get it girl

I had a ridiculous time in New York.  Much of it blurs together until I can zoom in on a specific memory and make it pop out of the haze.  Being asked to recall specifics on command just gives me a blurry, spinning picture.  I had a great time, but most of it cannot be put into words.  I doubt the photos will even do it justice.

Naturally, I overdid it.  I knew this going in.  The stairs coming up from the subways are my nemesis.  I find I can walk quite a bit but put stairs into the mix and I'm good as gone.  I was very close to fainting once in Brooklyn; even got to pin-pointed tunnel vision, but somehow I managed to keep my eyes open and my body upright.  Looks like I've got some stuff to work on.  Can't live in New York without encountering stairs.  As it stands now, I'm probably going to get a cold in the upcoming week.  Things just feel "off."  And I'm stiff and sore from walking so much.  I knew this would be the case--I've gone through this kind of "overdoing" before.  I wake up and move like a 93 year old woman for a while.  I have to stretch and creek and pop for a while before I can stand upright and move with any speed.

I generally see a celeb or two while there.  I saw Gabby Sidibe this time.  Generally, it's easy to spot the celebs.  They wear sunglasses, while no one else really does.

Got to see friends again, make new friends, and pickle my liver.  It was a successful trip.

small miracles

I'm going to New York again for Thanksgiving this year.  I really didn't think I'd be able to because ticket prices were so ridiculous.  At one point, they were over $900.  And then one night, Amanda asked for the status of my ticket and as I was dreading telling her I couldn't come, I did a quick search on Kayak and found a round trip ticket for $360.  The return time is painful (6.30am on Sunday) but the price was right so I snatched it up.  I won't even really be missing work.  A lovely surprise!

Finances will be tight for the trip and a little afterward, but I can manage it.  I'll most likely be dipping into my savings for it, but I think it will be worth it.  Probably not the most fiscally responsible thing to do, but after the shitty summer I had, I'm raising my middle finger to fiscal responsibility on this one.  I just won't be buying a new pair of Vogs from the Fluevog store this trip.  I wouldn't be able to fit them in my luggage anyway.  My goal is to go with a backpack and a purse.

I'm still really emotional about certain subjects.  Just thinking about some things (like how amazing my parents are) can bring me to tears instantly so that I have to take a minute to compose myself.  I don't know if that's even hormone related.  This summer was pretty goddamn eye-opening.  It's overwhelming the amount of love I felt from people, some of whom I never expected to send out that kind of juju.  I'm still overwhelmed by it; thus, the hair-trigger tears.  There are a few disappointments that came to light as well, but for the most part, I'm just amazed at the people I am lucky enough to have in my life, whether through the silly internet or by luck of birth.

Yeah, so I was starting to lose it during that paragraph; had to take one of my "stop losing your shit" pills.  I don't like taking them, as I don't have any refills available.  On the plus side, I'll be able to sleep easily tonight, no sleeper-pills necessary.  I'm having dinner with my folks so I will probably be alright for sleeping anyway, belly all full of food.  The kitties have been pretty snuggly lately too, so sleeping isn't much of an issue.  My hips and lower back do get stiff more often now.  That's a radiation side effect.  I assume I'm going to have to deal with it forever.  Still better than the flipside.

Monday & Tuesday, NY Style

So I arrived in New York sometime after 9pm on Monday night.  Amanda was at a girls' dinner at a local burrito shop, a little astounded we'd landed early and there was no one in the taxi line to hold me up.  I was rather astounded at the taxi thing too, but I've read that airlines are now adding on extra time to all flight estimations to even out the late-flight percentages.  So if it's a 3 hour flight, they'll say it's 3 hours and 45 minutes.  Sneaky fuckers.  Anyway, I just took the cab to the burrito shop and got one to go before we walked the block down to her place.  Then there was the typical girl stuff; laughter, snarking, blah blah. 

Tuesday, Amanda had to work so I was on my own.  Initially, I'd planned to earn my passport and head off to the Brooklyn Museum to finally see Judy Chicago's Dinner Party exhibit but I'm apparently not meant to ever see that damn thing.  The Brooklyn Museum is closed on Tuesdays.  Molfuckers.  So instead, I hit the Metropolitain Museum of Art.  Amanda told me I could take the train down one stop and then take this bus, that bus, blah blah.  If I'd been in a hurry, I'd have done that, but honestly, I could simply walk from the subway stop to Central Park and then cross the park--bam, museum is right there.  It was a gorgeous day so that's what I did.  Also, someone outside the met was playing "I'll be home for Christmas" on a sax outside the museum.  Christmas music isn't nearly as irritating in New York City.  However, I think it will still get old after a while.

I wound up spending the entire day in the museum.  Like, the whole day.  I didn't leave until after 5pm and even then, I didn't see the entire body of work at the Met.  I wandered like mad, writing down pieces that struck me, stealthily snapping photos when I could.  (I don't get the no-photo policy, and why it's only enforced in some areas.)  At one point, I was overwhelmed by everything in there and I cried like an asshole.  Okay, so there's more to it, but explaining it doesn't really get the point across so I'm just keeping that experience to myself.  Suffice to say, I was overwhelmed and there were tears.  (I had napkins from the aweseome Lenny's bagel breakfast--mascara wasn't lost.) 

Amanda texted me to tell me where to meet her for girls' dinner, as she'd head up straight from work.  It was close to her apartment so I knew I'd be fine in finding it.  I just didn't know how long it would take me.  I walked across the park on the best lit paths, as the sun sets early in New York; I must admit to giggling at the fact that I was walking through the park after dark (even though it was full of people and their kids for the holiday weekend) because I knew my father would have a conniption if he knew what I was doing.  Hello, I'm 35 and still take pleasure in minor, childlike rebellion.  I found a subway station and hopped on a train (once I conferred with my map to make sure I wasn't going to wind up on the wrong end of town) and exited a few stops up. 

Still early, I hit a Starbucks to charge my phone and draw.  A nice, older Jewish man started chatting with me in line.  Amanda insists New Yorkers don't talk to each other, strangers, whatever.  I find this to be quite the opposite.  Everyone seemed to talk to me.  Of course, I also make a habit of making eye contact.  I think that's a "talk to me" sign in New York.  (Whereas, in my head, it's a signal that says, "I can pick you out of a line up--don't try any funny shit, asshole.")  The dude was nice, told me I was very attractive, and then asked his wife if she wanted a blueberry scone.  The scenario still makes me laugh.  I know he wasn't hitting on me--it just seemed like such a friendly exchange, not what's stereotypical New York.  (But, I guess, what is becoming my New York.)  I worked on a drawing I'd done some initial lines for; I decided to freehand in as much as I could without having to plot a million more points.  I was surprised to find that I could get the whole drawing finished without the need for more points and lines!  Go me!  (This is what I was working on.  The points plotted general outer-shaping, but that's it.)

I then met the girls at Angelina's for delicious pizza and wine and chatting.  Girls' dinner will be one of my favourite things when I finally move to New York.  I love all the girls' dinners I have when I'm there.  It's probably criminal how much fun we all have.  And Amanda's friends (mine now too, by proxy) are extremely intelligent.  It's so nice to be able to jump from a conversation about totally inane subjects to something rather heady and highbrow without blinking an eye. 

We hit a local pub because, well, it was on the way.  Or something.  And well, I like beer.  So yeah.  We kinda took over the pub.  Amanda and Audra sang karaoke, I asked the bartender (hi Frances!) for a pint glass that I later broke cos I'm a dick, and we drank.  And drank.  And entertained friendly boys, some of whom had ties to our party, some that just decided we were a fun group of gals and they'd like to assimilate.  *cough*  That's the story and I'm sticking to it.  I think we stumbled home around 3 or 4am. 

Living 4 blocks from a bar like that would be soooooo dangerous for me.  So deliciously dangerous.

Edit:  Whoops!  Updated the sketch link.  Sorry about that!

toofleff

I'm blogging from Casa Pants, home of Mama Pants and Big Daddy Pants.  I should be at work right now, but I had to call in last night, as I was still so stoned from all the medication that I didn't know my head from my ass.  I, uh, misread the demerol one and took more than I was supposed to.  But hell, if you're going to take more of one of the meds, that's the one to do it with.  Then they gave me an extra loopy before the procedure, even though I'd taken one the night before and one when I got up.  Afterwards, I came home and slept.  And slept.  And slept.  And when I woke up, I took a pain pill and slept some more.  Mama Pants wouldn't let me leave last night because I was so out of it. 

Today, my mouth isn't especially sore.  It's tender in spots, but it doesn't hurt like I thought it might.  The weird part is that I can feel the stitches.  Yeah, there are stitches in my mouth.  And that's kinda bizarre.  I keep feeling them with my tongue.  It won't be an issue for New York--I've been chewing on the other side for months and months.  But still--feeling thread all up in your gums is not normal, yo.

Tonight, I'm going to the Winter Holiday Arts Market.  I don't really intend on buying much; I'd like to save as much cash as possible for my trip.  But I like to look and I have friends there.  I want to go for that at least. 

Tomorrow is Via Colori as well.  This weekend is packed.  I have no set plan, but lots of printed pages of inspiration.  Amy's coming with me and I may put her to work.  I'd like to get through everything tomorrow so Sunday I can show up, take photos, and then go home and do my stuff to get ready for New York. 

New York!  Woooo!  I'm planning on going to the Brooklyn Museum on Tuesday while Amanda's at work.  (She doesn't have a passport so she can't go to Brooklyn.)  I know I'm going to get lost.  Kinda looking forward to it actually.  What I'm NOT looking forward to is the porno-TSA tactics.  Bleh.

Don't know if I'll have time to blog while I'm there, but I'll be sending photos to my flickr from my blackberry.  And probably tweeting.  So keep up! 

penultimate showdown

November strikes again. 

I'm having a tooth removed on Thursday.  Well, the remnants of a tooth, I suppose.  It's been broken for longer than I want to own up to and I need a dental implant for it, as it's a chewing toof.  They're going in on Thursday and doing whatever they need to do to start the process.  I realised this morning that Thursday night is the artists' reception for Via Colori.  I go every year to pick up my packet of information so I know where my square will be.  I somehow doubt I'll have the wherewithall to go this year and that makes me sad.  I won't know if I have a 4x4 or 6x6 square till I arrive on Saturday, or where it's located.

A pipe in my kitchen ceiling has been leaking for a while.  Today a (rather hot) plumber came to look at it and carved up my ceiling to see what's the what up there.  Indeed, a leaky pipe.  He clamped it until after Thanksgiving, as it's kinda hectic up in here right now.  But there are still holes in my ceiling.  Not hot.  I think I'ma staple some paper or something over them just so the kitties don't go getting any ideas about additional portals to Narnia or something.  I never did find Medusa's favourite portal.  I think it may be somewhere under my bed, but she ain't talkin.  The clamp at least stopped the incessant dripping, but I have a feeling it's going to be a way bigger pain in the ass when they replace the pipe.  I'm going to see if my landlady will at least call back the hottie plumber to do the job cos I was too chicken to give him my number this morning.  He has a cat and a dog, y'all.  And he likes cats a lot.  He wanted to take Liam with him.  And he's hot.  Did I mention that?

This weekend is Via Colori.  I don't have a design in mind.  I think I'm winging it.  This frightens me a little.  It's also a little exciting.  I have a few ideas milling around my head, but nothing solid.  It's going to depend on my square size.  Either way, I'm hoping to get the entire thing finished Saturday so that I can use the majority of Sunday afternoon to get shit done.  This weekend is also WHAM (Winter Holiday Art Market) and I'm going to the pre-show on Friday.  Everything all at once.

Monday I leave for New York.  It's all smunched in there.  And I've finally gotten the go-ahead to let this cat out of the bag:  I'm marching in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!  Amanda and I will be joining a smattering of her coworkers in reigning Horton the Elephant (of Horton Hears a Who fame) in his balloony glory during the parade.  I don't even know what to think of that.  It's surreal to me.  We're not allowed to take photos during the parade, as we have to be holding that sucker tightly and all, but I'll be able to get some during the blow-up party before, I hope.  And we're all supposed to be in some sort of cohesive uniform costume thingie--I'm imagining those paperish jumpsuit thingers.  They asked for sizes n' all sorts of information on the release forms.  I wanted to just list adjectives for sizes, but they wanted hard numbers, the bastards.  We guessed.  I suppose there's no real "Fatty Fat Fat" size anywhere, but dammit there should be!

So yeah.  November likes to kick me in the ass each year and its done the job sufficiently this year by making everything happen within a week's time.  But I also get to kick back this year.  From New York.  I'm hoping this might be the first year that I win the fight.  C'mon November.  It's my turn.