Right Moon?

Pshaw

American Idol. It's bad enough that I watch this show religiously. It's bad enough that Carmen stayed on the show for so long even though the girl's vibrato is fast/wide enough to cause spontaneous combustion. It's bad enough that people vote for that Marine-Guy as some sort of armchair patriotism act even though he has neither talent nor style. It's bad enough that when these people sing as a group, it's more mediocre than elevator muzak, and makes any high school show choir sound like seasoned professionals. But come on. There was something seriously wrong with tonight's "bottom two".

And! No one should be allowed to cover Captain & Tennille songs. Don't mess with perfection.

Crash and burn

Tonight was the dress rehearsal for the opera. The rehearsal went in opposite order of performance date, and we started with the May 10 cast, then worked our way through the May 3 group. The bigger [small] role for me is the Third Norn, which I'm singing this week. I've prepped that one the most and really spent time working out different nuances. On the 10th I'm singing Gutrune, which I've been nailing in practice and honestly haven't done as much work on...pretty straightforward and not too difficult. [It should be clear at this point where this is going, and it's not pretty.] As I was waiting for my role to come up, I started getting nervous, which is unusual for me. That nasty migraine started pounding on my left temple, and the room around me seemed suddenly cavernous and blurry. Why was I so nervous? I don't know, but I could feel it manifesting all through my body. My head, my breathing, my mind... "Come on, Casey! This never happens to you. Get over it." ...my inner dialogue could not avert the train wreck. When I got up to sing, it was as if I had never heard the music before in my life. I couldn't find the notes, the rhythm, the words. On a normal day I can sight-read better than that! Finally I just started marking (kind of half-singing) the role, and told the conductor we'll just need to work on it later this week. He was patient and kind (although surely a bit concerned at the fact that I had clearly been invaded by body-snatchers), but I felt pretty crummy.

Next we started up with the May 3 Norns, and I did fine, although still kind of marking, somewhat disoriented and with a bruised ego. This kind of crash has never happened to me before. I pride myself in being prepared...the girl who shows up at rehearsals fully prepared and ready to work. And yet I can't take tonight's rehearsal back. It's out there. Everyone witnessed it and it's surely of little use to beat myself up.

What happened, though? I was prepared! I know the music! But I was not confident. I was singing in front of a completely new set of peers and I lost faith in my own strength as a singer and colleague. I was afraid.

Armed with this reflection and with my pride kicked down just a notch, I was able to learn from this evening. It's done and over with, and that mess won't happen to me again. It's hard when our failures are broadcast out loud. It's hard knowing that sometimes even our best intentions are sidelined by inner ghosts. But tomorrow's a new day, and all I can do is learn from the past and move forward. I know I can sing the hell out of this thing. So I will.

Happy Play Place

I love the concept and look of Peanut Butter & Ellie’s, a restaurant where you can take your screaming baby and restless first grader to dine with no guilt. They even have cool toys and complimentary teething biscuits for babies. [Fortunately for me, it doesn’t look like they’re coming to NYC anytime soon, so I don’t need to rush out and steal a baby.]

From some of the press on their site:
“…a cafe that … would cater to kids (while offering stuff for more mature palates) in an atmosphere that she calls ‘fun, magical and folk-oriented, with plenty of wooden play areas, books, etc. to engage the kids without the chaotic bells and whistles of TV or video.’”

And I’ve decided to adopt their playground rules here at Casa Casey-Jose (okay, except the profane language bit):
- Please do not abuse the toys, chalk, furnishings or your friends and family.
- Please leave the toys and your friends and family the way you found them: clean, happy and in one piece.
- Please be patient and wait your turn.
- Please refrain from the use of any profane language or name-calling.”

(via da*xiang)

Splurge

If you know me, it goes without saying that I plan on being quite rich someday [my husband is more along the "as long as we're happy and healthy" mindframe, so it kind of balances the scale...]. That we are not famous + wealthy yet only reinforces this as the struggling artist period which will seem so quaint in hindsight. So sometimes when I'm window shopping I imagine what my biggest luxuries might be if money was not really an object. Midwestern values prevail, and there are certain extravagances (solid gold bathtub fixtures, $20,000 dresses...) that don't interest me in the least. Here's what I really love: dishes. I am continually drawn to china patterns, holiday settings, and the rest of our Fiesta Ware set, not to mention unique martini glasses, sugar bowls and salt + pepper shakers. And to be sure, they're not that expensive. But since we don't have room in the apartment (or enough guests) to even use the china we already have, this is definitely in the "not right now" category.

Fishs Eddy is a store in Manhattan that sells one-of-a-kind dishes at pretty good prices (they also sell marbles, but that's another story). It's cozy and colorful and (even when I'm just walking around taking pictures) feels like luxury to me.

Newsy

- I am currently itch-free. The bugs are either gone, dead, or sleeping. shhh...

- The first volume of the illustrious RightMoonUpdates was sent tonight. Twice. I'm feeling kind of idiot-ish and sent the first copy in html mode without any tags; everything ran together and looks like guck. Do not read that version - your eyes will go blurry and your brain will fall out. Read the second version. Or don't.
[subscribe or unsubscribe via the link on the left]

- Gotterdammerung opens Saturday. "Be there or be square", as they say.

itchy and scratchy

I'm a parasite's dream.

Growing up, our cats were always allowed to be both indoor and outdoor animals. Even now, Sonny (the infamous black cat/beatnick/feline mob boss) has a cat door so he can let himself in and out at will. Unfortunately, the cats would sometimes bring unwelcome guests into the house with them. No, I'm not talking about the time Cher (that's right, Sonny and Cher. Ironically, Sonny is the only survivor at this point...) ruined a perfectly good morning by running through the house with a skinned rabbit. I'm talking about fleas. You see, I am very very sensitive to fleas. Where most people get a few red bumpy bites, I get hundreds. And they itch so badly that the only relief is to scratch mercilessly. This is why I spent many summers with scabby bitten legs (much to my mother's embarassment). It's not that we lived with bugs. In fact, the fleas were blasted and removed from the house as soon as they appeared. But even when everyone else is bite-free and unbothered, the bugs won't stop attacking me and I can't stop scratching. The same thing happens at the mere mention of the word mosquito, and I've gotten welps more than a few times from house flies. What would be a small irritation to most people looks more like leprosy when I get bitten.

So I should have seen this coming. Pigeon Mites. Thanks to a hard-working husband, the pigeons' lair has been forcibly removed from our window. Everything inside and out has been aggressively scoured, scrubbed, sprayed and threatened. But since yesterday I have gotten about 70 (I wish I was exaggerating) pigeon mite bites. The damn things are creeping in through the window, and apparently in the absence of actual pigeons have found me to be a suitable, bite-able alternative. Zooey and Eric are fine. They've seen the mites, but have not been brutally and specifically attacked like I have (or maybe they have and they're just less prone to histrionic fits than me).

It is not hopeless. The building management has been alerted and they are sending the exterminator over. Hopefully I won't stratch myself to death before he arrives.

grumble

They're saying on the news that there is a proposed 24% (!!!) rent hike for two-year leases (16% for one-year leases) on NYC rent-regulated apartments.
That's it. Zooey is going to have start contributing more to the bottom line around here.

Crafty Goodness

My friend Staci is getting married in July, and the wedding colors are yellow and gray. These colors represent the bride's (yellow) and groom's (gray) favorite colors, and as I've been working on some wedding goodies for them, I've really enjoyed the symbolism of combining the colors. Inspired by the fabulous Superhero Designs, this bracelet (which I sent to the bride-to-be) was my first attempt at this kind of jewelry making.

Enlightenment at last

Because you've probably been trying for days and kinda messing it up, here's how to draw The Dalai Lama.

[Note: Jokey reference aside, I love the Dalai Lama and think Buddhism is the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Om.] True story: The Dalai's older brother (Mr. Norbu) was a frequent patron at the restaurant where I was a waitress in college. At least once a week I would get to serve Mr. Norbu his regular order: hot water and spaghetti with the sauce on the side. On one occasion (before I worked there), the Dalai Lama was in town, and his family brought him to our restaurant for dinner. The hostess, apparently not recognizing him by his sweet smile and saffron robes (uhh...he apparently blends right into a crowd of Hoosiers) told the entourage there would be a 45-minute wait before they could be seated(!) Not having the time to wait, the Dalai and his family were forced to leave and eat somewhere else. Of course, whenever the local celeb John Cougar Mellencamp came into the place, he got priority seating... Sure, that makes sense.

Holding On

Still waiting patiently for warm weather to stick around. I started to question it, but this [incessantly pounding] psychic allergy headache says it must be spring after all.

mild-mannered voyeurism

"Over one day in May, people all over the world will be taking a photograph an hour to illustrate a day in their life." This has potential to be fairly neat or really boring. Either way, I still might participate.

I love interactive community projects such as The 1000 Journal Project, The Mirror Project, and nervousness. Getting a glimpse into the lives of friends and strangers is sometimes a good escape from our own lives, but there's more to it than that. Through various parts of the virtual experience, I have often found inspiration, food-for-thought, and kindred spirits. There have been times when I literally discovered worlds and tools that were previously unknown to me. It's a cutomizable experience and, barring the occasional porn pop-up ads, I am really enjoying the ride.

The Birds

I hate pigeons. They are grubby and dirty and germy and loud. And they are living on (or in) our air conditioner. As anyone who has stayed overnight at Casa Casey-Jose can testify, this is not a new or isolated thing...the cooing (too pretty a word) and burping sounds start early in the morning, just as you'd otherwise be hitting the best part of REM sleep. Fortunately we don't hear them in the bedroom, so it's generally ignore-able.

But No More! Yesterday I awoke to what could have been the soundtrack of Hitchcock's The Birds...even the cat looked terrified. I looked out the window where the madness was coming from, and although the sound intensified, there were no birds to be seen. Only GIANT animal droppings. Forget pigeons - there are obviously baby dragons living out there. But where are they, and why are they suddenly so loud? We live on the third floor, so it's theoretically possble that they were perched on windows above or below ours. But how to explain the constant pitter-patter of little(ha!) bird feet on the air conditioner? And the bird mites which make their way in through the same? Is it possible that they've somehow worked through the metal casing of the air conditoner and are living inside the darn thing? Have they developed magic bird-cloaking devices? Regardless, they must be found and eliminated from our living room ambience. This presents a whole host of problems, as the window can't be opened without removing the a/c, and removing the a/c would mean bringing it (and possibly those nasty dirty dragon-birds) into the living room.

Perhaps a good exorcism is in order. Bring out the incense, kids, because this is serious.

Neti Pot Season

I was as skeptical as the next guy. A neti pot looks like a genie's lamp (without a lid), and the process sounds really...weird. You fill the neti pot with a water + non-iodized salt mixture, tip your head to the side, tilt the pot up against your nostril, and let the saltwater run through your nasal passages. Repeat on the other side. Then you lean your head down over the sink and all the nasty mucous-y goop comes flooding out of your nose. I've tried, and often take, other nasal sprays and tinctures, but this is the best process I've ever found for complete goop-cleanout. So, to officially (and belatedly) welcome in the allergy season, tonight I'm dusting off the old neti pot and kosher salt. Yeah, I know my life sounds glamorous.

According to the Himalayan Institute, "a nasal wash can be as routine as brushing your teeth. Use it anytime to:

- Remove excess mucus due to congestion.
- Rid nostrils of pollen and other allergens.
- Cleanse the nasal membranes of dust, smoke, or other airborne contaminants.
- Relieve nasal dryness due to air travel.
- Improve flow of breath before doing relaxation or meditation techniques."

The Moon at Starbucks

portion of wall mural, Starbucks @ Amersterdam/70th St., NYC

I avoided it for a while, but I'm a Starbucks addict. Not their coffee, which tends to be much too bitter for my taste (I order soy chai latte or hot tea), but the atmosphere and convenience have me hooked. I love the fact that no matter what neighborhood I'm in, I can find a Starbucks, buy a tasty beverage, sit in a comfy chair, and take a few minutes (or more) to write, knit or just rest. I love the fact that each location has its own personality, as dictated by the interior, neighborhood, and clientele. Yes, I make an effort to patronize local mom n' pop places when I find them...I'm all for supporting the independent business . And certainly, when those places offer comfort, good atmosphere and passable beverages, they're first on my list. But in general, it's Starbucks for me, and to be honest, I'm as surprised as anyone.

Jave Jive

Has anyone tried Rocamojo? According to their website, it's "uniquely roasted, ground and blended from certified organic soybeans -- and only soybeans. Each cup has a delicious full-bodied taste, along with all the amazing benefits of soy." Or, if you must, there is a hybrid "blend" with soy and coffee. I'm intrigued by the idea, for a few reasons:
- I'm a big believer in the benefits of soy
- I love warm coffee-ish beverages. And teas. And chai latte.
- I'm not really supposed to drink coffee. (Ha!)
- I like their logo
I'm a strictly soy milk person (in place of regular moo milk, not as my only beverage choice) these days, so if I put that in the Rocamojo, will that enhance the taste or be overkill? Hmmm... I might have to order some of this. Of course, it's highly unlikely that I'll ever fully give up the joys of real coffee, but I'm all for new beverage experiences [witness my Boba obsession].

Update [posted 4.23]

I received an email today from Michael Moss, Rocamojo's Director of Operations. According to him, "if you try Rocamojo with soy milk, or even better - soy creamer, you will become heavily addicted to the taste. The soy "dairy" products seem to have an incredible awakening in our coffees, making the taste, personally, irresistible." OK, I've got to order some of this..."addicting" is right up my alley. (I'll let you know how it works out.)

What does Hogan know?

I went to the potential office today because they require all prospective employees to take a series of exams. For starters, I was a little caught off guard when the testing included not only the usual Word/PowerPoint/Excel drills, but also a series of written skills tests. These were "fill in the bubble" tests that rivaled the SATs for inanity and inefficiently worded questions. Categories included (multiple choice!) spelling, reading comprehension, grammar and problem solving. As a rule I'm not a supporter of standardized testing, but I'm a good test taker (which is, of course, what they're really measuring) and I've always tended to land in the 99th percentile, so it's not a big deal (just a waste of time).

Enter Mr. Hogan. The Hogan Personality Assesment is (according to the website) "formulated on the basis of the most contemporary theories of personality, which suggest five basic factors of personality. These are known as 'The Big Five':

Extraversion (sociable, outgoing, ambitious)
Agreeableness (sympathetic, appreciative, kind)
Conscientiousness (prudent, organised, thoughtful)
Adjustment (stable, calm, stress tolerant)
Openness to Experience (curious, imaginitive)"

But it's a joke! For starters, any idiot can read through the lines of this true/false test to see which answer choices will make you seem like a more perfectly grounded, well-adjusted, motivated (but not so much that you might take over the company), dedicated employee with no nasty skeletons inthe closet. The only thing this test is capable of assessing (in my ever-so-humble opinion) is whether or not you're good at acting like a great indivdual (but not too individual...). Throughout the test there is a recurring line of questioning where they are clearly trying to pinpoint people that have stress-related medical symptoms. They ask if you get frequent headaches. They ask if you sometimes feel queasy. And (caution, this is where I got really offended) they ask if you have digestion problems. The thing is, I have Crohn's Disease, so you're darn right I have digestion issues. But if I answer yes to this question, not only will they associate it with stress, but they have forced me to divulge information about myself that I'm not willing to share. And I do believe that as a Person with a Disability, I should not be required to answer this question. Further, they shouldn't be allowed to ask this question. Seems pretty sensitive of me, doesn't it? It is. So many people judge the nature and consequences of Crohn's without any supporting facts, that I have come to be quite sensitive about what I consider "unwelcome disclosure". (p.s.: I get headaches too. It's a shame they didn't ask about nosebleeds...I could've fibbed on that, too.)

But there's more. Another true/false question was: "I hate opera singing." On this one, of course, my honest answer (which is I do not hate it except on days when my high C sounds overly shrill) puts me into a category of people who are more curious, refined and sensitive. Who are they kidding?

Highlights

Surprised Eric with an Easter basket

featuring an all-new handmade sock dog. This little guy is made from a pair of his dad's argyles.

Had lunch with dear friends. Walked to the park. Saw a Broadway show. Declared to anyone who would listen, "I want to be Chita Rivera when I grow up!"

Had dinner with more good friends/family. Ate (and drank) so much I had to be manually rolled out of the restaurant. And then, someone gave me a box of Peeps.

It was a mirthful day indeed. ...Now please excuse me while surrender to the exhaustion of a full day (and belly).

Easter Indulgence Gluttony

FYI: I will not be buying* any Peeps this year (even though they are my preferred holiday cuisine) since we'll be enjoying more than plenty of holiday piggy-ness at Churrascaria Plataforma. From the Queens Courier: "Two things are required to truly appreciate Churrascaria Plataforma, a large appetite (and I mean large), to keep you eating, and a group of friends to cheer you on."
Fortunately, I'll be fully equipped with both requirements.

(* I won't be buying any Peeps. As with all things, I will still gladly accept gifts... They'll just have to be rationed over a longer period of time, like longer than the usual one ten-minute sitting per box.)

NY, NY, NY?

What'll we call the new state, or do we take the name, too?

"City council member Pete Vallone has introduced a bill that will initiate the process of seccession for New York City, making it the 51st state. He points out that the state takes $3.5 billion more in taxes from the city than it gives back in aid (even with terrorism-related rebuilding funds.)" (via gawker)

Don't Hate Me Because

I am so popular. Three job offers on the way and another agency calling to see if I'm available. The ignore tactic is frightfully successful. Just keep telling yourself "I don't want a job" and the offers apparently come rolling in. Huh. I'm still ignoring...at least until Monday.

The Metropolitan Opera House
"I don't want a job I don't want a job I don't want a job I don't..."
(just practicing my new reverse-manifestation skills)

Carefully Plodding Onward

It's a fact of my personal and family history that I suffer from depression. I say this with a matter-of-factness that comes from years of acceptance and experience. I say it with the knowledge that I am not alone. It's a medical condition, and lots of people have it. I have no shame. It is an inconvenience though, as the "depressive episodes" tend to, remarkably, catch me unprepared (yeah, I know, the signs and patterns are there, but it still always seems so sudden and uncontrollable).

That said, I'm actually fine right now. Feeling pretty good (emotionally) as a matter of fact. But I know what's coming. While many people complain of "winter blahs", my low times tend to hit in the spring. Go figure...the sun comes out, the flowers bloom and I just want to stay in and sleep (and cry). This year I have decided to take the radically logical step of being prepared. I'm going to take my medication (d'oh. I know I should take it all the time, but it's really easy to skip it when you're feeling normal-ish). I'm going to go outside every day and enjoy nature and the wonderful city I live in (this sounds so simple, but in the throes of depression is a true struggle). I'm going to keep writing every day and be honest, open and aware of my true emotions. It may well happen that this spring I have an "episode", as I have for many years. But maybe, just maybe, this year will be better.

And if not, of course, I'll just blame my artistic temperament.

Memo to the guy on the M72

It’s a bold move. Wearing that closely tailored suit, slightly wide-collared shirt with burgundy and orange stripes, and those olive green and brown wing tipped shoes, the less fashion-savvy among us might accuse you of trying too hard. When they glimpse your lightly feathered hair, they may have visions of Don Johnson (the Miami Vice years). But you work it. Not only did your snappy ensemble sort-of-kind-of nearly work, but your confidence (but not overconfidence...you were riding the bus, after all) tipped the scale in your favor. And please, don’t think that the intended effect Ralph Lauren shopping bag you carried was lost on me. Accessorization through conspicuous consumption (“Look where else I’ve been shopping…my outfit must be really cool.”) is always a nice touch. Good for you, green shoe guy.

Ignore Ignore

Clearly there is truth in the theory that if you ignore someone they will only like you more. This is not confined to just your high school crush (Oh, Kevin, where art thou?). Two weeks ago I officially declared a self-imposed period of jobless bliss. Starting up a business + working on being an opera singer = I don't want another "day job". So of course, the phone is now ringing throughout the day with people wanting to send me on job interviews. In January and February, the primary placement agency that I've been working with sent me on countless interviews. Then in March: nothing. They stopped returning my calls promptly and didn't send me so much as a temp assignment. Fine. Good deal. I wanted to get going on more independent career development anyway. Really. And I let the agency know I was no longer interested. Of cousre, now that I've told them I'm not really looking for anything long term, just some temp work here and there... Now they want to send me on permanent job interviews every day. My disinterest has put me back on their A-List. And sometimes I just can't say no - not because I'm passive like that (I am), but because no one is listening. "It's the perfect job, your interview is tomorrow, let us know how it goes."

I had no idea how difficult it would be to maintain "out of work" status. But don't worry, I haven't actually been hired or anything yet.

Griffin, Sabine & Me

Reading about Bea's Mini Guide to Making Artist Journals (via P*Tina) has led me back to Nick Bantock's books. I first read Griffin and Sabine in high school, and can truly say I was changed forever. These books are a magical journey, and the collages and tactile delights within stretched my perspectives on "what is art" and "what is a good book". On this subject, Mr. Bantock writes:

"...I believe the written word has taken an unhealthy stranglehold on society's means of communication, and in so doing has driven our powers of visual understanding deep into our unconscious.
I have nothing against written language, far from it, but I do believe if we are to reclaim our full capacity to relate to our surroundings, we need to wake up our eyes and reattach them to our brains. In short, my books are an attempt to marry word and image in such a way that the mind absorbs the two perceptions as a unit."

images copyright Nick Bantock

For me, opening these books (and awaiting the next in the series, which will not be available until October 2003) is stumbling into a wonderful mystical world.

window washers

window washers at Sotheby's on a sunny Sunday afternoon

Ginger

When we were visiting family on the West Coast last October, Eric and I bought Ginger Altoids at the local 7-11. Haven't been able to find them since. I emailed the Altoids company (it's actually Kraft, don't cha know) and they said the Ginger Altoids are often hard to get because they are made in limited numbers... Rather than suggesting some local retailers, they suggested I buy them on e-bay! (Okay, I'm not going to start e-bidding for candy...especially with the shipping charges some of these people are adding in!) Well, I'm slightly peeved, but still without Ginger Altoids. So, be on the lookout and let me know if you need my mailing address. (Pretty please.)

Where I Wanna Be

Dear Mum, Please send ticket money. Thanks (and love! you're the best!), m.

"Radiohead will be playing the Field Day festival in Calverton, New York (on Long Island) the weekend of June 7th and 8th. Tickets go on sale 'privately' on April 15th ('publicly' on April 18th), and there are three different ticket types - a Single Day Ticket can be purchased for Saturday, June 7th or Sunday, June 8th for $65, a Two-Day Pass costs $120 and a Two-Day Pass with Camping costs $150. A booking fee will be applied to all tickets.

Saturday, June 7 - Radiohead, Beck, Thievery Corporation, Beth Orton, Interpol, Royksopp, Liz Phair, Tortoise, TheRaveonettes, Ben Lee, My Morning Jacket, Gemma Hayes, 22-20s, Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players and more.

Sunday, June 8 - The Beastie Boys, Sigur Ros, The Roots, Blur, Elliott Smith, N.E.R.D., Blackalicious, Peanut Butter Wolf, The Music, Polyphonic Spree, Le Tigre and more." (via coinz)

Granted, I only know about 80% of these groups, but it would be worth it for Radiohead alone, not to mention Beck, Elliott Smith, the Beasties, the Roots, etc., etc...

Spring Spring Spring

Everyone's ready for the sun to stay...

I've updated the Crafty Goodness section and moved it here. More goodies coming soon(ish).

Urban Bloom

If you keep your eyes open, growth can be seen everywhere...

Profile

I opened up the new Vanity Fair magazine yesterday only to discover that someone had clawed and/or chewed through a portion of the page I intended to read. This may or may not be the same someone that keeps unrolling and shredding all the toilet paper. Why is Zooey so restless? Becuase she really wants to break into cat-modeling and she's still waiting for her big break...

Patience is not an overly valued virtue around here.

Finished

In general, I would rather disappear than say goodbye. There are so many relationships and situations in my life that have simply faded from view because I did not actively close the door. It's just easier that way.

Today I have to return to my temp-hell office (last Friday was my last day there) to get my time sheet signed. It has to be done in person (ugh.) and I've been dreading it all week. No big deal, right? It involves the following: 1. Go to the temp agency and get a blank timesheet (even when I've asked for more, they have only ever given me one per week). 2. Go to former office (scene of the temp-hellish assignment), find someone to sign the darn thing. Find folder with my previous week's signed timesheet...take it. Duck and run before being forced to chat-it-up with former fellow co-workers. 3. Go back to the temp agency and turn in both timesheets, which will serve as the magic ticket to actually receive the paycheck that's been ready since last week. This all just seems like such a hassle, but I know really shouldn't be dreading the process as much as I do.

Once I'm done there, I've really said goodbye to that unwelcome working situation. That can only be a good thing.

Celebration

Here's an Interesting article about different symbols used by the celebratory crowds in Iraq. Includes hitting with shoes, clay discs, chest beating, flags, palm fronds, and "thumbs up".

I appreciate it when the "war coverage" discusses cultural aspects like this...

Red, White + Blue

Grand Central Terminal, interior

My favorite patriotic song is The Battle Hymn of the Republic. It gives me chills every time I sing it (and as an alum of a certain collegiate choral group, I've performed it, oh, about 2 million times). Musically speaking, the emotional highs and lows, as expressed through rhythm, tempi and tessitura, of The Battle Hymn are much more dramatic than our National Anthem. Of course, under the right circumstances, any anthem can overwhelm, uplift and transform (think: Whitney Houston). "Glory Glory", indeed.

Hold it

Addendum to below post: I want this.

"Beethoven's final manuscript of the Ninth Symphony, marked with the composer's revisions and insults to the copyist who produced it, could fetch up to $4.6 million at a sale in London next month. "

Only $4.6 million! I could hang it right above the electronic keyboard.

The Chrysler Building

The Chrysler Building makes me smile...even on an otherwise gloomy day.

All I Want

I am a big fan of instant gratification. If there's something I want, I tend to mull it over briefly and buy within the week. This habit started in earnest when I was working in the corporate universe with a great salary + bonus. Unfortunately, this "I want it/I'll get it" mindset became too easy. Even after Eric and I left our jobs to go back to school and tend to family/health issues, I still maintained a steady habit of getting what I wanted when I wanted it. I'm not talking about mad impulse buying like, say, a new car...but little things add up quickly.

This is not necessarily a healthy scenario. For a time, I think I really lost sight of what it really takes to get by. I know I can do without things, but I stubbornly resisted. When my health was at its worst, I felt I needed more things to get by. I was actively seeking contentment (or escape) in electronic gadgets and shoes. I felt that this was my right, somehow. Indeed, it is my right. But it didn't make me happy or healthy.

I hope I'm past that now. I hope that I have become, once again, a person who looks within to find contentment. I hope that I treasure my things, but never (again) attempt to substitute material objects for people and experiences. To be sure, I still have a "wish list", but I am now more content to leave these wishes on the shelf as long as need be.

What I really want that I plan to get (short-ish term goals):
- a successful operatic career
- to start a successful freelance card/invitation business
- to emotionally support my husband as he works toward his career goals
- to be a more responsive and true person. To reclaim the person that I truly am.

You can't buy those things on the Internet, anyway.

[Don't] Let it Snow

Monday's experiment: if you just stay in all day and pretend it's still spring outside, can you make it stop snowing inside? Perhaps I didn't work hard enough to suspend disbelief, or perhaps it's because my home "office" space is next to the [cold] window, but I didn't manage to bring much springtime into this snowstorm day. It's a little shocking to look outside and see snow right now... not exactly how I wanted to spend my first official day off, but a lesson in working with the unexpected, I suppose.

If you've been in my apartment (and are a pessimist), you might chuckle at the idea of any extra space around here. Although the apartment is pretty small (unless you live in Manhattan, in which case it's "a good deal for a one-bedroom") I have always been proud of the ability to find space for anything. There was plenty of room, for example, when we rented a piano for two years... When the movers took it away they were heard saying that if I ever thought of moving a piano up the three flights of stairs again, I should have my a** kicked. (Of course, I wouldn't let that stop me from trading in the keyboard for another piano if the opportunity arose.)

When I decided to start a creative business, I cleared an open space next to the bedroom window and moved a table and chair into the newly open area. It's just enough space to spread out my art supplies and feel separated from everything when necessary, and being by the window is an added bonus...except when it's snowing in April. It's amazing what you can create from "nothing" sometimes.

Crafty Paper Goodness

Today's contribution to the creation of my Paper Portfolio. The card feels like spring, which is nice since it does not feel like spring in NYC yet. I'm still experimenting to find the best way to get the image to resemble the actual card... (scanner? digital camera?) Because I use many layers and textures of papers I will have to accept that the images will not be fully representative of the actual product (this one has colored paper "flowers" glued to the card, although they look printed in the picture), but it will need to be clearer than this.

Suggestions welcome. I hope to have RightMoonPapers up and running by May.

Nosebleeds

They're starting again.

At various points in my life I have had spells of frequent nosebleeds. We're talking about multiple times a day for weeks. It's inconvenient and sometimes embarassing. I had them as a young child (memories of my cousin waking up screaming because one of my night time episodes had tainted her "blankie"), through grade school (you go to the nurses office and "wait it out", praying that you didn't get any on your clothes), and still have nosebleeds into "adulthood" (when it feels more ridiculous than ever to have a Kleenex stuffed into the offfending nostril, as you sit with your head down trying to become invisible).

As I've dealt with personal illness over the last couple of years, I have tried to get away from the question "why is this happening". But with all things, I think you need to some level of analysis: do I need to change my current habits to make this go away? So it is with the nosebleeds. The season is changing (or trying to), and weather is always a factor...seasonal allergies and all that. But going deeper, I think it's change in general. Or, to be more precise, an anxiousness for change. The body reacts to the environment, both internal and external.

I finally completed my temp job this week, and I couldn't be more relieved. I have decided not to take any long-term assignments for at least the next month. I am anxious to get started on creating my Paper portfolio, rehearsing for Gotterdamerung, and adding new roles into my repertoire. Without being tied down to a "day job" I can really put my energy into making these changes happen. To be sure, it's still a job...singing and creating art require more discipline, scheduling and preparation than any "day job" I've ever had (and I've had more than a few at this point). But still, it's a change.

And clearly I'm ready for a change...as soon as my nose stops bleeding.

Crafty Goodness

This is the first sock dog I ever made.
His name is "Kumot", which means 'blanket' in Tagalog. Get it?

Here's an eye pillow made from two fabric scraps (sewn together) filled with rice, scented with lavender. It's very relaxing, but I'm still working on getting the proper lavender-to-rice ratio. The eye pillow is great when heated for 30 seconds in the microwave. Ahhh...

Find some Inspiration

As I'm putting together my personal-creative-business plan, I keep referring back here:

"How to make a living doing what you love" by Keri Smith
"The Superhero Guide to Designing a Creative Business" by Andrea Sher

As with anything, use it if it helps. Or better yet, create your own... I'm working on that, too.

Underoos

New story by yours truly posted here. You will find it contains references to Wonder Woman, Isis, Underoos, and my cousin Lauren. I've added a "story" link on the right. Theoretically, this will have periodic updates.

Eyebrow redux

You wouldn't believe how many people come to this site searching for info on threading. If you're looking for facts without the witty banter, you might find this link more helpful. But of course, you're always welcome to loiter here. We're havin' a blast.

Whoo, that's two posts about eyebrows in one week! [Cue eerie laugh of The Count from Sesame Street ..."Two Posts! Mwahahaha..."]

Why is Grover there?
Because he's my favorite monster, as well as a great literary legend.

Optimus Prime Jose

Okay, by now you've probably heard that this guy legally changed his name to Optimus Prime. But do you think I should be concerned that my husband's reaction, when I told him, was uttter approval? There was even dicussion of using the name when we have children... and you wonder whether we're ready to breed yet? Maybe we can have twins and name them Barbie and Ken.

In fairness to Eric: I'm pretty sure he was kidding. [Upon edit: my husband would like to make it clear that he was not serious.] In fairness to me: I realize that Barbie and Ken can't be siblings because, as everyone knows, they're "dating".

Inane/insane post, I know. It's a slow day in the cubicle.

For a good cause

Over at lifeuncommon, Dawn is taking donations for the 2003 MS Walk.

Why should you donate?
* Your pledge will support the National MS Society's mission to end the devastating effects of MS.
* She's sending homemade photo postcards to anyone who donates $5 or more. That alone would be worth it even if the money wasn't for charity.

Of course, if you're looking for another cause, The Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America is always a good one. Let me know if you need to hear my moving firsthand speech about the trials and tribulations of a person living with Crohn's Disease...

The Pretty Button Store

The Pretty Button Store

Unfrustrated

(addendum to "Frustration" below)

I would like to emphasize that there are multitudes of people who make me feel good. That feeling of giddiness when I see their name on the return address label. The sense of comfort when I hear that familiar voice. The true joy of recognizing a kindred spirit, whether I've known them for a million years or just met them 30 seconds ago. These are great and simple comforts in life.

I know its not easy to stick with me, especially when my temperament is at its prickliest and most reclusive. Thanks for braving it.

Random Bits

The following items caught my eye this morning in The Morning News...not sure which I think is more far-fetched.

* A teacher in NJ is suing an 11-year-old student who "negligently and carelessly" collided with her in the hallway using an "excessive rate of speed." Um, I agree that teachers should qualify for hazard pay, but this seems like a bit much.

* The Royal Shakespeare Company is developing a video game version of "The Tempest". From The Observer:

"The game, intended for commercial sale and not only as an educational tool, would allow players to take on the role of any character in the play and alter the course of events as the plot unfolds. In the privacy of a player's bedroom, the monstrous Caliban could perhaps win the hand of the fair Miranda for the first time. The possibilities, says the RSC, are endless."

Bittersweet memories of my Acting III class come rushing back...

Frustration

There are many people who will look you in the eye and say “I will help you however I can.” But when it comes down to it, when you really are in need, many of those people turn their back or have nothing more to offer than negativity.

I do not like asking for help. I avoid it whenever possible. However, personal health and family issues over the past year-and-a-half have made me vulnerable. I have needed people and I have had to ask for help. To be sure, there are too many wonderful people to name… People that have been there and done their best to lighten the load. But it frustrates me beyond all measure when people turn their back on you and offer only judgment when they promised understanding. Truth: I screw things up sometimes. Situations. Taking on too much. Getting in over my head and being too stubborn to admit it. Yep. These are things I’m working on. But I try very hard to avoid laying my troubles on other people or expecting others to clean up the messes I’ve made. So when someone who has offered to help turns their back on me, I feel even more gun-shy. I don’t think it’s a good thing to stay inside yourself all the time, to think that you don’t need other people…but sometimes it seems so much easier.

Truths: I don’t like to talk on the phone. I am lazy when it comes answering emails. Although I make cards, I seldom send any. There are people that I absolutely treasure that don’t hear from me nearly as often as they should. But I would go to the ends of the earth for those I care about. And I wouldn’t offer my support to someone who I wouldn’t really give it to. I will never say “I will be there for you” if it’s not true.

Sometimes I’d rather be impolite than insincere. If you don’t have your word, then what do you have?

tweet tweet

I just heard the most amazing thing on Letterman: This kid, Michael Barimo, whistled a Queen of the Night aria from Mozart's Magic flute to perfection. I dream of being able to nail this aria (uh...singing it, not whistling), and this boy blew me away. Seriously...what incredible breath support!

From the Sydney Morning Herald:

“Barimo is an Italian literature major at Columbia and an aspiring opera singer. As a singer, he is an accomplished tenor whose range barely hits high C. But as a whistler he is a coloratura soprano with a range of more than three octaves. His whistling tone has a tight wavering vibrato. His low notes have a robust rumble, and his highs pierce the air like a piccolo.”

There's a sound clip here.