Where do the ducks go when the pond freezes over?

I might have to order a replica Holden Caufield red hunting hat like John Green has, because a fictional character is single-handedly making my trip to NY awesome. If I'm going to have my own little meltdown then I might as well follow the champion of meltdowns. Minus the stripper. That would just be weird.
Today was really busy. We went down to Battery Park and took the ferry over to the Statue of Liberty. It's an incredible piece of artwork. The most famous pieces of art are always so overused that they lose their meaning, but not this statue. She's gorgeous; not in the literal sense because she sort of looks like a drag queen from a certain angle, but anyone who sees this thing can't ignore it. This has meaning. This is powerful. This is the New Colossus, and my favorite part of her is that she's stepping out into the ocean like some sort of crusader for the truth, and the most powerful city in the world follows. It's a universal piece, but there is still so much depth that every person who looks at her sees something different, finds another meaning. That was mine. Her face looks determined--not quite angry, not quite fierce, but completely fixed on her purpose, and she's walking forward and holding that torch out like she's going to be conquering everything that keeps people from seeing themselves as they are, and she's not going to do it gently. Champion of the Truth. I like that.

I took a 30 minute power-nap on Ellis Island. We went by the WTC and I was reminded of how powerful a nation can be. The strength lies in the individuals; it's amazing. When separate people together experience the same thing, the same recurring emotion, the same reaction, they become more than themselves. I remembered something about myself too--I don't get sad, or desperate, or hopeless. When I witness something that goes against our common humanity, I get brilliantly, incandescently angry. I'll be able to use that someday.

The nights here in Times Square are just...waste. There is so much energy when the sun goes down but all of it is disturbingly empty. Something that seems enchanting at first is just sickening papier mache and wires beneath. Central Park is going to fill up my tomorrow, though. If you look inside a tree, it's just a tree, and that's why they're so beautiful.

L