Risking Life and Limb

My friend Deborah called Friday night and said "Hey, let's go hiking tomorrow!" What a great idea! I like to hike and I was itching to get out of town and do something like that. We headed for Palisades Interstate Park, which runs along the Hudson River from New Jersey into New York. The thing about the topography there is that there is a path along the shore and then there is an enormous cliff -- really enormous -- and then more paths along the tops. She says, let's do the shore trail to the Giant Stairs, then we'll climb the cliff path and come back along the top.

The warning sign said "Difficult scramble over large boulders followed by a steep ascent." Hmmm. Well, okay, I'm game. See those rocks up there? More than a mile of this terrain, and it's a lot more difficult than it looks. Plus there's the ever-present danger of serious damage to all sorts of body parts if you miss your footing. And it's really hard work! And then, after this grueling ordeal, we still have to climb a very steep and not too user-friendly path up the cliff.

Obviously I made it back in one piece, more or less. But I am sore all over. And I have scrapes on both arms from when I fell off the tree branch. I think it must have looked hysterically funny. I laughed and I didn't even see myself. The reward was a Frozfuit bar from the snack bar at the top. Then it's back the 3 or so miles to where we parked the car. At least the upper paths were relatively flat and clear. It was about 7 hours in all. But there were more than a few moments when I thought, this is it, they're gonna have to medivac me out of here.

Oh, and did I mention the poison ivy?

Good god, just how much authenic/genuine Cialis/Viagra can one girl use?

Is it just me or has the amount of E.D.-related spam increased geometrically recently? On my Mac at home, I used to get none/zero/zip spam. Now a few manage to sneak through. But when I check my e-mail on my PC at work tomorrow, I can guarantee you there will be at least 175 spam messages, 99% of which will be imploring me to stock up on Cialis and Viagra. Personally I'd like to think that I myself am sufficient to produce the desired result, so I take it as a little bit of an insult to start with. Okay, not everyone is as thin-skinned as I am. But honestly! What do they think I'm doing? Do they think I'm throwing orgies every night? Actually...that might not be such a bad idea. But regardless! I wasn't born yesterday. I am an informed consumer. I refuse to fall for all of these so-called "deals." Maybe just one or two, though. After all, it doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?

And aren't we all just a little relieved about this!

So I just read in the paper that the toilet on the space station is working again. Whew! I mean, it's bad enough when you're stuck in the car or on a bus and you have to hold it. Imagine being stuck on the space station! It's not like you can zip out to the nearest Starbucks or anything. Of all the pieces of equipment to keep in working order, I'd say this is one of the most crucial.

Who feels like it's summer?

Okay, let's see a show of hands -- who now feels it's officially summer? Who barbecued and sunbathed and celebrated this official unofficial start of the season? If I interpreted the weather map correctly (and I'd like to think I did), it looks like pretty much everybody had a GORGEOUS weekend. And don't we deserve it? Yes, we do. We in the Northeast/Middle Atlantic states, and probably others, have suffered through what I think I'm confident in calling a MISERABLE, SUCKY SPRING. But this weekend, my friends, was a gem. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling pretty good right now. And that has nothing to do with anything I may or may not have consumed. It has to do with sunshine and beautiful clear skies. It has to do with the intoxicating aroma of the masses of lilacs (late) and roses (early) I encountered in my stroll through the Botanic Gardens yesterday. It has to do with how much I sweated while I was running in the park today. Yeah, it would have been fun to go to the beach, but I think everybody else was there. So I was happy to stay put and plant my flower boxes.

MOVIE REVIEW
I saw a really great movie this weekend - Son of Rambow. Really cute, really funny. It's about two British boys, about 10 or 12, who decide to shoot their own action movie using one boy's video camera. It was written and directed by the guy who did Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. After you've maxed out on Indy and Ironman and Speed Racer, Son of Rambow is the perfect antidote.

Still noshing on party leftovers

I'm tellin' ya, there's nothing like leftover party food. It's like getting a present every day, coming home after work and being able to raid the fridge for dinner, not having to think about cooking. What's the matter, you don't consider hummus, sliced genoa salami, olives, fruit salad and slightly stale brownies a balanced meal? What's wrong with you?

The party was a rousing success even though only about half the number of inviteds showed up. I knew about half a dozen were maybes. Those were the ones who had to work or had other engagements earlier and said they'd try and make it later. They all flaked (although one called me the next day and invited me over for dinner). There were a couple of out-of-towns and a few MIAs. But no matter, a good time was had by all. I was even coaxed into juggling a little, but I discovered (no surprise) that it's not something to do when you've been drinking.

I tried out a couple of new snackie-things. I always like to try out new recipes on visitors. A few people brought goodies. The most extravagant was the cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery. This is a place that, all you have to do is walk by the door and you gain five pounds from the aroma. I think they keep the butter and sugar manufacturers in business. The frosting on those babies is lethally good! I could only tolerate a fingerful at a time, seriously. It's so intense. The champagne went and so did most of the wine. I helped.

It's always fun to see how your various friends will get along with one another. Happily there were no fistfights. In fact there was lots of laughing. So everyone seemed to find somebody to talk to besides the person they came with. I had a good time too. Final verdict: definite success.

It only took me a year

I am coming up on my one-year anniversary of being in my apartment. Times flies, don't it? So I thought to mark the occasion, I would have a party. I didn't get around to having a housewarming last year, so I'm doing it now. I invited just about everyone I know in New York. I figure, maybe half of them will show up.

This whole party thing got me started on a closet cleaning and organizing binge. I had forgotten that when I moved in, I just shoved some cartons in the spare closet with the thought of getting to them "soon." Well, "soon" came and went a long time ago and I kind of forgot about them. So today I burrowed in there and yanked one of them out. It was full of books! I had actually been looking for a couple of them and couldn't figure out where they went. Duh. I'm really happy to have them back, even thought technically they were never missing. Now I'm wondering what's in the other three cartons. They're going to be a pain to get out because they in a corner behind a dresser which I shoved into the closet. There's gotta be some other good stuff that I have totally forgotten about. So I'm looking forward to cleaning out the rest of the stuff. Probably not before the party though.

Update on my steampunk post

Q: When is a hip, new trend no longer new?
A. When the mainstream gets a hold of it.

It was but a few mere days ago that I mentioned steampunk, which I had just found out about last month. Well guess what -- today steampunk is plastered all over the front page of the New York Times style section. Does that make me a trend spotter? Rather the opposite. The fact that I only clued into it shortly before the Newspaper Of Record means I'm only inches away from So Last Year. it's almost laughable.

Just cause We All now know about it doesn't mean we'll all be hopping on the steam-powered bandwagon, however. Real steampunkers are hard-core folks. They're very into handcrafting their eccentric Victorian wardrobes and gadgets. The rest of us can now admire knowingly from a distance, but I don't think they're in danger of being overrun by new recruits. Looks like fun, though.

I wonder if I spend too much time inside my head

I blew off a cocktail party this evening in favor of coming home to my apartment and being by myself. First of all, it's important to explain that this was a work-related party. Tonight was our gala, our major fund-raising event of the year. Staff are not invited to the meal and all that, but we are allowed to come to the cocktail reception beforehand. Well, I hate my job (as has been well-documented here), so why would I want to extend that into my own time? To me it also feels very condescending, like allowing the servants upstairs into the master's house on Christmas Day or something. And I was not alone in this; everyone who had not been roped into working the event took off as soon as they could. But it made me wonder, once I got home, if I spend too much time alone inside my head. I have a very rich and enormous inner life, as I think everyone who hangs out in the cyberplaces I do has. (Bad syntax there, but fuck it.) Still, is it a healthy thing to prefer the vast inner spaces of your head to the company of the jerks in the living world around you? I kind of loaded that question, didn't I? But you get the idea. I don't have an answer to this. I'm arguing it out with myself. And guess what, both sides are winning. But the thing is, I love live human company -- the right company, anyway. I thrive on conversation and shared jokes and all that stuff that sociologists say is typical of humans. But I'm also perfectly happy to wander off into the wilds of my mind. It occurred to me only recently that maybe not everyone has as much going on inside their heads. Maybe they've just got a few little sparsely furnished rooms instead of a whole universe. Maybe they don't really care about going exploring in there. Or maybe I'm just really weird. Either way, I'm really happy I didn't have to go to the stupid party this evening.

I told a joke in Italian today

For the better part of two years I have been studying Italian. No reason other than I think it's a very sexy language (second only to Brazilian Portuguese) and it's good to be able to speak more than one language. Plus, Italy is a fabulous place. I took French and Spanish in high school and college but I haven't used them since then. The first thing I noticed is that it's a lot harder now to learn a new language than it was when I was a teenager. It's very frustrating sometimes and my brain feels like a sieve. All this information gets poured in the top and then promptly runs out the bottom. Those wacky Italians have way more pronouns than anyone in their right mind needs. Even they'll admit as much. And some words change spelling just because it sounds better. I mean, how Italian is that!

But little by little, it seems to be sticking. So this evening in my class I said I heard a joke and I wanted to try and tell it in Italian. There's no doubt my delivery was way funnier than the joke itself. But somehow I lurched through it and made it to the punch line. And people laughed! I managed to make it intelligible enough that they got it. I'm very proud of myself right now. Okay, maybe just a little proud.

Steampunk? WHAT????

Ever and always behind the curve, I am now in the process of adding steampunk to my vocabulary and making room for it in my mental archive of weird, cool new pop culture stuff. Does anybody else know about this? A strangely mutated love child of Victorian style and sci-fi, with a dash of, well, punk thrown in. Who'd'a thought?

Gotta love the 'puter. Not sure about the keyboard, though. I'll never give up my mahvelous mac keyboard for nuthin'. But the idea of hand crafting gadgets and widgets, not to mention computers, out of brass and real hardware is really neat. This is not a subculture for just any geek -- you have to have actual manual skills to gain cred as a steampunker. Me, I got more than enough on my plate right now, and anyway this kind of workbench DIY doesn't interest me. But it sure looks great. Oh, apparently we should be on the lookout for a resurgence of top hats and other items of Victorian type clothing.

On hiatus for a week or two

...or at least until I can get out from under work overload and collect the bits of my brain that seem to have scattered everywhere but in my head.

Looking mortality in the face...or at least in its general direction

My mom, as they all do eventually, has been getting older and declining in some ways. At first it was slow and gradual but lately it's speeded up. She had a mini-stroke last week and maybe another one this week. She recovered quickly; apparently that's what usually happens. But it's affected her balance, which wasn't great anyway. And she has moments of confusion. She's doing a short stint in rehab but after that she's not going to be able to live alone in her apartment any more. My brother has found a place for her and wonder of wonders, she actually likes it, which is weird because she complains about pretty much everything.

At any rate, I've been thinking a lot about mortality lately. I know, join the club. I'm actually fine with dying -- my dying, anyway. That doesn't scare me at all. It's the falling apart that can precede it. If it were my cat that was declining, I wouldn't have a second thought. I would want to spare it the illness and discomfort. Unfortunately that's not an option when it comes to people. I hope by the time I get to that point, I'll be able to say "okay, I'm done" and someone will put me to sleep.

The other aspect of this situation is that my mother is, well, kind of a moron. My brother says she's always been one. I think that getting older has brought out this quality (or anti-quality) in her. But she's always been very emotionally needy, and never satisfied whatever is done for her. Of course we'll continue to take care of her regardless. But if she had, over the years, managed to build up some reservoir of good will, I'd do it much more willingly. I suppose that if I actually enjoyed spending time with my mother, I'd feel differently, but now it's just a chore.

But back to the whole mortality thing. After I die, what I'd really like is for my ashes to be sent into space and released there. I think it would be only appropriate. Not that I'll know. But I'd like it a lot.

Today I lied like a rug

Okay, so it doesn't really work in the past tense. But syntax aside, I committed an enormous act of prevarication. I really don't like lying. Making shit up is a different story, but flat-out lying, I really don't like it so much. However, I did it so as not to hurt someone's feelings. And possibly to prevent me from losing my job. Which wouldn't really be such a bad thing. In fact I will rejoice the day I am free of that dump. But I digress.

My department head, the person I report to, was a casual friend who recruited me for this position. Had I known what a lunatic she is to work for, or what a hornet's nest I was getting into, I would have declined. But I said yes. Here is what's wrong with her. She could be a poster child for ADD. She lacks class. She's not really all that bright. She's chock full of nervous energy and constantly distracts everyone from what they're doing. She loves to blame other people. She's territorial and a control freak. On the positive, she's generally very cheerful -- overly cheerful, in fact. And she is extremely supportive and protective of the people in her department. She will go to bat for any one of her people at any time. She's not a malicious person and generally she means well. But...all of that said, none of us can stand working for her.

So what was the lie? It seems that somehow the information got leaked to the Museum Director that the people in my department don't like our boss and think she's incompetent. The director, being the hurful brat that she can be, told this to my boss. Today my boss told me this and asked me plaintively if that were true.

I tried as many ways as I could to imply denial without actually saying it but she persisted. So, with no options left, I sucked it up and lied. I told her no, it was absolutely not true! Who would say such a thing? I mean I do feel bad for her, especially today I did. And I don't want to be the one to tell her that she's clueless and everyone wishes she were gone. So I lied. Boldly and loudly and with authority.

Why it's not a good idea to post while drunk

It should be fairly obvious, given a few minutes of reflection, but I thought it was worth mentioning anyway. My observation has been that posting -- or attempting to post -- while more than superficially under the influence of alcohol, is probably not a good idea. Sad to say, the same drunken delusions of brilliance that inspire us to blather like idiots at parties can extend to the written word as well. Trust me, I've seen it in action. I won't embarrass the writer by identifying him but let me tell you, it's a cautionary tale if ever there was one. Thank god for the edit function!

Oh, the temptation to spill your guts in an atmosphere of presumed bloggy intimacy! Your blog brothers and sisters, ever sympathetic, non-judgmental, always there to lend a friendly ear. Unless of course you feel inclined to share your innermost thoughts about EVERYTHING...including why you hate poodles, and why you think your ex-girlfriend just might be an alien, or at least a closet Republican.The cold hard truth is, nobody really wants to know this shit. And certainly not when it's expounded in hysterical sentence fragments and inane attempts at philosophical irony.

I, thankfully, self-censor myself in such situations. Ernest Hemingway be damned -- I know I can't write when I'm drunk! So, if I'm alone, I content myself with wandering around my apartment and yammering at the walls. Or I spew it all into a Word document which I promptly delete. It's a practice I highly endorse. You guys should thank me for it.

I'm a happy camper

For the past three weeks, I have been holed up with four actors and a director who were slogging their way through my play. Now that it's finished, I can say sincerely that I am very happy with the whole process. It was pretty much what I was expecting, plus more. I knew that I had reach a point where I knew it needed more work but I wouldn't know what was needed until the play spent some time up on its feet.

It's really kind of like alchemy when you give the pages to live actors and let them work with the piece. Suddenly they're finding things that I never knew were there. Relationships are developing between characters in ways I couldn't have imagined. Of course that means that I have to change stuff, but that's okay. That's exactly what I needed to find out. And they find humor in places I didn't know were funny. But they are! And I love it. I was very good and kept my mouth shut most of the time. (I had to be careful and not stray into the director's turf. It is definitely NOT my job to tell the actors what to do.) But I was happy to sit back and follow along and see what they came up with. When stuff was redundant or like that, we'd discuss it and then I'd scribble and scratch and cross out. Almost every page has marks on it. That's a good thing.

One of the things I really love about theatre is that it's a group effort. Everybody really brings something to the process -- or should, anyway. The writer invests his or her energy and imagination, then the actors get it and make it come alive, literally. And the really cool part is that you never know how that's going to happen. It just takes on a life of its own. Wahoo! I'm a happy camper.

Now of course I have another rewrite to do. But it's gonna be a piece of cake.

For when you just can't find the right words...

Ever been in that situation where you just can't quite express your thoughts clearly? Maybe this will help

Idiom Shortage Leaves Nation All Sewed Up In Horse Pies

WASHINGTON—Authorities expect the shortage to subside by April, but until then, urge citizens to skip shy the rickshaw until the flypaper marigolds can waterfall.

What we put our pets through

Could it be? Yes, it's...the...Easter Kitty! This seasonal bit of catblogging was borrowed from a best-of-craigslist posting, offering a carton of used cat hats for free. Here's the link: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sdo/566171148.html. It's definitely worth a look.

I once tried to put a set of reindeer antlers on my old cat Duke. He let me know in no uncertain terms that he was not interested in decorative headwear, and that was the end of the matter. While these pix are cute, to me there's this look of quiet desperation in the cat's eyes that seems to say, "I can't take this humiliation much longer." I can understand an occasional effort to adorn one's cat for laughs -- I mean they do invite ridicule from time to time. But 14 adorable hats??? When people start treating their pets like babies, it really gives me the creeps.

Oohhh am I mad!!!

I got a phone call from Melanie at Geico Insurance telling me that the BIG, FAT STUPIDHEAD JERK truckdriver who took out the whole side of my car back in December is claiming that I hit him and his insurance company is denying liability! Not only am I really angry, I am dumbfounded. How he could even claim that is ridiculous. It would have been physically impossible for me to cause the damage done to my car if I had hit him. I would have to have come from behind him, run my car into the side of his 18-wheeler and then continued to drive for another 10 or 15 feet after first making impact. I'm serious when I say that the driver's side of my car looked like someone came along with a giant can opener and ran it along the side, back to front. In fact, I would have to have driven ahead of him, then backed up for 10 feet, sideswiping him the whole time. Yup, there's me in my Hyundai Elantra, about to take on a tractor trailer.

So Geico is taking it to arbitration. Seems to me all any arbitrator has to do is look at the photos of the damage to realize I couldn't possibly have hit him. I intend to make this guy cry. I intend to make him beg for mercy. And by the way, I have his name and address if anybody wants to harrass him.

A very unsettling thing

Today at work, I needed to find a few facts about a guy who, in addition to being a big contributor to the museum, is also a major NYC real estate developer. So of course the first thing I did was Google him. The first entry was Wikipedia. After that, about 90% of the posts were from the most hateful, vicious anti-Semitic websites. They claimed his collusion in various "Jew Conspiracies" to, essentially, take over the world and profit from everyone else's misery. Now, I'm all in favor of crackpot theories -- they generally do no harm and are often quite entertaining. But this was not that kind of crackpot. We all know in a somewhat abstract way that this kind of hate is out there, but to encounter it face to face was almost like being physically assaulted. I am a fierce supporter of free speech and I understand that that means not only things I agree with but also things I find repellent. I comfort myself with the thought that this is what a mature democratic state is, that people can express their ideas, whatever they are, without worry of being silenced. I just want to keep the people who express those particular ideas as far away from me as possible.

MORE COLOR!!!

It only took me 8 months, but I've finally finished painting my living room. One of the reasons it took so long was because I couldn't find the right color. Well, I finally took the plunge and picked something. Then I had to actually do the painting, which I really don't like (mostly because I'm not very good at it). It took 2 1/2 coats but I eventually got a decent result. Now I have to live with it. It came out darker than I thought it would but it's growing on me. The other half of the room is that goldy orange color I shared here several months ago. I am really loving having intense color on the walls. I used to think it would be very limiting but really, how often do you refurnish your house anyway? This is very cool.

(change of subject)

It seems very trite to say that work has been hell lately, but trite or not, it's true. I had an impossible workload, with 8 (count 'em, 8) proposals due last Friday. Fortunately for me, 2 of them went away for reasons having nothing to do with me. But that still left me with a half dozen major projects with a do-or-die deadline. If it were only up to me, everything would have been done in plenty of time. But the problem is, I needed lots of information and stuff from various other people. And have you ever noticed how Other People don't seem to care as much about your work as you do? Why is that? Keeping in mind that these projects were grant proposals to fund projects at the museum and without the money, stuff doesn't happen. But that still doesn't seem to be enough to motivate people to get their asses in gear. This has been compounded by the fact that my department head, who on her best days could be a poster child for ADHD, seems to have cranked it up a few notches on the wack-o-meter. It's tough because she was a friend of mine before I started working for her. Not a really good friend, but someone I usually had nice thoughts about. Now I want to strangle her more often than not. Of course I'd have to get in line. She seems to have driven everyone in the department crazy. The sad part is, it's hard to really hate her because she means well and she's very supportive and appreciative of everyone in her department. BUT SHE'S DRIVING US ALL FUCKING CRAZY!
In any case, I got everything finished and submitted on time.

(another change of subject)

Now I take a big breath and relax. Now I have some brain juice left for other things, like haning out here. And most importantly, moving my play forward. Very exciting...we're going to be doing auditions in 2 weeks. We're collecting head shots and resumes. Lots of promising women but hardly any guys! What's up with that? Where are they all? Working on ctheokas' film, maybe?