Yellow kind of day

I've been having the most wonderful Thursday evening yoga classes. I'll admit that at first I thought Johanna was a little too "spiritual" for me, but when she started her summer chakra series, focusing on a different energy center each week, something clicked. My practice in my other two weekly classes has benefited as well, and I'm joyfully surprised to feel progress in my asanas.

(That's what she said.)

Tonight we focused on manipura, the solar plexus chakra. Here is where we feel the unease as a simple gut reaction becomes a complex emotion; here is where we digest what we've taken in, whether it's food to nourish us or ideas to, well, nourish us.

The sacred color of manipura is yellow. It was a yellow kind of day.

I ask myself that same question every day

Defaced Showtime poster, 86th Street Station, E/B line downtown

It's also a song, with a video.

PdP Summer Concert Series, Pt.5: Bon Iver

It's hard to put into words how wonderful this concert was. The Bowerbirds (the three on the right above, joining in to close the show) sing lovely strange melodies. One song, Chimes, merits further investigation; its lyrics seemed like the kind of poem that would make a lovely broadside or small book.

Bon Iver was surprisingly rocking for a project that emerged out of one man's attempt to write through a break-up alone in a cabin in Wisconsin. In the winter. The absolute joy of the crowd might have been part of the magic of the evening, but it was equally the energy and polish of the very young musicians. (See that blonde guy? He looked about twelve.)

And my buoyant mood was in no way dampened by the fact that this was my view through most of the evening.

Catch of the day

I remember coveting one of these jointed fish pendants as a child. Whose was it? Maybe my teacher, Mrs. Zeller? I think I eventually got one, that my day brought be a keychain version from Indonesia during college.

These are in the window of a semi-precious bead wholesaler on Broadway, which I pass often on my way to or from the work/study gig.

PdP Summer Concert Series, Pt.4 (sort of): Spiritualized

M. Panique attended this event by his lonesome because I crashed after a morning of brunching and an afternoon of museuming. This image is a rainbow of LED lights refracting through ridged plastic on the roof of a model home at MoMA.

Teamwork

Not that I ever have doubts about the strength of my marriage, but it sure is nice when John and I work together as smoothly as we did today. We divided up the household chores, split the outside errands and collaborated to plan an evening out with our friends Nikki and Clint, visiting from Austin. A good time was had by all, as they say, and we came home not-too-late to a sparkling clean apartment. Nice.

Clicking

Just one of those days when things click into place, at least temporally. Subways arrived promptly to whisk me around town; lines at counters dissolved as I approached. Many small errands accomplished, no giant leap for Bee-kind.

On track

86th Street Station, E/B line downtown

Things continue to chug along. In spite of the trip to Austin, I ate well and have been seeing progress. My dosage ticked up a week ago and I think it's starting to have the desired effect. Also, it makes me want to hurl when I take it, but only for a few minutes, so I'll stick with it.

I saw a career counselor today. Interesting. I'm still digesting this; more later.

Overheard at work/study gig

"Does fruit come from US Trust? Because it's literary?"

PdP Summer Concert Series, Pt.3: Jarvis Cocker

After we got home from Austin this evening, we ate a quick dinner and then hurried around the corner to Terminal 5.

To see Jarvis Cocker.

And did we ever.

Best friends

My husband and his best friend, simulating fellatio during the pub quiz at Fadó.

"WOW"

This random family are owners of the champion steer featured above.

We learned during the memorial service today that this billboard at the city limits, touting Karnes City's many attractions, was Harriet's idea. She was active in the Karnes City Home & Garden Club (president from 1998-2002) and apparently had a lot of ideas about how to beautify the town. I wish I'd had the chance to know her better.

The mood of the day was fairly light, and Harriet's life was celebrated more than her passing was mourned. And really, how can you be too down when you know there are trucknuts in the parking lot of the greasy spoon where you go for the pre-funeral lunch?

Why I love Austin

Enormous water and iced tea glasses. Just to give you a sense of scale, every time the waiter refilled John's tea, it half-emptied the pitcher. And you get unlimited refills for $1.75. Suck that, NYC.

This is at Polvo's, which we love. The dark salsa is made from smoked peppers, and I could eat it like gazpacho. And I have.

It was in the mid-nineties, but we ate outside anyway. Because it was a dry heat.

Packing

Gemma is nestled between the shoe pockets (containing my Nikes) of my carry-on. Silly cat.

Good-bye, Harriet

John's grandmother passed away today, so we'll be making a quick trip to Austin.

Meet my shoes

If you remember how, um, desperate I was a few months ago, you'll be surprised to learn that I am now in a fairly comfortable relationship with two pairs of shoes. No one is more surprised than me.



The tan shoes are from Softspots, purchased at Zappos. They just looked promising, and they turned out to be just the right height and width for me. I'm considering getting them in another color, maybe "wine"?

The yellow shoes are from Kenneth Cole Reaction. I randomly saw them on jjill and they haunted me until I ordered them, also from Zappos. I love them so much that I just bought them in two more colors: luggage (a rich mid-brown) and black (very mod-looking). The "lemon" pair rubbed me a little wrong for two or three wearings, but broke in nicely; I wore the luggage ones today for the first time with no problems.

Love!

Waiting

Northwest corner of Union Square West & East 17th

Just a pretty shot of light on a building as I waited for a segment on WNYC to finish before I got on the subway home. I tagged along to Long Beach to event for the summer associates at John's firm, and I got a lobster for my effort. And key lime pie.

Yum.

Disaster strikes

OUR.

MICROWAVE.

IS.

BROKEN.

Queasy for half a second. Feel like yawning but am not yawning. No headache! Unstable digestion!

Laundry accomplished

Other things were accomplished today, as well.

I found the perfect dress for an event next week, only to have John tell me I'll be overdressed and should wear something I already have. Boo.

I'm keeping it anyway, and maybe someday (still "on program"! whoot!) you'll see a picture here of me wearing it.

Minimal queasiness, still yawning, HEAD ACHES.

Rainbow bright

This close-up of cotton candy is the perfect image to capture the glorious afternoon we spent at Coney Island today. I can't thank Eileen enough for cooking us such a fantastic brunch and making all the arrangements for the ballgame. Though she denied it, I think she also had a hand in the weather, which could not have been better. I was prepared to whine about my sweatiness all day long, but we stepped out into the Brooklyn air to a cool salty breeze.

Sadly, things were not so sweet for the Cyclones. When we saw them last year, they mopped the field with their opponents. This year, it was



one batter,



two batters,



three batters, and they were out, shut out (1-0) by the State College Spikes.

Still a little queasy, less yawn-y, powerful headache.

Women and Madness

Tonight, John and I saw Alan Cumming in the National Theater of Scotland's production of The Bacchae, part of the Lincoln Center Festival for this summer.

Wowza.

From the moment Cumming entered, upside down, suspended from the ceiling by ropes buckled to his ankles, with his bare ass exposed to the audience, to the moment the stage burst into flames, this was one amazing show.

Being a respecter of copyrights, I can't post a photo here, but you should look for images, because it was fab.

Still queasy and yawn-y, and a little headache-y.

The Black Flag

Some numbskull on the floor above us draped a crusty black shower curtain out a window. I cannnot state this in strong enough terms: THIS IS NOT THAT KIND OF BUILDING.

In other news, I took the pharmaceutical plunge today and started an anti-depressant. Which is not to say I've been feeling awful lately. I'm just worn out from having to work so hard to keep my head above water for the past, oh, decade or so. So far, I've been slightly queasy and yawning a lot, but that could be related to changing my eating and sleeping habits this week. My GP very directly explained that the side effects will come first, maybe immediately, but will most likely taper off. The benefits, on the other hand, won't kick in for three to six weeks. This is good to know, and I'm confident that this will go well.

I managed to avoid a donut incident at the work/study gig this afternoon, so this is day four of "on program" eating. With any luck, six weeks will find me happier and healthier!

(And skinnier! Dammit, I want to be skinnier!)

Out of season

Sermoneta Gloves on the SE corner of Madison and 58th.

It hurts my head a little to think of weather that would be appropriate for these, but check out the black and white polka-dotted gloves in the back.

Love!

I wish I could say it won't happen again

I usually wear capri pants to yoga, but it was so nasty out today (and I was so unsure about what it would be like inside the studio) that I opted for some comfy shorts I usually wear for pjs.

No one ran screaming in horror during my seven-minute walk to Sonic. Nobody stared. I never got a second look.

What is wrong with people that no one told me how horrifying my thighs have become? What good is living in a city full of buttinskis if no one will tell you your cellulite is showing?

In the mirror at home, things look eh. From downward facing dog, things look EEEEEEK!

Good thing I'm getting back "on program" this week. And, apparently, will need to stay there for the rest of my life.

Sweet and dusty

This little dustbunny is Lizzie, the 24-year-old shop cat at my work/study gig. It's a tiny miracle to me every time I arrive to find her still pacing stiffly around and yowling like a crazy old lady. She seemed particularly wobbly today, and I think everyone is pretty worried about her. When I found myself boxed into the same corner of the office with her, as a display case was dismantled by the front desk, I took the opportunity to snap a portrait.

Getting horsey

In spite of my poisonous mood today, we thoroughly enjoyed the Horse exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History. But they won't let you take any pictures. Go see it for yourself.

Checking out

It was lovely. It really was like getting away, and at the same time we got an entirely new perspective on the city.

I have to plug two great movies we watched while here, on opposite ends of the taste spectrum.

While everyone else was out watching fireworks in the humidity, we were having burgers and shakes at burger joint. Then we went upstairs and watched National Treasure II: Book of Secrets. I have to say, I liked it better than the new Indiana Jones. The character development was nil, and Nick Cage looked weird, but the action was extremely entertaining. Thumbs up!

After an early breakfast at Norma's this morning, we headed back up for another movie. If suspense is your thing (and I mean really your thing), then you should see Sunshine. If we had watched this last night, I wouldn't have been able to sleep. Scary and sad, but beautifully directed and acted. You can't say I didn't warn you.

Checking in

You will have to excuse me, but we have a little work to do today before we go check in to Le Parker Meridien for a mini-break. A quasi-staycation if you will. There's a pool, and I intend to be a prune by this time tomorrow.

The Big Spud

No ankle rag ambivalence this time; this is definitely one of the things I love about New York City. I'm just minding my own business, walking up Hudson after buying the smaller feathers bag (on humongous sale: go, go, go!) and I pass a potato relaxing in the shade of a little sidewalk tree.

Chillaxing, if you will.

Ready for a vacation

I forgot how exhausting it is to go to work every day, even if you don't have to be there until 11am, and even if you could theoretically walk away at any moment. I think it's the socializing that's the most draining: the constant chatter of co-workers or students, the strangers who pop up at the front desk or call with ridiculous questions, the office politics that gets lobbed back and forth over my head. I haven't felt like exercise or yoga, though I did both yesterday. I got home tonight, started the laundry and dove into my current read. And kept reading. John got home about 8:30pm and we hardly talked at all, which was fine. I stayed up late to finish my book, and went to sleep dreaming of Persian carpets.

Something old, something new

I thought these wooden water tanks were a thing of the past, but I watched one being built on Dirty Jobs the other day. There are thousands in New York City, and the majority are lovingly tended by the guys at Rosenwach Tank Co.

I see these two as I leave my work/study gig.