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I remembered yesterday that one of the joys of being a student is Broadway rush tickets. So I rolled out of bed this morning, intending to check on what the theatre did as far as rush tickets, because their policies differ by individual place. I assumed the box office opened at 10 AM, so I got there at 10.15 -- only to discover that the box office actually opened at noon. That also made me third in line if I wanted rush tickets right then, for A Little Night Music. Hmm. Well, okay. I had brought my knitting, so why not...?

Gosh, guys. The music gave me shivers. The play is about the loneliness of unfulfilled love, and wasted choices, all subtly, slightly ironically highlighted by the beauty of some lovely waltz-time music. Waltzes are about being close and easy and rhythmic as possible with your partner, and the whole play is about longing for that closeness, and looking in the wrong places.

The pacing of the play was brilliant, too -- dark, rueful laughter at all the tenser moments, just the way I like it.

It's been ages since I've been to a musical that moved me most of the way to tears like that. And Bernadette Peters? She still has it. As did all of the other stunning voices in that play. Man.
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  • [ profile] adularia introduced me (several months ago) to Google SMS -- you can text "466453" (Google) with address queries, directions, weather, and just about anything else. It's often faster than running an app on a smartphone. (And it's free, unlike 411). In short, it rocks. Also, my friend Jen just about knocked me off my feet in a hug for passing on the tip (as we were hunting for a lunch place).

  • Mediterranean Schwarma, in Greenpoint, which is where Jen and I settled on, has the best baba ghanoush ever. I don't even like eggplant and I think it's incredible stuff.

  • I was singing along with the chorus to Moxy Fruvous' "King of Spain" while I was waiting for the train. It was a relatively deserted platform. Then I heard someone hum along, and I was so startled at not being alone in my own head that I felt my ears turn scarlet (before recovering myself enough to laugh at the fellow in the Falconridge tshirt and sandals). Apparently you're never as alone in the city as you think you are. I like these random moments of connection.

  • Finally, there was a man on the street with a largeish looking handbag. As I walked past him, a fluffy doggy head and paws popped out. The man promptly tried to put the paws of the dog back in. The dog's eyes went wide and it pushed stubbornly back up against the man's hand. The man won, and the auburn fluffiness retreated from view for a while. I stopped walking, turned to see who got the last word, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doggy head stuck out again, his tongue out in a hilariously smug dog grin.
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The toilet started flooding all over the place today, and they needed to order a new part. It wasn't a promising start to the day.

But then Neil came home, and we took a walk, and I got lost in the shifting fields of color in the river and the sky.

Evening water
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Cayenne ([ profile] microhylidae's primary girlfriend) and Neil and I all walked to the diner together after the contradance was over. I paused briefly, and looming above us were the pale branches of a tree, almost white against the navy-deep sky. And it was beautiful. Cayenne stopped and smiled with me, while everyone else walked on. I knew that she saw the same thing, just for that one minute -- the splay of the slender, strong branches, the sense of grace in the world. That was worth it.

I have decided that that is all I want in a friend -- that moment of seeing the same thing and loving the world. Enough with the questions, the chatter, all of us trying to prove something, whatever -- I want that comfort of having someone else really be there with you.
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I am excited because my friend D. let me model for her photo project, and the shots she showed me are awesome. (The last good photo I have of me was taken by [ profile] pinkrhino threefive years ago).

ETA: Here is one:

More )
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I woke up this morning earlier than I usually do, and the early morning light is so beautiful. (And, of course, because life is ironic, I had to rush to Dr. Cohen's office and couldn't turn back to go snag my camera). Then I wandered over to briefly see [ profile] regyt in Brooklyn, and the light on the brownstones there -- long, dappled tree shadows on golden reds and ironwork scrolling -- was equally amazing. Sadly, photography is about carpe diem -- you either get the light or you don't. (Or you buy lots of lightboxes).

So I thought... I know most people have work early in the morning, but if anyone is crazy and wants to get up at the crack of dawn with me to go wandering, I WANT YOUR COMPANY. Please?

(This is all [ profile] regyt's fault -- she has energy that is contagious like chicken pox.)
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I saw [ profile] sunflowereyed today, and she has the coolest purple glasses. Her green eyes sparkle in them, behind the shimmering lenses and fringed by the wisps of elfin hair she currently sports. I wanted a camera. I also saw: a lady with the most awful, eyesearingly pink hat imaginable (it was so awful it was photogenic), [ profile] sunflowereyed's exceedingly enthusiastic puppy's nose, and turquoise salt scattered on the street, making a small, haphazard elf circle on the black pavement.

I wanted to break out the camera, but I've been afraid to take photos because of the amount of investment in Photoshop that I feel I have to do in order to really put up good shots. I have been overrun by perfectionism, the sense that these ordinary things are "not good enough" somehow to love, even though I clearly do love them. So I'm describing it all here for you, but...

[ profile] underwatercolor and other photographers, what would you do?
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(Incidentally, if you ever try to walk to class... which essentially means walking the width of Manhattan... never pick a super hot day where you forget to bring a bottle of water. I thought I'd die at around the middle of Central Park and someone would have to point at me to be like "This is an example of a healthcare fad weeding out one of the idiots.")
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Other women (and Neil) used to talk about the wonders of having someone else wash your hair and how wonderful it was. Me, I never used to see the appeal: hair-washers would squirt water and sometimes shampoo in my face accidentally, they would scratch my scalp too hard, their fingers would tangle in my hair, and I would just grit my teeth and pray the entire thing would be over soon already.

But that all changed yesterday. OMG. She was careful, and asked about pressure. The water temperature was just right (instead of the usual too-warm-for-Kim temp), so I floated in a warm haze while she massaged my temples. Even the hair gentle-tugging-at-roots (which is a form of scalp massage) felt pleasant, although usually I cringe at that. It felt like there was more light and circulation in my head than there ever was. I walked around hazily happy, even though it rained and rained gloomily outside. I am a total convert, and now I understand why there all those stereotypes about women falling in love with their hairdressers. It is a sensual thing that is not-unlike a nice massage. Golly, the difference some care makes. Meanwhile, I feel completely... groomed and pretty, which is a very nice feeling to have.
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So because my last post was whingy, lots of positive stuff here!

I had a client call and tell me that I'd fixed her knee and ankle (she had been terrified she wouldn't be able to walk anymore), and she was really happy! Positive feedback is nice. Also, I straightened Neil's toes so that his foot didn't hurt him anymore.

Neil: I feel guilty when I take advantage of you being a massage therapist, but this foot's been really bugging me...
Me: Hah. Yesterday, when I said that I felt guilty over making you help me with physics, you said, "If everyone else in the class had me to help them, don't you think they'd use that extra resource?"
Neil: That's different!
Me: It's not, but anyway, I'm happy to do it.
Neil: Okay.

I finished my lab today a little early, which is unusual, but I prepped the hell out of it yesterday, and I feel really good about the payoff.

Also, my lab partner for Physics thinks my self-mocking commentary is amusing.

Erin, after she accidentally kicked my chair: Whoops, sorry, didn't mean to bump you there.
Me: That's okay -- physics makes me rock back and forth like an autistic gerbil anyway.
Erin: *starts cracking up*
Me: No, really, I mean it. Look at me twitching!

(She didn't seem to realize it actually does make me twitch. Maybe that means I'm hiding it better than I think.)
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Physics today was incredibly frustrating, because we have gone beyond simple stuff like just adding vectors to figuring out tilting our x/y axis in order to solve funky-angled problems, and I'm just poor at that sort of thing. So we came out of lecture, went to recitation (the TA session) and asked the TA, and she said, "It's just Newton's third law" and proceeded to point at a drawing and repeat that it was Newton's third law (without explaining which forces were in action or reiterating what we were looking for). I left the class ready to go punch someone, and the rest of the class looked ready to cry.

I walked towards thus bus and thought, "What will leave me de-stressed and not wanting to punch someone? I know, I'll knit."

I pulled out the second sock I've been working on and worked for another few inches... and discovered that the bottom of the foot, which should be smooth, was ribbed for some reason.

I stared at my sock. It stared at me.

I checked to make sure it was still ribbed. It was.

I have 8 inches of sock to rip out. Recognizing this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I came home, ate a sandwich, and squished my cat so tightly she struggled. Then I punched a pillow. Then I thought about the vector of force from my fist to the pillow and tried to figure out the total force in the system. I got an instant headache.

Maybe something that's not knitting would be a better outlet for my stress.

Contra yay

Dec. 7th, 2008 02:56 pm
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Contradancing last night was wonderful. Neil is away for a conference until Wednesday, which initially had us squabbling and stressed out and me freaking over the fact that my old skirts don't fit ... but movement, laughter, and friendly people are pretty much a cure for anything, and whatever angst I had had evaporated by the end of the night. We went out for a diner and enjoyed conversation with a group of the regular contra dancers afterwards, and they're some of the nicest people, really.

I wish I could go to the contra all the time. And, bonus note, I noticed that I was far less winded at this contra than at the two I'd been to before... I think the aerobic effects of the Wii fit are starting to kick in!
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It is amazing here today: the weather is perfect (60 degrees in the middle of what's been a freezing cold spell), and everyone is happy. At lunch today, I went to my local deli and they were cheering and saying, "Tomorrow will be a better day -- tomorrow there will be a President Obama." (I didn't have the heart to say, "You mean 'President elect' because Bush is still President until the end of the year.")

Then I went to the bookstore, and the girl reminded me to vote, with a huge grin on her face. (Plus we had a gift certificate and the book was 40% off, so I paid 60 cents for it). My neighbor, the photographer, told me that when he went to Starbucks, they asked him if he'd voted yet, and when he said he was planning to in the next hour, they gave him a free coffee.

The lines at the polling booths, everywhere I passed as I walked to work (and I went to work late) were out the door and into the street. And everyone was smiling.

It is a good day to be in a blue state.
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When I woke up this morning I was happy. (The amazing thing is that when you're depressed, it seems so hard to be simply happy, but once you're there, it's effortless; you feel like you can just skate along and life will continue to be kind and good, even when you know that there'll be a dip somewhere farther along the road.)

The weekend in Millerton was filled with foliage turned gold (the trees showing off one last time before they strip to their quieter, colder winter strength), as if the world were filled with light.

Yesterday, we walked up to Bash Bish Falls, where I sprained my ankle twice on treacherously leaf-buried stones, but the noontime sun was bright and warm despite the chill in the air, so we kept walking. The forest was almost completely yellow; no oranges, or startling reds. It was just creamy yellow light. I wanted to stop to take a photo, but then I remembered I'd forgotten my camera, and that disposable cameras always muddy or skew colors, and I didn't want to stop to turn around to buy a camera that would only capture smeary memories, so we climbed more boulders and extra-tall steps around the waterfall instead.

Then we went for tea at Harney & Sons' tasting room, and I was overwhelmed by what my nose covered for me. Lavender is transportive anyway, and when you drink an entire teacup's full of it, you wander around the rest of the bookstore-and-diner-and-Victorian-hotel filled day in a peaceful daze.

We also saw Rudd Pond, where the water was still and perfectly reflective. Water is thoughtful, so I was almost sad for a moment, caught up in feeling lost, but the grass wasn't cold, and Neil's kisses were warm.

Earlier, we wandered to a restaurant called Chives, which has the most laughably bare bones website in history, but the most delicious organic-ingredient food -- I've never had so many subtle flavors come together in a simple corn chowder. Sour-and-sweet-and-salty/hearty - bacon, sour cream, saffron, an exotic pepper. I think we'd go back just for that if we could. Or at least I would.

I wanted to drive along the rolling mountains forever, because it was heated in the car, and the purples and reds were so beautiful.

But in the end, we came home, and snuggled, and I'm so very glad we went away. And when we came back, the cat was snuggly and overjoyed to see us, although she scolded and yowled in her cat-grumbly way.

Yay news

Oct. 31st, 2008 02:18 pm
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Dear Friendslist,

Thanks for the input on languages! I had lots of fun pondering who to converse with. After some consideration, I think I'm going to go with the French, because I've been told that Rosetta Stone software, which is what I'd probably use, is much more flash-card oriented than grammar oriented. (Classroom learning= more fixed schedules and more expensive). That gap is easier to make up in French, though, since I already have the basics of the grammar in French, whereas I don't in either Spanish or German. Also, [ profile] malinalda and [ profile] ojouchan don't think I won't take you up on the offer to speak frenchily at you ;)

Other good news: Neil and I are taking a vacation this weekend. It shall be a much needed daytrip to Millerton, NY, near the Connecticut border. Millerton is home to Harney & Sons tea, which I love incredibly much, and there should be some great food and hopefully pretty leaves around. The town has the same rolling mountains as you can see in Williamstown, and purportedly an excellent bookstore.

We can afford to do this because - in even more good news - Neil's company is semi-solvent again, so he actually got paid a half-paycheck recently. This doesn't make up for the 4.5 that he's behind, but it's a promising start. And he's got the ball really rolling on job applications.

Finally, I've been told that early-anniversary present from Neil to me is going to be a Body Cushion. I am so excited! Not only is that good for certain of my massage clients (I won't use it on Deb's clients, so as not to get them acclimated to something she won't use), but it'll let me sleep without wrenching my shoulder forward. Squee!
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In the world according to Neil, I learned, the just-past-college-or-younger age group is distinctive and relatively easy to spot. This statement provoked some surprise on my part, since I'm absolutely terrible at judging ages and experiential gaps between twenty-somethings, and I didn't think to ponder about the ages of the group of people who went out to the diner with us after the contradance. (They were all under 23).

Okay, sure, there is sometimes an energy gap between our older friends and younger ones, but then again people like [ profile] ppaladdin kick that entire "energy" differential to the curb, so I don't trust it as a good guideline.

Neil claims, though, that in college, when we're more social and less experienced with the grind of a job day-in-and-day-out, we have a more generic sort of flirtiness. The social flirting is more expansive, and people are more clearly not-yet-settled-down.

Waitaminute, I said. What about that whole gaggle of our college friends that were already practically married by their junior year in college?

Still less experience with having to pay the bills and having to worry about practicalities, Neil said. Even if they have part time jobs, they are still leaning on parents financially, and it shows. Some of the prioritization of social life versus what you can do to pay the bills shows. Unless you're in academia, and then you live on a whole different planet anyway.

Hmm. I guess that's probably true, but not something I spot so easily in a social situation. And I sort of wish I could regain the mentality Neil's talking about again.
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So I ordered a kimono on ebay, from a slightly sketchy seller in China. I hope it gets here in time for Halloween and fits, because I adore silk and I can't think of any other time when it would actually be apropos to wear.

... Well, other than perhaps as a kinky prop.

What're you doing for Halloween?
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There must be a word for the way it feels when things are so peaceful and complex and your mind is untroubled that it feels like floating.

Neil and I have had two weekends like that now -- last weekend, we went up apple picking. We rented a car, drove a quiet way amongst the trees and mountains, made a quick apple picking run, and discovered a diner nearby that served homemade everything. The vegetables in the soup were fresh. The bread was a steaming, hearty loaf. And then we went to Roosevelt Park, and rented a peddleboat. I was tired by then; we'd done some hiking around.

But we had the park all to ourselves. No one else bothered us on the lake. We pedddled to the middle and absorbed the way the sun shifted on the lake, the colors of the lake reflection under shifting clouds, and every kiss was like that feeling you get when you get a spicy breath of tea.

This weekend, we saw Curtains (David Hyde Pierce was amazing), as part of a wedding present from one of Neil's relatives. And we lazed, watched Buffy, and, after seeing the movie Darjeeling Limited, came out to one of those unique New York surprises: a trio of classical musicians playing some of the most complicated, beautiful building-on-itself music I've heard in a while, out busking on the street. The cellist was 6, and she made me briefly envious; I was never half so talented at anything at age 6, and I'd only just found massage at age 26.

But still; I felt at peace. I start the new job probably either tomorrow or Wednesday; New York State finally processed my permit. My new macro lens (60 mm rather than something with more telephoto) arrived, and if I've time, I plan to go shoot some tree bark or leaves with it. I'm happy.
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Yowzers. So... the wedding ring is a little large on my finger. It slides off when I wash my hands. The thing is, as a massage therapist, I'm unlikely to wear it on my hand anyway -- but I thought I'd stop by the local jeweler's to see about resizing it. They wanted $39. That sounds ridiculously high to me, given that my friend Jen, who recently had hers resized up, paid $10. But there's a difference in real estate costs between the Upper West Side (ritzier) and where she lives in Brooklyn, and I'm guessing that difference just came out to bite me. Sheesh.

In other news, I think I may have decided to go hardcore in KoL, which would cut my turns per day down to a fraction of where they are now, and, for better or for worse, thus make jobhunting a bit more focused...


Aug. 17th, 2007 05:55 pm
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Neil and I are thinking about Chicago as a post-ceremony spot. Omigosh, I CANNOT WAIT for good deep dish pizza. Drool. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but I never saw any reason that shouldn't be true for women too.

In other news, a [ profile] wenchamuffin was here! I always forget how warm/straightforward/nifty she is. Next time I'm in Philadelphia...


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