chanting, really singing, “MORE THAN A FEELIIIIIIING” And of course I didn’t know the rest of the words so I just kinda went “NA NA NA NA NA WOAAAAAAAAAH MORE THAN A FEELIIIIIING.”

I didn’t care if I was ruining the romantic experience for all the couples or shattering the ear drums of the elderly skaters. For the first time in a really long time I was really happy. I was with my friends. I was in New York. And I was flying on ice. Still looking like an elephant. But flying nonetheless.

See, I told you I don’t need no hand holding.