The Emily Narrative

Blogs are hard to keep updated

2008-09-29T11:55:00.002-04:00

I obviously suck at this. Sorry to anyone who's been waiting around on baited breath... all one or two of you. Anyway, sorry, honestly. But to be honest, I've been on Facebook a lot, so you can always check me out there. Meanwhile, I've promised myself to update this thing more often, and her I am embarking on that very notion yet again. Sure, I fall off the wagon, but I can always get back on, right? It's not rolling very fast, after all.

Okay, so marathon training is in full swing, with just five more weeks before the moment of truth. I ran an 18-mile race in Central Park yesterday, and that went well. Next weekend is a half-marathon, just to tune up a bit, and after that I think I start tapering back my miles, so we'll see how that goes. Weightwise, I'm maintaining my goal weight, eating normal food, and feeling really healthy, so all's well on that front.

Work is busy but manageable, school is marginally more busy and slightly less manageable... I haven't picked up my guitar in a couple of weeks, and that's killing me. I'm thinking of doing a show for my birthday, sort of a gift to myself, and having as many people as are willing come out and join me. I also want a couple of days for a vacation, but I can't think of when those will happen. Thing is, I really need a break. I'm also teaching an Intro Psych course in the Bronx and a community college out there, and that's just about as much fun as I've had in a good while. Seriously gratifying work... didn't think I'd love it THIS much, but hey, I've been surprised before.

Well, there's that.

This is just my first little toe back in the blogging swimming pool... I promise I'll keep at it better. I think I need it, just to breathe, to take stock, to feel like I'm not alone in it. if that makes sense, good... that's all I can ask. If not, stay tuned... maybe I can clear it up for you before too long.

Yes, I'm still out here!

2008-07-26T15:18:00.013-04:00

Okay... where to begin...

First, sorry about being gone so long from the blogosphere. Seriously, I didn't think anyone really cared, and then I start getting these random angry emails from eople telling me they're sad that I'm not blogging. REALLY??? Okay... sorry. so now I'll make a concerted effort to blog regularly from now on... consider my hiatus over.

Second, I'm still singing, still marathon trianing, still working at CASA, still a grad student (only now working on the dissertation and a couple of other side projects), still in New York City and still loving it. John and I are still together, still bliss incarnate, still healthy and keeping busy. I still kept all of the weight off, weighing in at the same weight as when I reached my goal back in December (sometimes even dipping below it by a couple of pounds!). John is also still working to keep the new bod looking good, and doing a great job. He's also still hard at work on the classics, taking on a summer course in Greek authors, which borders on fun for him these days. Basically, that's about it.

So where to go from here... I run the New York City Half-Marathon tomorrow; I'm nervous, but not freaked out. It'll be fun, lots of people there to cheer us on, and maybe even a couple of friends will come out to support me. That's always nice... honestly, it really does make a difference when you cheer runners on during a race. I remember a couple of races ago when a friend of ours was several yards away from the finish line, and I heard him shout, "Yeah! Go, Emily!" In that instant, I'm not quite sure what happened... in short, I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. I just remember feeling a jolt of surprise and excitement as soon as I hearn him yell out my name... then I found myself in a whole new state of mind; I wasn't even tired anymore. I took in a deep breath, set my eyes ahead of me onto the finish line, and started kicking. There was even a photographer in exactly the right spot to immortalize the moment...

Bryan, the aforementioned friend, is the tall guy in black that I passed just before the picture was taken. the older couple in the sunglasses seem impressed, right? Anyway, the result was definitely unexpected... I hit the finish line in my best time yet... a 7:58 mile. Not bad for having just started running less than a year ago and having lost 70 pounds in the process. Since that race, I've beaten that time with a 7:44 mile (granted, in a 4 mile race instead of a 6.2 miler, which is what the other race was, but still... yeay). Tomorrow won't be about speed, but about distance run well; as long as I finish in under an hour and fifty minutes, I'll be able to live with myself well enough.

Right... so I'm back... and okay, I missed you, too.

Oh, yeah... forgot I had a blog...

2008-04-05T15:09:00.002-04:00

I didn't mean to, honest. Things have been completely nuts out here, though. Lots of work at the office, at school, with teaching... well, not so much with teaching, but its' still work. The running's going well; I'm up to about 30 miles a week, and will try to maintatin that for the next two or three weeks before adding any more. Speaking of which... I need to go for a run here pretty soon.

It's a gorgeous day in New York City today. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 degrees, and sunshine all over. It would be criminal not to go for a run in this. granted, it's a long day to run in... I had rehearsal all morning for a concert that's going on tonight 9and again tomorrow afternoon), but it's really just that gorgeous out there right now. I'd be kicking myself for a week if I didn't soak some of that in. As for the concert, I'm sure I'll be fine. Maybe a little tired, but whetever. Then I have a mass to sing at tomorrow, then the concert in the afternoon, then probably a work day at the office with John. I can handle that.

Where are we... April, right? Jeeze... that was quick. I'm not exactly complaining, just a little unprepared. This means that the semester will be over in just over a month, and I have some pretty major projects to complete. A philosophy paper, a practicum project, a conference presentation... no, two... and a nice big start on my dissertation. Ugh. I get tired just thinking about all of it. I know I'll get it doe... I always do... but I don't think I'm going to enjoy it very much. Jane's all done and going back to Canada to strart her new job. Andrea, another grad student in my program, is also leaving for a post doc at Harvard, and another one, Karla, is finishing up as well. A few of the undergrads I've met over the years are graduating and moving on. I'm starting to feel a little inadequate. That's normal, I suppose, but still not pleasant. Hell, I haven't even gotten the results of my comps yet. I'd love to have a huge milestone to celebrate, something to make me feel some sense of accomplishment. Guess I'll work on that for now. Does a dissertation proposal count? If so, that's in the fall, so I guess I'll keep my eyes open for something a bit sooner, something of a morale-booster kind of thing. Ideas are most welcome.

Meanwhile, I'm definitely in the grind. I go to a running class every Thursday, and am still taking fencing lessons every week. I fenced in a tournament last weekend and I didn't do too well, but at least I'm back at tournaments, so I could care less. I have a couple of voice students, and they, along with a few other invited folks, are putting on a recital that I've organized for them at the end of April. I have my sights on an audition in May, as well as a conference, and who knows how I'm going to feed myself over the summer. I've applied for a psycho-educational therapist position that doesn't really pay much, but it's experience I think I'll really benefit from... meanwhile, maybe an adjunct teaching gig over the summer might be good, just to do that silly grocery-shopping thing. I'm still leading the group therapy on Fridays for cancer patients, and I'm still in a size 4-6, which I'm actually kind of suprised by. I didn't gain it all back after all! I mean, I've actually managed to lose all this weight, stick to eating well, continue my workout regimen... I didn't think I was capable of it. Go figure.

I think that, in a few days, my CD will be on iTunes, which will be good, because maybe now I can make some money from all of that work in putting the album together. Who knows... it may not amke a difference, but I like to think it will. So yeah... buy my CD.

I need a break... I leave it at that.

Spring break, in theory

2008-03-17T19:30:00.006-04:00

Because I'm not feeling very "breaky" so far. Granted, school's been in recess since last Wednesday, but I've still been working, so I have to feel just a little bitter. I know there are a few of my friends out and about in the world, taking advantage of the fact that spring break is still a break. I, on the other hand, didn't quite catch on, so here I am, slaving. It could be worse, I guess, but since it's not, grrrrr.

On the bright side, John and I are getting to spend a little more time together, which is always fantastic. The other day, we decided to walk from Columbus Circle (60th) down to Union Square (14th). Thinking it was going to be a long trek, we mustered up our courage and went for it. Strangely enough, it was over before we knew it, and we didn't feel a thing. It reminded us of how far we've come, how a walk like that would have rendered us worthless for a week back in the fat days of a year or two ago. Now, it was barely noticeable, and that was nice, albeit a little surreal. In fact, being this new size is still pretty weird for me. I catch myself in mirrors or windows and freak out a little, even now. I thought I'd be past all that already, but it seems not... it's better, but not quite gone. Given the fact that it's still a little cold outside, I sometimes go for my runs on the treadmill at the gym. Every so often, I'll see myself in the mirror... running... my arms and legs showing muscular definition I've never seen before on my person... a couple of times, I've had to double check to make sure it was actually me and not some other person on a treadmill next to me. Sure enough, I'm coming along, and I'm not looking back, I can tell you.

All this work is for the marathon, sure, but there's more to it. I'll be getting a new photo shoot booked soon, and I'll be performing more often in coming weeks. I remember comments from people back in Dallas, before I left... "You've got a great sound, and if you lost that weight, you might make it." Well, I took it to heart. At least now I have a fighting chance, yes? Well, it's worth a go, at least. Sometimes, it really is all about the packaging.

As for school, that's coming along. It's now a matter of doing the work and getting through, as far as I'm concerned. I'm doing more than I have to at every turn, which is always a good idea, and always exhausting, but that's the dirty little secret no one tells you in grad school... going above and beyond is actually the norm, and those that don't are actually underachieving. Go figure... I'm actually just average after all. Oh, well... time to top myself, then. I'm looking into going through the process of licensure, which is not the normal way of things in my particular program. The way I see it, it's another necessary sort of thing they don't tell you about... we need all the extra help we can get in this field, and licensure is just that sort of edge. I hope so, anyway, because I'm doing it.

Tomorrow is actually a calm day for me, the closest to an actual spring break day I'll be getting. Video games are on the agenda, and not much else. Trust me, I'm perfectly happy with that.

In light of progress

2008-03-08T17:33:00.002-05:00

I find that I have to make due with "eh" news now and then... not bad, by any means, just not entirely what I'd hoped for. For instance, I've recently been told (in a very secretive yet informal email) that an application I sent in asking for a certain kind of funding has gone through, and that I've been happily approved. Good news, right? Well, of course... the thing is, I only applied for that option because it was a fall-back, in case I didn't get the option I wanted. If I got the secondary option, that means the one I was hoping for isn't going to happen, as I can't get both. It's not even a difference of money (as far as I know, the sum is identical), but of what I'd be doing in the next year as a result. Oh, well... again, eh.

In other news, I'm running a 15k tomorrow morning, and I'm excited and nervous about it. i ran a 15k in january, when I was still visiting over in texas, but it wasn't a normal 15k... there was a 5k, then a 10k, with a break of a few minutes in between. This will be the first time for me to run this distance continuously, and I'm pretty stoked about it... just a little nervous, too. I ran about 6 miles today in preparation for it, so I think it'll be fine. I'm also not going to push for any kind of personal speed records... i think I'm just going to take it easy, run a moderate pace, and gt to the finish line without injury. As a somewhat-related side note, John and I are both in the lottery for the ING New York City Marathon in November 2008. Apparently, we find out in June or July or somesuch if we've been selected in the lottery, adn there have already been a record number of applicants, so who knows. Either way, I'm still marathon training, so if i don't get into the NYC Marathon, I'll find some other one somewhere else to run. besides, I'll have guaranteed entry in 2009, so I'll get to run it eventually, but it would kick a good deal of ass if I could run it this year, too.

In other mindless news, I'm getting back into th swing of things with music. I'll be going on a photo shoot in the next few weeks (since I've lost about 85 pounds since the last shoot, i think these are long overdue), and I'll be re-entering the circuit of open mic gigs in the city, with the very real posibility of (finally) doing an official CD release by summer. I've had a couple of people on my case lately, telling me I should put the album on iTunes, so I'm researching that at the moment. it'll likely cost a little, but I'm sure it'll be worth it, right? Anyway, buy my CD.

It's been raining here for a couple of days, but it's supposed to stop in plenty of time for the race tomorrow. It's also supposed to be pretty cold, but not as cold as the last race, so I'm sure I can handle it. Running in the cold is actually pretty nice, once you get throught he first mile or so.

...just don't go corporate.

2008-02-29T15:02:00.012-05:00

I know I've already told some of you this story, but it burns me up so much that I simply HAVE to tell it a little more, just to get it off my chest. I was at the gym, in the locker room, standing naked in front of my locker and putting on my running clothes. A woman was just getting ready to leave, and was taking her things out of the locker next to mine. She noticed the tattoo on my bicep and asked me what it said. When I answered (and demonstrated, by turning my arm), she said, "Hmmm. Wow. That's neat." Then turned the corner and left. A few seconds later, she reappeared from around the corner, so I thought she'd left something behind. Instead, she just looked at me and said, "Yeah. Just don't ever go corporate." And then she left again. I was stunned. I didn't know what to say, and even if I did... well, I was stunned.

What the hell did that mean????

DON'T EVER GO CORPORATE???

Bitch.

Okay, so I have a few tattoos. However, they're invisible when I'm fully clothed, and I'm guessing that people tend to be fully clothed int he corporate world, yes? There are people who see me almost every day, have even seen me regularly for years, and don't know I have a single tattoo. And what if anyone DID know that I have tatoos? They're not of naked women or skulls and crossbones or anything like that (mind you, I find neither of those at all objectionable, nor am I saying I'll never have tattoos of either)... the tatoo this woman saw says "philosophy" if you read it one way, and "art & science" if you read it the other. As for my others, they're all... well... interesting in a pretty academic way. And okay, I have a naked picture tattooed on me, but it's of DaVinci's Vetruvian Man. Seriously... never go corporate???

Actually, I don't suppose I ever will. Then again, I'm pretty close to it now, working in my big office building in midtown Manhattan, with my own office and my daily boardroom meetings and such. And my attire is regularly complemented by the people in my office, none of whom have ever seen a single one of my tattoos. Prompted by this incident, I asked John, who is covered in his share of skin art, if he had ever had anything like that happen to him. he said it happens now and then, and he wasn't sure why, either. He doesn't exactly look the part of what is actually does, for that matter, so people are often shocked to hear that the guy covered in tatoos is a PhD student in Classics holding down a full teaching load at a university. you know... despite the tattoos and the pony tail. So yeah, he gets the odd comment, and he doesn't really care. As for me, I still think the lady was a bitch. She wasn't making small talk... she was giving me life advice I wasn't even asking for. Hell, she came BACK into the locker room to tell me that. And for what? Don't go corporate OR ELSE? What the hell? Ugh... I hate people.

Okay... That's done. One a lighter note, here are some new pictures from my last race, the Al Gordon Snowflake 4-mile. See any tattoos?

(Bitch. Okay, okay, I'm done.)

It's called the Al Gordon Snowflake 4 Mile and there are actually snowflakes? Yipee!

Ah, snow... oh wait... this race is gonna be cold.

Oh well... I finished anyway! Yeay for me, I'm a winner!

And check it out... not a bad finishing time for 4 miles on a cold day and icy roads... treacherous conditions be damned!

Checking things off the list

2008-02-21T19:53:00.002-05:00

For instance... I just finished up headlining at an AIDS benefit concert at Fordham, which I think went well. It ran a little late, so the crowd was a little thinner when I finally got up there, but my set went well, and I sold a CD. Yeay for my big ten bucks! Anyway, it was fun, I'm glad I did it, and now it's done. I've also just finished vocalizing with the cast of the show I've been assistant music directing for (they're having their opening tonight), and they sound great, so my work's done there. As of this evening, I've put the finishing touches on the call for abstracts for the qualitative conference, and I'm on my way to upping my running miles tonight so that I'm into the double digits by next week in my marathon training regimen. Check, check, and check.

I'd like a nap, please.

I mean, I feel great, so I'm not running myself ragged or anything. I just want a nap, that's all. That, and about six extra hours tacked on to each day. I just don't have enough time, and that's always stressful. yesterday I gave an interview to the "Inside Fordham" paper, about my role as a graduate student mentor to the Fordham University Choir. Afterwards, I stoped and thought about what I'd said... something about other grad students probably wanting to do all the things I'm doing but simply not having the time to invest in the undergrad community, since they're so busy with their graduate work. it makes me wonder why the hell I think that I've magically found the time that the other people around me don't seem to have. Truth is, I haven't, though I continue to try. Was it always this way?

Yep. I've always done this. Ever since I was a kid... lessons, choirs, activities, shows... always. And there's always more, and I always do that, too. When cancer came along, I got this great excuse to keep doing things this way... live for the moment, you never know how long you have left, do everthing you possibly can, and all that. Whatever... I'm having fun, yo.

Taking time to catch my breath

2008-02-14T22:21:00.008-05:00

I never thought comps could take so much out of me. It's really taken me this long to lick my wounds after than weirdness of two weeks. I have no idea how I did, but I can't really say that I entirely care anymore. I'm just glad to be done, and that's the most important thing.

Anyway, moving on.

I'm working on three major projects, a symposium, and two conferences right now. I also just got a new job, working at my practicum placement at a more involved level (and I have an office now!)... I'm virtually Mary Tyler Moore in a beret, traipsing in and out of my gigantor skyscraper office building in midtown. I'm gonna make it after all, or something... just as soon as I get my first paycheck.

Right. So now, I'm sitting in a rehearsal of a musical at Fordham... somehow, I ended up as the assistant music director on this show, and here I am. More on that later, I'm sure. I also have another race coming up, which I think is a 5 mile run at Central Park. The NYC marathon lottery also opens up soon, and I fully intend to throw in. This next race is just another one of many, many more.

Done with comps!!!

2008-01-27T22:32:00.001-05:00

And I'm spent.

I never thought they could be so exhausting. seriously... it's two days later, and I'm still beat. I have loads of work to catch up with, work that I didn't have a chance to get to because I was to busy studying/freaking out about comps for the last two weeks. Turns out that three weeks is a long time to put the rest of the things in your life on hold, and it doesn't seem like it all went away, because here it all is, waiting for me to deal with it. well, too bad. I'm taking my time to get back into things. No worries, though... I'll get back to things. In a sec.
Meanwhile, in other news... I just landed a part time job with my practicum placement, working cases that are attached to the study I'm already involved with. So now they'll be paying me... yeay, money. I'm also still keeping the weight off, still marathon training and running a lot, still generally busy but happy enough with the state of things. John's focusing a great deal on his working out at the gym and reading Greek, two things he never did back in Texas.

It's cold. No snow, but it's definitely cold. being less fat in cold weather is not my idea of fun. If anyone has any ideas on how to be generally warmer in a smaller body would be most helpful.

I have a race next weekend, a little 4-mile run in the park. Beyond that, there are a couple of races afterward, in coming weeks. All I can say is that I better not get injured. That would definitely make running a bunch of races a lot more difficult. Here are some pictures from the races I did in December and earlier this month, a couple in texas and one when I got back to New York.

Here's the bunch of us at the "Just for the Heck of it" run in Arlington.

And here I am, later in that race, turning a corner and kicking a little ass.

See? I'm beating people. They're behind me. I like pictures where there are a bunch of people running behind me.

This is after new years, at the Addison Resolution Run... I was pretty happy about doing this one, because it was my first 15k. Turns out I'm capable of running a 15k. Notice the person running behind me. Oh, yeah.

And here I am crossing the finish. Incidentally, I ended up getting a trophy for this one... fourth place in my age group. Woohoo!

And this is at the Fred Lebow Classic, in Central Park, just after getting back home from Texas. Note the smiling. Running isn't just pain after all!

And then, the finish line... and people behind me! That never gets old, believe me.

Extra fun

2008-01-14T01:46:00.001-05:00

For starters, Ricky has been in town, so it's been extra happy for me these last few days. Ricky was a big part of my world back in Dallas, mostly at Dallas Opera rehearsals (and after rehearsals at the bar), so having him here for a few has been a real treat. That's one of my extras.

Another was the race I ran on Saturday. Okay, so I got there at 9:10, thinking I was early for the 9:30 start... except it was a 9:00 start. Great. So I get on the course anyway... the 5-mile course... for which they've already started taking up markers, so I can't tell where my turn is... so I manage to add an extra mile to the race by running the whole stinking 6-mile loop (but still finished ahead of the walkers... HA!!!), and the chip on my shoe didn't record my actual start/finish time, so I was clocked at something like an hour and twenty minutes for something that only took me about 55 minutes to run. Yeah... talk about extra.

Finally, there's my last extra... comps. Enough already with the stinking comps! I'm sick of them... I've done it once, and once is enough, thank you. I haven't studied nearly as much as I know I should have at this point, but hey... I have five more days, right? No problem... I've got this. Doesn't mean I'm not stressing, but I've got this.

Another little extra... at my practicum placement, I was offered the opportunity to apply for a part-time position that actually pays money, so that's in the works. Yeay for extra money (assuming I land the position). Anyway, fingers crossed, please.

Back home and loving it

2008-01-09T00:08:00.000-05:00

Seriously... I really missed New York. We both did. Sure, we had a good time seeing everyone back in Texas, but I've had enough of Texas. Sort of the reason I moved to New York in the first place. Strangely enough, it turns out that John was eager to get back to the Big-Appleness we call home. I may have pried him kicking and screaming into New York life, but he's more than accepted it with open arms since he's been here, and we were giddy as those two little naked Rodin sculpture babies when the plane landed at Laguardia. So yes, we're back, and happy to be so.

Now it's crunch time. John has a paper to write. I have comps, as well as a life to get back to. Meanwhile, a friend of mine just had triplets, which makes me feel a little like an underachiever (she even worked all the way through her pregnancy... that's a woman after my own heart)... maybe I can look to her as inspiration to finish my comp studies and get on with everything at full steam.

Here we go.

Happy newness

2008-01-02T11:03:00.000-05:00

Hope everyone's having a good start to the new year! We had a good enough time of it, I suppose. John and I worked a job, but it was a super-easy new year job of standing around watching cash boxes at two new years eve parties, so it was easy money (and enough of it to buy me for new years). Afterwards, we spent some time with friends, eating some good food and doing some back-and-forth resolutioning. My resolutions: to stay in my new weight range, to run the NYC Marathon, to put together a game plan for my album sales, and to not be negative about my self-image for the next year. John's going to continue pursuing calm and focus in his life, which he's enjoyed so far, and to depersonalize things in general. Very spiritual of him, if you ask me, and rather admirable. After all, we're both in the gym already, and working as hard as ever, so the usual "get in shape" resolutions are sort of pointless. we're also very committed to schoolwork as it is, so I don't think we'll have to go down that road of resolutions, either. I suppose, then, that these deeper, self-reflective resolutions and goals are the only way to fly, and I can't say I mind it too much.

In the coming week, we're going to be getting new tattoos... I'll be sure to post pictures as soon as I have some, so keep your pants on.

Happy Merry

2007-12-27T07:21:00.000-05:00

So there went Christmas. Not a bad one, either. For starters, we got to see the family, catch up with close friends that we haven't seen in a while, score some pretty great shwag, etc. John and I will be going in on Monday for new tatoos, which will be good family fun, and I'll be doing the Holiday in the Park thing at Six Flags wih my darling boys, the Johns and Ricky and Roger, some time on Friday. Best of all, (or, at least I think it is), we've actually managed to stay on top of things where our workout regimen is concerned; we've gotten into the gym like clockwork, and my running schedule/John's lifting routine have remained unsabotaged. Wow.

On that note, I'm about to embark on my third week of transition on my Medifast diet. I've finally gotten a few ooohs and aaahs on my weight, so I'm gratified on that front at long last. Transition, though, means the re-introduction of a bunch of foods that I haven't so much as thought about or looked at in the past six months, which is both exciting and terrifying all at once. For instance, I began eating extra vegetables for the first time three weeks ago, and two weeks ago saw the addition of fruit to my daily meals. Starting tomorrow, it'll be time to throw dairy back into the mix, and the following week will be time to include grains and breads. It may not seem like a huge deal, but it's pretty freakin' enormous to me. For one, I'm weighin in at about 127 pounds, a full three pounds below my goal. I can't say I've ever... EVER... weighed that little. Hell, I may have come from the womb at heavier than that. So yeah, I'm pretty scared, mostly because I don't want to lose what I've worked so hard to attain. I'm following the transition schedule put in plce by Medifast, though, so I should be fine. Hey... they brought me this far, and they haven't let me down yet, so I'm willing to give these folks the benefit of the doubt. meanwhile, I'll continue with my marathon training, as well as preparing for a 15K that's coming up in a little over a week (a "resolution run" over in Addison), which I signed up to run while I was still back in New York. And let's not forget my studying for comps, which I'll admit has gotten off to a slow start. But hey... slow and steady... well, at least I'm hoping slow and steady will do something good for me, because that's what I've got at the moment.

By the way, if you're reading this and I haven't gotten to visit you (assuming you're a friend of mine living in the DFW area), drop me a line already!

The holiday rush cometh

2007-12-22T08:45:00.000-05:00

And, to be honest, I'm not ready. I did everything in my power to prepare, almost taking things to the point of anal mania, but to no avail. As it turns out, when your plans involve other people, and those people don't exactly hear your plans, the plans don't really matter. It's been two days on this trip, and already I've had a half dozen plans fall through. Love it. No matter... I think I've gotten over the initial stress of those things, and I'm ready to take everything in stride now. Literally.

I'm going to be running a 5K in Arlington this morning... it's called the "Just for the Heck of It" run, and I'm sure it'll be a little lame by comparison to the races I'm used to in New York, but at least it's something to do.Besides, it's only a 5k, so I'll be in and out in an hour, hopefully with the inclusion of parking and picking up my race bib, etc. So I'll do that, then, come back to Chuck's place, where I'll clean up and go on with my day. I have a few friends to visit, some Chrstmas shopping to tackle, and then we're ending up at my Mom's to spend the night. You know... at some point.

That is, if things go according to plan.

Right.

Being back is weird

2007-12-20T11:11:00.000-05:00

John made the comment yesterday, as we were going for an evening run around Chuck's neighborhood, that we'd only been in Texas a few hours, and he already missed New York. I understood completely. I mean, it's not that we hate Texas. We're really happy to be here again for a visit, to see so many people that we love and miss, to have that odd experience of revisiting things that were once so intrinsic a part of our everyday lives, now so experientially removed from who we are now. Still, I, too, miss New York. Frankly, it's kind of my job as a New Yorker. If you live there, I'm sure you understand. Anyway, the evening run was also different... the air was thick last night, the new allergens in the environment were noticeable, and everyhing was so.. well... quiet. That, and it was about 62 degrees, in the middle of December. Weirdness.

The trip here got off to a predictable start; Laguardia airport was a madhouse when we got there at a little before 5am, and we stood in line at check-in until about 6:45, just fifteen minutes before our plane would depart. While standing in line, Kyadden mewed incessantly in his bag, upsetting all of the nearby dogs in their bags, which was good fun. Of course, once we got on the plane, the world was right again. Kyadden went instantly to sleep, the plane left on time and arrived at DFW fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

There was some suspense riding on this arrival for us because my Mom would be picking us up, and she hasn't seen us since our big physical transformations. She got to the baggage claim, and when she finally saw us, she gave John a big hug, then came up to me and said, "Wow, your eyes are a little red... you need to get more sleep." Yeah... that's my Mom for ya. Later, though, she did have a good look at me and freaked out, so that was gratifying. i was hoping for more of a cool holy-crap-you-look-so-different-or-something look on her face, but no such luck. Oh, well... plenty of people to see me yet, so I'll just have to wait until then before I get that gratification. Chuck and Donna saw me for the first time in a while, too, and they both said something, but they've seen me more recently than most, so they don't really count on my shock factor search. But there are others, and I think they'll have a little more of a reaction. I hope so, anyway, or I'm going to feel extremely lame.

I am so much cooler than I was yesterday

2007-12-14T22:37:00.000-05:00

Okay... momentous news...

Ready?

I DID IT!!!!! I weigh 130 pounds!!!!!!!!!

I weighed in at 130 this evening, and I could hardly believe it. I even did a stupid little dance in front of the scale, naked as a freaking jaybird, right there in the middle of the gym locker room. No one seemed to mind, actually. Not that I would have cared anyway, because I WEIGH 130 POUNDS!!!!

Holy crap. That means I've lost over 100 pounds since I came to New York, back in the summer of 2005. Ah, but it's the little things that I'm enjoying about the new me. For instance:

to be able to cross my legs...
to run for a few miles, and, more importantly, go up a couple of flights of stairs, and not feel like I'm about to die...
to wear a size small in just about everything...
to get the towels at the gym to wrap all the way around me...
to take up less space when I sit down on the subway...
to wear tall boots zipped up over jeans...
to wear short skirts...
to wear my hair back without worrying about my face being too fat for it...
to wear the coats I've kept for years because I loved them so much and finding them too big for me now...
to have skinny people talking to me and including me in skinny people talk...
having to wear my engagement ring as my wedding ring because it's the only ring I own that fits...
catching my reflection now and then and freaking out a little because I don't recognize me (no, seriously)...
not being recognized by my own husband when he's looking for me in a crowd...
not being fat anymore!

So tonight, John and I are pulling a late night at the office, working on papers like we do every December. We had our 9th wedding anniversary yesterday, which was very low key, especially since I'd pulled an all-nighter the night before and he was overwhelmed with work all that day. Basically, we did a gift exchange, watched a little TV, and fell over dead asleep. to be honest, it was lovely, and I have no complaints. We're going to do some fun stuff when we finally get some free time, which will be when we're in texas next week, so no worries about doing something momentous. For now, there's work to do. that, and I have a race tomorrow, which is why this is a late night rather than an all-nighter. the Holiday 4-miler in Central Park will be a cold morning run, but I think I'll be okay, since I have a warm shell and some long running tights that should take care of the weather issue. If there's anything I'm looking forward to, it's seeing what people back in Texas say when they see us... John looks like a freaking muscle-bound rock star, and I look like I went to the store and bought a hell of an upgrade.

Yeah. This ought to be fun.

End-of-semester... the usual

2007-12-11T00:18:00.001-05:00

Man, but it's one hell of a crunch this year! Not only is it conveniently the end of the school semester at the same time as my ninth wedding anniversary (which means we can do absolutely nothing fun on the day), but we're also on the verge of going back to Texas for about three weeks, and that's always a little stressful. For starters, I have to take the cat to the vet so he can be cleared for takeoff, or so they can prove he's not a terrorist or somesuch. Then, I have to make sure we actually have luggage. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I still have no clothing that fits, since the clothes I most recently bought seriously don't fit me anymore. I put on a pair of size 5/6 jeans from this ultra-cheap store in the Bronx that I bought, like, a month ago at the longest, and sure enough, they were so big that I could take them off without undoing them. Great. I mean, yes, great, I'm losing weight, I'm smaller than I think I've ever been and still healthy. But seriously... I need clothes. Anyway, I'm only two pounds away from goal... TWO POUNDS!!! After that, it's time to go into transition and maintenance, and that's a whole different scariness. I'm going to be eating normal food again, and I'm a little nervous about it, but John tells me he's going to coach me through it, since what he's doing is basically a modified version of what I'll be working toward dietarily. Okay, fine. So I have support. I won't lie, though... it's still scary.

I just ran another race this past weekend, the Joe Kleinerman 10K. This was actually the lonest race I've run so far, but it wasn't too bad, considering that I run that same loop of Central Park at least once a week. I've also just begun a new training regiment for running my first marathon, but it hasn't really gotten difficult yet, so I'm not struggling. Then again, I know that's just around the corner, so I'm sort of preparing myself for it emotionally. I've been talking to people who've run marathons before, and I think I'm on the right track with my training schedule. (I got it from a trainer from Medifast, actually, and it looks like it'll get me running the right distances in less than four months... cool.) I have another race coming up this Saturday, the Holiday 4-miler, which is also at Central Park... seriously, these are great fun, and I recommend them to any able-bodied whoever that doubts themselves even a little bit. Trust me, you'll thank me if you take my advice. Go find a 5K or something and just run it.

I have an audition in about a week, too. I'm nervous, but not realy, mainly because I don't expect anything to come of it. Still, it's one of those things that I've been meaning to do, and I'd just feel silly if I don't at least give it a shot. More on that later. Meanwhile, I have two papers due in two days, a third paper due next week, a bunch of homework to grade for the lab I teach, an assignment for psychometric theory that I pretty much decided was written in a bizzare form of sanskrit, and an anniversary that I feel the need to make a little more special than just another day at school. I'm busy. Healthy, happy, etc, etc... just busy, and wanting very much to catch my breath.

Actually, maybe I just did.

Providing pictoral evidence

2007-11-24T22:16:00.000-05:00

Not that I don't think anyone believes me, but I thought it would be helpful to prove my recent running bug has really been genuine. By the way, no, I don't wear the same yellow hoodie to every race... just to these, my first and third. The second one involved a TOTALLY different outfit. Or at least a different hoodie. Whatever. It's cold out, and at least I kept warm. Here, then, are a couple of pictures of me at a couple of races and the stuff they gave me while I was there:

This one is at the finish line of the Polan Spring 5-mile Marathon Kick-off. The gloves I'm wearing were a gift they gave us at the race, which was really nice of them, considering how freaking cold it was. I'm also wearing a race t-shirt under the hoodie, compliments of the race organizers.

This is right after finishing the Prospect Park Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning, another 5-mile one...

And check it out... the fools gave me a bag AND a medal! No t-shirt at this one, but hey... it's a pretty nice bag. And let's not overlook the significance of the medal!

The second race I ran, the "Race to Deliver," was on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and it was a 4-mile race. They gave me a t-shirt (long-sleeved this time... gotta love the variety), and I should have a picture from that one soon, if anyone cares. Next up is the Joe Kleinerman 10K, on December 9th. Maybe there'll be a race to run in Texas while we're there, so I don't get bored! Anyway, there you have it... I run.

Okay, okay, I'm back already!

2007-11-21T14:45:00.000-05:00

Sorry about being gone, but hey... I actually got THAT busy. The short of it: lots and lots and lots of school work, rehearsals, got sick for a second, and lost more weight. So there you go.

Ah, the weight... I'm about nine pounds awy from my goal!!! That's right, people... I'm smaller now than I've been at any point in my adult life... that is, if I'm an adult yet. Nine pounds. The plan is to lose those last nine pounds by the time we go back to Dallas. I think it's doable, but I'm not worried about it if I don't get there. I mean, I'm in the freaking 130s now, even if it's 139, so I'm not complaining. Besides, I'll get to 130 before too long, and I don't mind cutting myself a break over the holidays. I've learned how to maintain my weight and choose the right foods to eat, when to eat, how often to eat, and so on. This diet has been, for lack of a better way to put it, one of the best things that's ever happened to me. John's even using the stuff, although not in the same way... more in the way that I'll be using it in a couple of months, for maintenence and supplement to regualr food. But yeah... I've lost 61 poinds in 5 months. I am trully cool.

On that note, I need new clothes. I have a couple of coats now, which is good, beause it's getting pretty cold now. I'm also running a lot now, and will be running my third race tomorow, a 5-mile Turkey Trott as Prospect Park on Thanksgiving morning. Before that, I ran the Poland Spring 5-mile Marathon Kickoff, and last Sunday I ran the Race to Deliver, a 4-miler... both of those were at Central Park, so it was familiar territory. In a couple of weeks, I have another race, but I don't remember what it is at the moment. Point is, I run more now. Hopefully, when I get back on a regular diet, I'm going to start marathon training, especially since I automatically qualify for the NYC Marathon if I run enough qualifying races during the year (I've already run two, so I'm on my way)... Who'd have thunk it, right?

I'm off, then... John and I have some errands today, before Thanksgiving at Aunt jenny's tomorrow. Just wanted to pop in and give an update, and promise that I won't stay away that long from the blog again... I mean it!

Happy Birthday to Me!

2007-10-17T21:19:00.000-04:00

Obviously, I've been too busy for my own good, or you would have heard from me in the last month. Just so you know, though, I'm still out here, and it's my birthday, so yeay. More later... PROMISE!!!

So I've been busy

2007-09-18T23:19:00.001-04:00

And I'm sorry for neglecting the blog. No doubt everyone's lives went on anyway. Briefly, I'll fill you in, in case you care.

I've been working on random school crap pretty much non-stop, which is always good for completely sucking up one's day, or one's week, or one's youth. I've been spending long stretches in my new office, working on all sorts of meaningless things, coming up for air now and then just to see what time of day it looks like outside. Strangely enough, I'm not bothered by it... noice the fact that I'm not exactly complaining. I'm being productive, and I'm not running behind on anything. As a matter of fact, I've been ahead of schedule on my assignments for the past two weeks, which may well be a first in my entire academic career. I've also been doing goofy things like using books like "Phenomenology and Psychological Research" as subway pleasure reading... and finding it pleasurable.

What the hell is happening to me?

Fine, so I'm a nerd. Always have been. Ask anyone who's known me for any length of time. But seriously... this is pretty bad, even for me. I mean, I'm a nerd, sure, but a COOL one. I still have a social life, still have friends, still know how to color coordinate my clothing and tie my shoes. Now I'm keeping office hours and doing work in said office. A lot. Am I supposed to keep this up? What's creepy, of course, is that I think I like it enough to actually try.

Oh, and as for the weight loss... I'm now at 157 pounds, as of this past Sunday. That's 41 pounds since mid June. Holy crap! But don't worry, because it's not all so great... I have no clothing now, and look like an idiot for having to pull my pants up every ten seconds (don't even say it... putting a belt on just makes me look like a clown in oversized cinched pants). If anyone's got some spare money lying around, please consider making a contribution to my clothing fund. Oh... and buy my CD.

And we're back

2007-09-08T12:10:00.000-04:00

The first week back at school was, to say the least, exhausting. I forgot how much I do! Jeeze, I also forgot how little food I'm eating now, or at least how few calories I'm consuming with each meal. That's the other thing, though... I keep having to remind myself to eat constantly, which is definitely proving to be a formidable challenge. Every two to three hours? Jeeze, that's tough. Not only that, but I have this giant water bottle that I carry everywhere. I'm sort of like a high-tech camel or something. So far, so good, though... I'm certainly not falling over from exhaustion... though I'm exhausted. One thing's for sure: I may have never slept better in my whole life than I do lately.

When duty calls

2007-09-01T18:30:00.000-04:00

In other words, I didn't feel I had a choice. I was all set to go see a show with Miraj in the city. We hadn't decided what show... we were just going to stand in line and see what tickets there were. As I'm getting ready to leave, I get a phone call, and I don't recognize the number. I answer, and it's my department chair. I figure it's something to do with my thesis, but no... it's an invitation to go with him, his son, and a friend, to the Giants/Jets preseason game that evening. Well, gee, let me see...

How do you say no, even when it's this random? It's my department head, for crissake! Naturally, I stammered a yes, then called Miraj and explained. Of course, he understood, as he would have certainly done the same thing if in my position, and graciously gave me a raincheck on going to a show. After that, I took a train to go meet them for the game, and we drove to the stadium. the game was fine... it was what it was, and being that I'm a Giants fan (when I'm not looking out for the Cowboys), I really only paid attention to the first half, when the first string players were up. Eli Manning was in good form, and they finished the half ahead of the Jets. Yeah, so they officially lost the game, but the second half didn't count... stupid second stringers.

On the weight loss front, things are great... I have an official weigh-in tomorrow, and I'm expecting to be around 162, maybe lower. Whatever... I'm perfectly happy with that. John and I have been running a good bit, which I'm enjoying, particularly since we've been having such great weather. As soon as it gets colder around here, things are going to be different running-wise. New clothing will be in order, I'm sure. Oh, and John's contemplating running a half marathon in a couple of weeks. I want to, but I think it would be pushing it... I've run the "big loop" at Central Park twice now, which is six miles, but that's nothing near the 13 miles that are entailed in a half marathon. Granted, John hasn't run that far in a stretch yet, either, but he's certainly in better shape to do it at this point. Anyway, we're both going to train for it, even if one or both of us doesn't run it. I'm not going to be ready in time, of course, but it wouldn't hurt to pretend, right?

School is starting up next week. I think I'm ready. I've been moving into my new office (which I'll be sharing with Miraj and a new student... it'll be big enough for sure, and it'll be nice to have the company), and work on the conference website is chugging along. Classes, as usual, will just happen, and I'll work through them like I always do. Now I just wish they'd hurry up and start... I kind of want to get on with the year already!

One week to go

2007-08-27T14:39:00.000-04:00

And then it's back to the grind. Ah, well... it was bound to happen, right? I have this week to finish up work on the conference website, the final copy of my thesis, and preparations for teaching my new lab for Dr. Malcolm's research methods course. Lovely. And to think I was missing being busy. Okay, maybe I lied, just a little.

John actually has class today. While Fordham doesn't begin classes until next week, John's program runs as a consortium with NYU and CUNY, so the courses he takes there abide by the academic calendars for those schools. Hence, CUNY's first day being today meant that today is also John's first day. Fun. Actually, I think it rather is. For him, anyway. The class is on Catullus, who John is kind of a freak about and has read pretty extensivelly over the past several years. Needless to say, he's feeling confident about the material, so he's been looking forward to the class since, I don't know, forever. I don't think he's ever had a strictly Catullan course before, so this should be fun for him. As for his other two courses, I think they start up next week, so they're not on his mind in the least. He also gets started on teaching his two Latin I sections next week, too, which should be the equivalent of taking a nap for this guy.

Now that John's gotten things rolling, I'm starting to feel a little strange, as though I'm falling behind. I don't think I really am, but I have a sense that I should be hurrying up with something, or getting something set up and ready, or SOMETHING! I'm doing what I can... I've been reading over materials for my teaching gig, getting a head start on reading a couple of texts for my upcoming corsework... you know... nerdy stuff. Strangely, it hasn't given me the fix I've been looking for. What else can I do? At this point, doing any more preparation would be guesswork, and I'd hate to do anything that will serve no purpose at all in the long run. I suppose I'll just keep on keepin' on, the way I have been, during this next week, and see what happens. Chances are, this odd anxiety will pass in a couple of days, and I'll be fine with what I'm up to. I just wish I could hurry up and get there, to that state of mind where I'm comfortably busy, knowing what I'm doing and why, with a foreseeable outcome somewhere in sight.

On the bright side, there's the weight loss. How can I NOT talk about the weight loss? I'm at 165 now, which is nuts. I am literally at a loss when I look in the mirror sometimes, not because I'm such a vision or anything, but because I'm having a hard time coping with the fact that NONE OF MY CLOTHES FIT. What the hell am I supposed to do? I have a week before classes begin, and I'm down to two, maybe three complete outfits, none of them particularly spectacular. In fact, I think I'm down to one pair of jeans, completely out of slacks, running very thin on skirts and dresses, and slowly picking off shirts. My bras don't even fit anymore! This is getting pretty serious... I may have to learn how to alter clothing or something, because there's no way I'll be able to financially handle a full replenishment of my wardrobe. I'll be honest... I didn't think this would be a ploblem. Hell, I didn't think this diet would work, and certainly not this quickly! In nearly ten weeks (it'll be ten weeks tomorrow), I've gone down 33 pounds, and I'll likely drop a few more in the next week before school starts up. I'm thrilled, sure, but COME ON!!!

That's another thing. I'm bracing myself for the reactions I'm bound to get from people when school starts. It's strange; part of me wants people to act as if I look the same, as if nothing's happened, just so I can avoid the weird questions and comments... but then I also know that I'll be a little freaked out if no one says ANYTHING. Naturally, the weight loss shows... I don't care how big you are, you don't lose thirty-some pounds and not see a physical difference. Still, to hear absolutely nothing from anyone would be strange. It's not that I want things to go either way, but I want to at least be prepared for whatever comes. I suppose that's part of the reason I'm worried about clothing at the moment. At the very least, I'd like to look like a normal person in clothing that fits realtively well, rather than someone who's just melted right there in their own clothes. That would just make me look unhealthy, I think. Who knows... maybe I'll figure something out in the next week. On the bright side, John's pretty much replaced his closet with properly fitting clothes, or at least enough of the basics to get by on... several pants and shirts, a new belt... so he'll be fine for a couple of months. We'll have to see what's in store for the sad state of my clothing as the week progresses. Looks like I'll be wearing lots of Target and K-Mart clothes if I want anything soon!

I've been tagged with the "4 List"

2007-08-24T16:59:00.000-04:00

Thanks, Chrissie, for roping me into this... I'll get you somehow...

4 things about me you may not have known:
1. I've always wanted to be a dancer, and I have't given up completely.
2. I used to hate cats on principle. Now I love mine, but mostly because he's virtually a dog anyway.
3. I have a birthmark that looks like a hickey. I've gotten into arguments with a few boyfriends over that one.
4. Someday, I want to be the president of something really cool.

4 Jobs I've Had:
1. Texas Girls Chior choreographer
2. Night club bouncer
3. Putt Putt counter girl
4. Cleaning bathrooms and serving drinks at a pool hall

4 Movies I can watch over and over again:
1. The Color Purple
2. Harry Potter Series
3. Taladega Nights
4. Star Wars Episodes 3, 4, 5, and 6

4 Favorite TV shows:
1. Big Love
2. Burn Notice
3. House
4. Heroes

4 Favorite Hobbies:
1. Playing new musical instruments
2. Fencing
3. Running/working out
4. Writing

4 Places I have lived:
1. Texas
2. Venezuela
3. California
4. New York

4 Favorite Foods:
1. Seafood
2. Mushrooms
3. Indian
4. Sushi

4 Places I would rather be right now:
1. Living in Manhattan instead of just outside it
2. London
3. Rome
4. Paris

4 Websites I check daily:
1. CNN.com
2. WWTDD.com
3. My friends' blogs
4. Yahoo Weather

4 People I tag:
1. John
2. Kim(bie)
3. Molly
4. Kathryn

Yeah, yeah, I know

2007-08-20T02:43:00.001-04:00

... so I've been negligent about the blog again, and I'm sorry about that. Here... I'll fill you in.

John had his birthday on the 12th, so we celebrated in broke-ass style. Really, we had a great time. We just had to be especially economical about it. We set a budget so he could buy new clothes, then did a little shoping, after which we went to dinner at Rosa Mexicana, one of his favorite restaurants in the city. Of course, we don't just do birthdays... we do birthday weeks. All week long, John has been entitled to certain niceties, such as my doting on him far more than I'm accustomed to (and he's been gracious about it, careful not to rub it in, thankfully... for his sake). As for the clothes purchaces in spite of being broke, there was really no way around that. I've been on a crazy diet, sure, and it's working like a charm, but John's also been doing his share of work to lose a few pounds. A couple of days before his birthday, we did a general clothing and coat inventory, just to see how many of our clothes still fit. To our surprise, almost NONE of John's clothes fit him anymore... he was literally out of jeans, jackets, and dress shirts, and was down to two pairs of pants, both of them casual. We're happy that he's doing this, but man, losing weight's been pretty expensive. My clothes, on the other hand, can wait, as far as I'm concerned. After all, I'm not even half way to my goal, and I still have a few items that will work for now. Granted, they're mostly amorphous dresses or certain items that don't look too bad even though they're loose, but at least I have clothes to wear, which is more than I could say for John.

That leads me to the weight loss thus far. John's gotten down to below 200 pounds for the first time since... jeese, I don't know, maybe seven or eight years. My numbers, though, are something to behold. I haven't been this weight in about a decade, maybe longer. Currently, I'm at an even 170... that's 30 pounds I've lost in 9 weeks! And trust me, I'm not stopping any time soon; I've got 40 more pounds to go before my goal is reached, and I think I can get there by December. By the time my birthday rolls around (that's October 17th, for all you gift-givers), I hope to be in the 150s, a land I haven't been to since... let's see... well over a decade. I think I may have been in the 150s when I got married, so yeah, that was almost ten years ago. To be honset, I don't even remember what that's like, being that size. I'm already a little overwhelmed as it is, being able to fit into clothing I never dreamed of putting on just a couple of months ago. Weird. I went out with a few friends about a week ago for a birthday celebration, and everyone seemes genuinely impressed. Maybe they were just being polite, but they seemed to think the weight loss was showing. Then again, thirty pounds is bound to show, right? Anyway, this is awesome. School starts up in just under three weeks, and I should be down another ten pounds or so by then. Have I mentioned that I love this freaking diet?

Of course, I'm doing this to be healthier, no question. John and I have been running in Central Park almost every day now, something I couldn't do before when I was heavier. I definitely have more energy in general, my knees don't bother me anymore, my back hurts less, and I think my snoring has almost gone away completely (according to John, who is entirely too happy about that). So yeah, goody. But let's face it... there's a lot more to this weight loss business than health. And no, it's not just vanity. Anyone rememeber that whole rock star thing I've been working on? Well, I'm not as believable as a performing artist when I'm fat, apparently. Say what you will about talent being the most important thing, and determination, and keeping hope alive, and going from show to show trying to sell your album, and all of that crap. Trust me... no one really cares about listening to the fat girl sing her little songs, sad as that seems. I can't begin to tell you how often I've heard people give me compliments like, "Wow... if you were a bit thinner, you could really have a career," or, "Ever thought of sticking to just being a recording artist for now?" I've learned to take these as compliments because, well, let's face it... these people are right. Some folks may listen to the fat girl, but they're usually other fat girls who can't give me a record deal, and no one seems to think there's much good in catering to the fat girl demographic anyway. In short, I'm doing this for my career. Plain and simple. Frankly, I don't think there's much better reason than that for me. I mean, I'm doing what I can for my health... I have new doctors now, and they're taking care of me pretty well. I'm also exercising intelligently, eating carefully measured meals, and sleeping better than I have in years. I think I'm on the right track, if you ask me. Meanwhile, check me out in December.

Speaking of rock star stuff, I'm back on the open mic circuit, and I intend on going full steam for the next couple of weeks until school starts. Why not, right? That also means I need to update my artist website, so I'll let everyone know when that's done. For now, I'll send out emails when it's important. The web site should be new and improved in about a week, assuming all goes according to plan... hell, maybe I can get it done sooner. The point, though, is that I think I've picked up momentum from before, since a couple of weeks ago when I didn't feel like I was getting anything done. I've finished the final draft of my thesis... now I'm just waiting for my co-mentors to get back to me on any revisions, if there are any left (my guess is that I'm done, or extremely close to it). I also have a website project that I've got to finish up, as well as some prep work for the new lab I'm teaching this fall (research methods... good times). I think I'm taking it all in stride, though, and that's a good feeling. Whether or not it makes any sense, I'm giving full credit to the diet. I mean, it's the reason for so many other good things going on for me, so why not these as well? Thanks, diet... I owe you one.

Hunting for motivation

2007-08-05T00:23:00.000-04:00

Ideas, anyone? I have things to do, and I can't seem to get myself to get them done. This is a general problem, so it's not just one thing that I'm neglecting, but a whole slew of important things. Ugh. So yeah... someone inspire me to greatness, please. That's all.

What happened to the summer?

2007-08-01T01:48:00.000-04:00

I went to Florida for a few... sorry about the absence. Anyway, back now, with pictures and everything. I can also report that I'm down 20 pounds since starting the MediFast diet about six weeks ago, so that's going well. Now that I'm back, I'm looking over the edge of my summer, and I'm starting to wonder where it all went. Ugh... I'm not ready for it to be over. Sorry, but I don't mind relaxing, and I know what's waiting for me in September, so I'm not exactly enthused about the begining of the fall semester. On the bright side, people will probably have nice things to say about my rather sizable change in appearance, but aside from that, I still don't want to go back just yet. Then again, it's still a full month away... maybe I'll change my mind by then. In the meantime, here are some pics from the Florida excursion.

It's like they're twins or something... really uncanny...

Awww... this, by the way, was the night of Sam and Asha's engagement.

Luckily, these guys missed the subtle implications of this photo.

Tatoos are grody. So is long hair and motorcycles. I'm screwed.

Econfina Creek during our canoing trip.

What? John took the last hamburger patty? I think Bob's getting a little green and muscular... and you wouldn't like him when he's angry.

And here's Chuck, on the phone. He did this a lot.

Ah... some peace and quiet for me to ruin.

A new take on marriage convention

2007-07-16T15:26:00.000-04:00

There are things you know to expect during periods of weight loss, especially when you're losing four or five pounds a week. For one, clothes begin to fit differently, which is certainly always a welcome change. You also see the numbers on the scale going down, of course, and it keeps you going better than just about any other incentive. Some things, however, don't really become problematic till you get there. My wedding ring, for instance. The original is long gone, stolen backstage while I was singing with Dallas Opera. Oh, well... I'm still married, last I checked. I got a second one to replace it, but only temporarily, so my heart wasn't really attached to it. This was a good thing, since it, too, was stolen. I'm lucky that way. For a couple of years, I wore fakes, ridiculous baubles that I thought were fun and served the purpose of living on the left ring finger. When John moved to New York, He got me a new one, a lovely ring that fit perfectly, and, like the others, not in any way a conventional wedding ring. Why on earth would I want a conventional one, anyway? I love it, and I never take it off.

And now, one month since starting my super bad-ass diet, I'm down almost 20 pounds and moving merrily along toward my goal. About a week ago, I started noticing that the new wedding ring was slipping, and a couple of times I nearly lost it down a drain or two. Finally, I started wearing it on my middle finger. Since it doesn't exactly look like a wedding ring, it's not so strange-looking there. Still, now I don't have a "wedding ring" on. Weird. So then, do I go back to wearing a fake ring until my weight settles down and I can get ANOTHER new real one? Do I get one of those weird ring pads and stick it on the back on the current ring? Or do I just perpetrate a fraud and let my left hand lead the single life?

It doesn't seem like a big deal, and really, it isn't. I notice it, though, every couple of minutes, and it's a little strange every time. I mean, it's not like I'm worried about getting hit on or anything. I've lost weight, but not so much that I'm irresistable. So it's not like I need to wear the ring on the appropriate finger as some kind of deterrant to the world of single and searching... please. No, it's just strange. it makes me think of the degree to which things are going to be changing for me as I get smaller. I remember what it was like to be a single-digit clothing size, and yes, I was treated differently. I know I'll be treated differently again when I get there, and seeing the progress I've made so far, I'm certain without a doubt that I'm actually going to get there. Have I mentioned how freaking incredible this diet is, by the way? Eating every two to three hours, the food being versatile and suprisingly tasty... I gotta tell ya, it's almost too good to be true, given my results. I've never been bashful about disclosing my weight, even at my heaviest. When I moved to New York, I weighed a whopping 234 pounds. Sure, I didn't look it, but there I was. A year later, I had dropped down to 198, but I stayed there until about a month ago. That's when I started the Medifast program, and now I'm down to 181. I'll take it, and then some.

We're going to be in Florida for a few days to visit John's stepdad, and I've been dreading the trip, for obvious reasons. Bathing suits are the devil. I had a goal of being in the 170's by the time I left... 179 counts, right? Besides, I'm going to stay on the plan while I'm out there, so I'm not worried about falling off the wagon or anything. For now, though, I'm focusing on getting down to 179 before getting on the plane this Friday. At the rate I'm going, it's actually feasible. Holy crap... I haven't been in the 170's in YEARS!!! Whew... I don't want to jynx it... still, as soon as the weight loss is more noticeable, you'll be seeing pictures up here (speaking of which... John and I took fat pictures yesterday... ugh... that was hard). At this point, I want to be in the 160's by the time school starts in early September. I can do it, right? Jeeze, I'm going to be an entirely new freaking person! Finally, I want to be in the low 150's by my birthday in mid October. Anybody notice my enthusiasm? On top of all this, I've started running in Central Park and my knees no longer hurt (figures... funny what a difference fifteen pounds can make on your joints). I've ALWAYS wanted to be one of those people who goes jogging in Central Park? I mean, who really DOES that?

Well, me, apparently.

Happy We're-not-British-anymore Day!

2007-07-04T18:07:00.000-04:00

Nothing against the British, mind you. In fact, I wanna go back to England more than I can say. Soon enough, I'm sure... as long as we keep adding to the travel fund on top of the fridge, there's always hope. Meanwhile, we celebrate our independence, and I celebrate this awesome freaking diet. Just a little over two weeks since I began, and I'm already down fourteen pounds. By the time school start up again, I'm going to be an entirely different person at this rate.

I think I'm going to be playing an open mic next week, but I'm not sure when or where. I should be more focused about these things, sure, but I'm rather enjoying my first lazy bit of summer so far, and I don't want to screw it up. besides, I want to spend some time writing new music, and that doesn't happen as well when I'm making myself too busy. See? I can still be productive AND lazy. Call it a gift.

It just figures

2007-06-30T11:42:00.000-04:00

I'm happy to report that I'm officially done with teaching my summer lab and taking my summer course. I taught my last lab this past Monday, and I finished my paper and took my final exam. Done and done. So I'm free for the summer, right?

Yeah. Keep dreaming.

The day after my final, the day after turning in my paper, the first day of absolute summer freedom... I got an email from my thesis mentor. Apparently, my thesis is good, but it needs one more revision before I'm in the clear with it. Lovely. So now I'm going to spend the next two or three weeks working on that blasted thing AGAIN. I don't know... I did harbor some little secret hope that my last revision would be the keeper. Well, not really. I'm not THAT much of an optimist. On the bright side, at least they seem to like it well enough, save a few things here and there that need "clarification." More like "defend what it is you just said here so that we run out of questions about it." Sure... fair enough... I can do that.

Okay... but at least give me a couple of days to breathe! I'm taking some tme off, at least until after the July 4th holiday. My friend Donnie is coming in from Dallas for a few days, and we're going to the Morrissey concert tonight. Woohoo! the junior high kid inside of me is DYING to put on white face powder and black eye shadow so I can look fierce and dark and misunderstood by my parents. Ugh... I wanna go back to England. Anyone feel like giving to the cause? I know, I know... go out and sing for your supper, or your bangers and mash, or whatever. Right. I'll do another open mic tomorrow. Maybe I'll sell a CD, or manage to show some leg for a dollar. BUY MY CD, PEOPLE!

Disconcerting peanut gallery

2007-06-24T20:33:00.000-04:00

Since this past Tuesday, I've started a new diet. I'm not usually a fan of dieting, nor a proponent for other people to diet, but I decided I'd give it a try, since it's a sure thing. It's not been easy, but it's working; I've continued to work out, and I'm following the diet as perfectly as anyone possibly could. So far, I've dropped 5 pounds, and it just keeps going. If I can keep this up, I'll be able to lose my goal amount of 60 pounds by my birthday in October. I'm determined to do this, to lose it and keep it off. After all, I managed to keep the weight off that I've lost so far, since moving to New York. What's it been, forty pounds? Yeah... so what's 60 more? I've got over a month of food lined up and ready to go, and I'm feeling really good about this. John's been supportive, and has also made his own dietary adjustments as a result of seeing my success thus far (granted, not to the extremes that I'm taking, but still being more conscious of things). Anyway, I'm pumped.

Right. So I tell my friends, because that's what you do when you're pumped about something, yeah? And, strangely, I've gotten little support. One has outright told me that I'm just going to gain it all back. Another has said, slightly less insultingly, that at least I'll have whatever brief time I manage to look amazing. Jeeze, what the hell did I do to deserve this? Do I have some kind of cop-out reputation? Do my friends have no faith in me? Oh, sure, people get on these diets and lose weight, then gain it back, sometimes all of it. So this means I'm, going to fail? COME ON! Seriously, I thought my friends knew me better than that. I'm capable of this, damn it. Can't I just get a little support?

I know, I know... if I'm so determined, why don't I just do it the old fashioned way? Why go the low calorie, special dietary route? Well, for starters, I am metabolically challenged, even more so that most all women seem to think they are. Not having a thyroid gland has something to do with it. I lost the weight when I got to New York because dietary and activity changes were so drastic that I finally got the metabolic boost I needed. Now, though, I've hit one hell of a plateau. Truth is, I've been doing things the "old fashioned way" for a year now, working harder han I ever have on my food and in the gym, all with no change. Therefore, it's time for another boost, another major change. It's healthy, and I'm being monitored, so I'm not starving myself or anything. So there you go.

I have to ask... where's the love? Where's the support? Yeah, I've got John on my side, and my mom's been awesome about it, but what about my friends, those who've supported me in everything else? At least everyone thinks I'll lose the weight. Still, can't you guys give me achance before condemning me to failure? Let me get slim first... then I'll worry about keeping it off. Until then, give me a break. Better yet, give me the benefit of the doubt, and remember who you're dealing with here.

Just wondering

2007-06-13T21:13:00.000-04:00

I sometimes get the feeling that I'm simply not living up to my potential. I suppose we all do now and then, and to varying degrees of self-loathing. As for me, I'm feeling a little stagnant, that's all. I have one of those lists... I think lots of people make them... filled with things that I want to do before I either can't do things anymore or die. So far, I've managed to get through a few, and I'm in the process of three or four rather big items. So what about the things whose time has simply passed on, and I've no hope whatsoever of achieving? Does that make me a loser destined to living with regret? Or, maybe even worse, am I actually not capable of admitting that something has now, for whatever reason, drifted beyond my reach or ability?

There are a couple of things. There's fencing, for one. I don't think my dream of becoming an olympic sabre fencer will ever be realized. Or will it? No, seriously... seriously? See wha I mean? I don't think it's that ridiculous that I aim for things, even when they're a little nuts. I did, after all, give a good showing a few years back at nationals. Hell, I came in eighth, and that was only after about four months training with Florin, my coach at the time. Granted, that was a few years ago now, and I'm having trouble with my knees and my shoulders these days. If I can't work out reglarly without injury, how the hell am I supposed to train for competition? While I'm at it, how do I find the time? Ugh... so does that mean I give up? Not sure. I do keep my head in it, after all. I'm coaching the sabre team at Fordham, for what it's worth... but what is it worth? Again, not sure... I'll have to think about it.

Then there's the matter of the music degree. I'll leave it at that.

Lovely breaks, however brief

2007-06-05T21:58:00.000-04:00

... are breaks nonetheless. And lovely. So now I'm in one, and I'm doing what I can to make the most of it. I met my June 1st deadline on my thesis, so that's over and done with, thankfully. I also have myself nearly caught up with my reading for class, have begun teaching my summer lab, and am gearing up to FINALLY go back to playing open mics. First stop: Pete's Candy Store, one of my favorite Brooklyn performance venues, if for nothing more than the aesthetic. I'll be there this Sunday at 5pm, so if anyone's curious, bring it. After that, I'll make my way back into Manhattan, but there's no rush. Oh, and keep all eyes open for a link that'll let everyone buy my CD online. Until I get that all sorted out, you can contact me here or on my website, and I can send you one myself, but a downloadable version is also available, so hang on a day or two if that's your preference. Ugh... I hate this marketing crap.

I'm pleased to report that I've also reconnected with an old friend, one that I used to be intimate with to the point of codependence, one that veritably defined my daily life by simply being near me, a trustworthy friend that understands my needs better than anyone that's come along so far. We parted ways when John got here, and I thought I'd be okay, but the distance has only made me yearn all the more for the old pleasantries we used to share, times when we reveled in the lights and shadows of the world, of music, of philosophy, of the very mysteries of being. I could bear the excruciating absence no longer, and I ran like a frightened child in the dark, my arms extended before me, groping in the night of my soul in search of my truest companion. Having been reunited in a rush of wind and magic the likes of which has only been rivaled by history's deepest and most passionate loves, I feel certain we will never grow apart again.

I'm speaking, of course, of Starbucks.

Fine. So I'm a corporate shill, a pawn of the commercialist monster that stigmatizes every city block it lands on with the sad stain of capitalism, marking the world with its wreched stink as if to claim it from all things wholesome and pure. Whatever... it's tasty. Granted, many of my friends disagree with that assessment (Jane, I'm sure I'll get a lecture before too long). But there you have it, dirty though it may be. I've been back to my Starbucks habit for about two weeks now, although not quite daily... let's call it four times a week on average. That's not so bad, right? I'm not lost... and if I am, I'm happy to swim in it for a while all the same.

Meanwhile, June can get on with it, for all I care. It's July I'm looking forward to. A trip to Florida, no class to take or teach... a real break at long last. Then I can really spend some time writing new music, which I haven't been able to do for ages. June's good, but July is... well, I don't know yet. It'll be good, though. Watch.

The honeymoon virus

2007-05-28T15:43:00.001-04:00

I've been gone for a while... sorry about that. Truth is, I've been busier than I can feel comfortable admitting, and I'm not usually one to admit that I can't handle a workload, but this time I have to say that I came pretty close to throwing in the towel. The best part, of course, is that I'm nowhere near done. In a few days, my thesis is due, and I'm still working on it. I'll get it done, but it won't be fun. Meanwhile, I caught the plague, and only the most dramatic kind. But I'll get to that in a sec.

First, the small stuff. I got past my end-of-semester labors pretty cleanly... grading, papers, and so forth. Shortly after finals week, I had a conference at NYU, where I presented my thesis findings. That went really well, actually, so no complaints there. That was last week. This week, I was all set to put the finishing touches on my thesis to turn it in (and possibly get it back with more revisions, with my luck). That's when I ended up with the dreaded honeymoon virus. Ah, the good life...

I'll explain. The day after John and I got married, John came down with a case of food poisoning the likes of which the world can hardly imagine. He was a fixture in the hotel bathroom for three days, and we didn't even bother to put clothes on him... I just moved the television as close to the bathroom door as I could and ordered myself a lot of room service. At the end of it, I can't say he could possibly have loved me more. Since then, we look back on the lovely honeymoon days and laugh about the honeymoon virus. I laugh no longer. There's a place out here, just down the block and around the corner from our apartment... it's a place of evil, and it's called Crown Chicken.

Damn you, Crown Chicken. Damn you all the way down to fried chicken hell.

We had worked out hard all week. I had just had a stressfull but successfull showing at the NYU conference. John and I were on our way home from the gym and trying to think of what to eat for dinner when, as a joke, we both mentioned Crown Chicken. It was a joke, that is, until we both noticed that magical glint in one another's eyes. After some nudging, we agreed to give it a go, as a sort of celebratory indulgence. We got home, and I ate my chicken pieces while John ate his chicken strips. Oh, yeah... we had different food items, so John was spared. Somehow, I still love him. After all, he's been there. Anyway, about half an hour after our meal, the fireworks began. I'll spare you the details. All I'll say is that if you use your imagination, I promise you it was much worse.

It finally ended today. My stomach stopped cramping, I'm able to get around without feeling woozy, and I'm holding food down, although I'm keeping it down to oatmeal and bread. On the bright side, I've lost about four pounds. Bad news is that I have a lot of catching up to do in order to get my thesis done in time. Oh, and if I didn't mention it before, my summer class began last week, so I've had reading and assignments already. John's been great as the proverbial caretaker, and I'm grateful for his patience and his prompt responses to my moans and groans. So then, all is back to stable. I'm still sore, but I've got too much to get done to let that get in the way of progress. Whatever... I'm celebrating those four pounds.

No empty threats here

2007-05-05T16:05:00.000-04:00

I told you, John... it's going in the blog.

We were having a good day. A great day, actually. John and I had met up with Russ after months of not seeing him. We spent some time walking around. Somehow, we ended up in the West Village, mostly because John had never really been there and Russ is great for showing off the city. Once we got out there, before going to dinner, we happened upon this great antique store, full of all kinds of fantastic stuff for antiquity nerds. John spent a good long time with some of the swords, I stared at the provincial Roman and Greek coinage, and we both looked at some of the Roman glass items this guy just hapened to have lying around. Mind you, all these items were hundreds and hundreds of dollars, of course, but that never stops us from looking, nor from being stupid enough to go through the trouble of doing some rough math in our heads and exchanging that "sure, we can afford it" look before pausing, shaking our heads, and moving on to the next wonderful thing we can't afford. The owner of the store noticed our interest (how could you not), an the fact that we were throwing around some antiquity-specific vocabulary, so he engaged us in some conversation and ended up showing us the most incredible manuscript. I don't know how old it was, but it was old, full of koptic writing, and comprised of pages made of some kind of skin and bound in wood. Incredible. Anyway, we'll be going back soon, with books in hand... I want to look up some of those coins.

At any rate, we then went to dinner, and had great conversation and reasonably good food with our absolutely crappy service. It was fun, though, so I'll let that slide. After that, we were waiting to cross a street, during which point we were in the middle of some ridiculous conversation about Spider Man and whether we had hope for the new movie being any good. John, with his vast geek knowledge of comic books, felt the need to speak very loudly (What? John speaks loudly? Surely not...) about the first appearances of different characters from Spider Man, including which number of which comic was in question, even which frame of a comic book page. Anyway, some tool standing on the corner next to us overheard John, and decided he just HAD to chime in with his goober knowledge about the topic. Then proceeded a brief yet painful diatribe about the first appearance of Sandman being in Amazing Spider Man number something-or-other, where this, that, and the other happened, and how that was a certain time frame apart from the first appearance of Doc Oc, in Amazing Spiderman number who-the-hell-cares.

Now, I want to make something very clear at this point. I enjoy comic books. I read certain ones when I've heard good things about them, but I'm certainly no super-enthusiast. John, on the other hand, harbors a dark past of actually being in the comic business, so his knowledge is a little disgusting. Besides, my roommate Jane is also big into comics, but it's just cute when she does it. when John gets all comic-ee, he makes you feel kind of stupid, even if you're not into comics. It's a talent of his... not only being incredibly smart at something, but making you painfully aware that you're not. He doesn't do it on purpose or anything, but it happens. So, back to the story. John responded to the idiot on the corner with another geeky comic question, and the guy didn't know the answer, so he instanty ignored us and, ashamed of his geek inferiority, threw himself into what may have been a fake phonecall on his instantly opened cellphone. As we crossed the street, I reminded John jokingly that if he was going to talk about these things in public, he had to be careful about the volume at which he chose to do so, or else this very sort of thing would happen, and, worse, others in his company would have to be subjected to the ensuing idiotic conversation with whatever ass of a person decided to jump in, just as the idiot on the corner just HAD to. I ended with, "That's it... this is going in the blog!"

So there you go. I made good on it.

On the bright side, things are calming down a little... John and I are both half-way through the end-of-semester rush, and now it's just a matter of cranking out a few papers by next week. Let the party begin.

Coming up for air, but just for a second

2007-04-18T13:46:00.000-04:00

And not because I enjoy being negligent or anything. I've just been busy... you know.... like a crazy person. I have the CD now, but I haven't had a chance to promote it because I've been running this conference, and now the conference is done, so now I can get to work on the rest of my school work, along with a possible presentation at another conference in about a month. But yeah, I'll get to promoting those CDs in just a sec. Honest.

I really need to, of course. They're just sitting in the hallway of my apartment, boxes stacked on boxes of them, and the top one is open with a few CDs missing. Lovely... what progress I'm making! All this time, all this work, all this saving up money and struggling to bring this project together, and what comes of it? Boxes stacked in my hallway???? Apparently, yes. No matter... I'll crank it up this summer, devoting most all my time to promotion of the album. Besides, what kind of an idiot would I be if I let my schoolwork falter as a result of this thing? No, I'll get to it, believe me. And I'm just as serious about it as I ever was. Just really busy, that's all.

My mom came to visit for the first time since I've been here, and she seemed to have a pretty good time. She was on her way to the Phillipines, and she's stoping by again on her way back to Texas next Monday, so I'll get a chance to show her around a little (which I didn't get to do last time, what with it being easter and all). Nothing much to report there beyond that.

Ugh. I'm lame.

No, I'm bored. Okay, and that makes me lame, I suppose. But seriously, what can I possibly do to liven things up a bit? I'll be going back to the open mic circuit in two weeks, I've been writing new music, my predoc thesis work is almost done, I finished my conference and didn't die in the process, I've completed the choir season and didn't choke on my solo, My CDs are finally complete, I haven't gained any weight back, and I've only been sick once this semester. What more could I possibly want?

Well, for starters, I have no social life whatsoever. Naturally, I blame John. Not because it's his fault on a personal level, but because it's his faul on every other level. When I'm done with my day, I want to go home to be with him. Nothing wrong with that, right? Okay, so the problem arises when we spend our time together AT HOME. It's no big secret that I like to be out and about, and he actually does, too, but our days are so long and we're so often in different parts of the city that home seems the most logical place to meet up. Ocassionally, we have dinner, or we do a little shoping, but that's about all we have time or money for. Besides, John has virtually no friends out here, and that saddens me. It's not that he's anti-social or anything. His problem is his field of study. He's a classicist. Classicists are freakishly boring and nerdy and a complete drag. Broad generalization, I know, but most classicists would agree with me on this one. At any rate, there's you're garden variety classicist, and then there's John. 'Nuff said. Anyway, he spends all his time around these people, has no interest in socializing with them, and then goes to the gym before going home. That's his world these days, in a nutshell. He says he still loves being in New York, and that he's perfectly happy with just me and some of my friends to hang out with. Still, I feel terrible about talking shop with folks from psychology or philosophy whenever he's there, becasue I don't want him to feel like the third wheel in the conversation (not that he doesn't follow what we talk about... he just finds it incredibly boring, like most living, breathing humans). Also, there are times when I go out with friends after class for a quick drink or dinner, and I know John's got nothing like that. It irks me because there's nothing to be done about it. Maybe, in time, there'll be someone cool that comes into his department. I doubt it, but I guess it doesn't hurt to hope.

Don't get me wrong... I don't feel too sorry for him. He still lives a charmed life. He teaches the classes he wants, he kicks ass in his coursework, and he stumbles onto one ridiculous oportunity after another as if he's trying to rub it in. Maybe this is nature's way of striking a balance... he gets no social life, but he does get everything else. Hmmm... that's not so bad, really. Still, I'm the sort that wants both, and I know he's the same way. Give us a month or so to work on it. Meanwhile, we'll just get through this semester before planing out our social calendar.

THE CD IS IN!!!!!

2007-04-05T22:42:00.000-04:00

That's right. So buy one. Hell, buy ten.

They arrived this evening, and they're awesome. All five hunderd of them. And I intend to sell as many of these as possible, so don't leave me hangin' , people! I'm selling them for $10.00 each, which I'm hoping won't break anybody's bank. I'll be posting more information on how to buy it as soon as I figure out the best way to distribute and market the album. For now, I'm going to set up a PayPal thing on my music website (I'll spread the word when that's done), and then we'll see how it goes. I mean, yeah, my mom is going to buy a bunch, but let's face it, that's the same thing she did back when I was a kid selling candy bars for school. (Gee... whatever happened to all those candy bars? Yeah... all you have to do is look at some of my school pictures to answer that one.)

Anyway, buy my cd.

Meanwhile, something to think about... what's with al the white people moving into my neighborhood? I'm starting to get worried about the racial climate around here, man. I mean, I get off the subway to go home at night, and moabout half of the people getting off the subway at my stop with me are WHITE??? What gives? I thought this wasn't going to be... well... THAT kind of neighborhood. This is a primarily hispanic part of town, and our area in particular is exceptionally diverse, given our proximity to the hospital, so we live around all kinds of folks from just about everywhere. But WHITE PEOPLE??? Wow... didn't see that coming. I figured I'd brought John in under the radar, but I guess somebody caught wind of it, because now it seems like there are white people out here in droves. Fine. Whatever. Let them come. It's just a little creepy, that's all. And weird. It's as if they suddenly appeared, and not just a couple, but several, in singles and pairs. Weird. John finds it a little disturbing, too, by the way. I think this makes it harder for him to feel cool and special, or to build up that much coveted street cred we all strive for. He'll make it somehow, though. I believe in him.

Buy my cd.

Time on my hands

2007-03-24T15:53:00.000-04:00

I'm busy, sure. I have my hands full with a good many things this weekend... thesis revisions, finishing touches on paperwork for financial requests for the conference, reading for next week's classes, proofreading on the most recent draft of the CASA manual, laundry... I have the next two days to do it all in, so I'd better get going. But first, there's the PlayStation 2, and sweet, sweet God of War II.

I'm no idiot. I know it's a time killer. Still, it's good fun, it's something I barely ever get to do, and damn it, I've earned it. It's been a long, stupid week, I'm mentally exhausted, and all I want is some time to chill and let my brain go a little mushy. That, and I could use a haircut. But I digress... I need some relaxation time, time to do absolutely nothing important. I need it, or I'll be just worthless. Besides, I'm finally getting over this bronchial problem, which means I can actually go out into the world and do things without having to stop every couple of minutes and bark like an angry seal. And then there's the weather... much, much better than it's been. A little wet, buta pleasant temperature that doesn't require emotional preparation to go out into. All of this considered, I think I need a little break, so I'm taking one today.

Not the whole day, of course. I'm not saying that I'm giving myself a full 24 hours of respite. No, I'll do some work tonight, but only a bit. Besides, I have church to sing at tomorrow morning, so I won't likely stay up extremely late working tonight. Then, of course, there are my dearest priorities.

God of War II. I love you very, very much.

This game is pretty fantastic. It's not easy, but it's at a level where it's not completely discouraging. It's as good as the first one, which was incredible. In fact, this one might just be a touch better, although it doesn't necessarily make any landmark improvements on the first one. It's truly awesome, though, and I highly recommend it. If you havent played it, you're missing out. Set a couple of days aside, sit in front of your TV, and play the damn thing. Oh, and pull out your laptop while you're at it and bring up a good online walkthrough, because you'll need it. but oh, the wonderful havoc you'll wreak! If you're not into violent games, more's the pitty. Get over your squeamishness and play the damn game.

There... I've said my peace... and I'm off.

There, there...

2007-03-16T10:56:00.000-04:00

Okay... I think the panic storm has blown over.

Apparently, everything has been resolved, and I'll be paying a few hundred dollars to fix it. Still worth it, though. I mean, if this guy wasn't coming to the conference, it wouldn't be nearly the event it's shaping up to be with him on the roster. Let me explain.

I thought this conference up last year, and I told a couple of people about my thoughts, namely my frined Miraj and Dr. Wertz, my qualitative advisor. Both of them thought it was a great idea, but I don't think either of them thought I was going to do anything tangible about it. Anyway, the next thing that came about was the QM (Qualitative Milieu), a reading group that a few of us decided we really needed in order to stay sharp in the realm of existential-phenomenoogical psychology. Three of us... Miraj, Azizi, and I... wanted to keep our heads in the game, having had more than our share of this sort of thing already but not finding any more of it in our other coursework (let's jut say that Fordham isn't so big on qualitative psychology). There were others who were just getting acquainted with this stuff, so they wanted more. Then there were the faculty members who were interested in these readings and how it affects psychological method, both in clinical practice and research, so they wanted in. Basically, there was enough interest, so I decided to organize the group, and we've been meeting for almost a year now. Once the group was established, I felt like I finally had a good basis for putting together a conference, and I could get the folks in the group to help out.

Sure enough, everyone wanted the thing to happen. I set out to distribute jobs here and there so I wouldn't have to deal with it on my own, and folks were happy to pitch in. Granted, there may be a moment now and then when someone drops the ball, but at least there's more of us to pick up the pieces when that happens. Anyway, I sent out a call for abstracts, having no idea whatsoever who would bite. I also reserved a few rooms at the Lincoln Center campus for one day in April... I figured this would be small, so a one-day conference would be appropriate. Dr. Wertz thought we should bring Fordham to the forefront with this conference, so we invited as many Fordham students as we could to present. For all I knew, Fordham students were probably the only people who were going to be there. So we sent out the call, and we waited. Sure enough, a good few Fordham students responded. Suprisingly, though, a few others from elsewhere seem to have had some interest. People from Tenessee, Texas, Oklahoma, North Carolina, Connecticut, California, Massachisets, New Jersey, as well as other schools in NYC... and others, too. And not only were there students who wished to present, but also faculty members from around the country... about six of them, actually. So okay, this thing got a little big a little fast. Suddenly, squeezing everyone into one day was looking like a bit of a challenge. I mean, who knew? It turns out that there really isn't a conference out there that deals with qualitative research in the human sciences. At the momnet, I'm working on promotional materials for the big day, which is April 13th (incidentally, I built a website for the conference at www.qrhsconference.com), and I've been in touch with presenters to let them know they've been accepted. Now I need to send another email to all of them to discuss specifics on each of their presentations... that's going to take a while, and I have this weekend to do it.

The reason I'm going on this way about the conference, besides the fact that I'm a little blown away by the response, is that I still have the rest of my other work to attend to. I need a break. Spring Break has been kind of a joke... I can't think of a single day during this week that I haven't been working on multiple things. The manual for CASA has been given to me for formating and editing (along with the edits for my own section), I've had reading for my classes, the conference has been relentless, and I've tried everything I could to stay afloat with my thesis follow-up (I refuse to call it a second thesis... I have some dignity left over the whole thing, after all... granted, it's getting harder to find, but it's still there). If I could just work on the conference and the CASA stuff, I think I'd be okay. But the school work on top of it is just ridiculous. I'll be honest... there are a couple of classes I'm taking that I'm truly glad I'm not having to pay for. The work we have to do in these courses is stressfull at best, and I can't say that I'm learning much of anything from them. I'm getting more out of my reading group than I am from my required courses. I'm going through the motions, checking off the list of requirements for the degree program as I go. Still, I'm not at all happy about it. Worst of all, I don't think anyone on my ADP faculty could care less about what I'm doing. All they seem to care about is this damn quantitative portion of my research (if they even care about that), and the rest is just fluff. My ADP advisor can't seem to remember that I'm doing this work with CASA or the conference... he also seems to have no recollection of the fact that he told me to bring in my University of Dallas transcript so I could arrange to have some of my masters credits transfered. When the transcript came in, he didn't know why it was there, only that I should be working on my thesis.

I have no words.

Okay, maybe a few. I choose to reserve those words, though, for another time. I'll be patient, I'll do what I must (and then some), and I'll get by in the program. At the end of all this, maybe they'll notice.

This has got to be a joke

2007-03-12T22:38:00.000-04:00

Really... this can't be right.

I've just gotten word that the big-time keynote speaker for the conference I've been planning for the last year got the date wrong for his flight to New York, so now we don't know if he'll even be here. Not happening... not happening. I gotta find a freaking happy place, or I'm gonna just lose it.

It's my spring break right now, so I should be relaxing or somesuch. Yeah... that's cute. I'm putting together a manual for a measure for the CASA project, finishing a draft of my pre-doctoral project, creating the conference promotional materials (which is now on hold until we know more about the keynote... this isn't happening, right?), and getting over the last of my stupid bronchitis.

Ugh.

Sorry. I'm sure things will be fine. I'm sure of it. I'll get the drafts done to the manual and the pre-doc, our keynote speaker will sort out the mess with his flight, and I'll eventually stop coughing.

Happy spring break, kids. Send me happy thoughts if you've got 'em.

Give me a break, already!

2007-03-04T21:05:00.000-05:00

I've gotten over a cold, only to come down with a lively case of bronchitis. Enough with the bronchitis! I've been given a round of antibiotics to take, but what good will that do me if most cases of bronchitis are viral in nature anyway? And of course, since it's bronchitis, I'm not supposed to take any kind of cough supressant, so that means I have to bark like an angry seal every few minutes, so hard that my head feels as if it'll just give way and explode. Not that I get a break from it a night... no, that's silly. I have to cough all the more at night, naturally, since I'm lying down. So sit up to sleep, right? Fine, except my back is so sore from all the coughing that it's painfull to sit up and try to get any rest, lest my lower back go numb in a very unpleasant way. Sorry about the rant... bronchitis sucks. At this point, I'm not even sure if I'll be able to make it to campus tomorrow, or if I'll be able to get on a subway without incurring the wrath of every passenger in whatever train car I'm in.

If somebody out there can fix this, hurry up already. I'm starting to forget what breathing normally is like. I'm sure the neighbors think I'm dying of consumption, what with all my frightful hacking. But seriously, someone make this go away.

Allowing for those little vices

2007-02-25T21:19:00.000-05:00

Not that it's so huge a vice, really. Thing is, I don't miss an Academy Awards. Not a chance. Even when I've been working on a night that the Oscars are taking place, I make it a point to see them anyhow. So here I am, watching the damn thing. Yeay. I'm also sick with plague of some kind, so it's not like I'm going anywhere.

Allan Arkin just won for best supporting actor. I'd have yelled for joy, of course, if I could yell. Damn this plague.

Anyway, we're getting another round of snow, but who can say if it'll be much? Besides, it's warm here, indoors, as I bask in the warm television glow. In any case, I'm sure it'll be cold and dismal tomorrow, and I'll end up feeling even more miserable than I already do. Don't care... Oscars are on.

Still, I do have a rant. Why haven't I heard from my project manager on the CD yet? I mean, I've heard from her, but not really. All I got was an email telling me that my materials had arrived safe and sound at their offices, and that they'd be getting back to me in a couple of days to let me know how the design process was going. Well, it's been four days, maybe five... where the hell is my communication from the project manager? I mean, come on! It's been a long road to get here, I've finally gotten the money together to do this thing right, and now I have to WAIT???? What more can the fates ask of me, in my weakened, plague-ridden state, besought on all sides by projects and papers and deadlines and nasal congestion and snow and LACK OF PRINTED AND PRODUCED CDS???

Who cares... Oscars are on.

Love for the cold at heart, landmarks, and all that sort of thing

2007-02-23T01:03:00.000-05:00

At the moment, I'm in the middle of doing a bunch of work, as usual. I'll be brief, then:

1) Valentine's Day was great. Colder than I'd like, but nice. John and I gave each other guitars... I got a new Taylor A/E, and John got his first A/E bass.

2) It's finally warming up a little around here, so we've been able to walk around wearing fewer layers. That may not seem like a big deal, but hey... if you ask anyone around here, it's something.

3) I'm officially about two weeks away from having my CDs (currently and officially in final production) ready for sale. Anybody interested? This, of course, means I get to go back to performing, which I miss desperately. That, and maybe I can sell some of these CDs while I'm at it, yes?

There's the short end of it... back to work.

Painful burdens of self-betterment

2007-02-13T13:56:00.000-05:00

I'll say more later... for now, I just want to report that I'm sore from working out, so my arms aren't moving so freely. Also, I've been busy beyond belief, which is hard to be given the fact that my arms can't move so much. At least my tricepts, anyway. So yeah, typing hurts, too, but not so much that I haven't been working on things. My latest goal has been to complete a website for the upcoming qualitative conference, which is coming together nicely. So far, not too shabby, but I have a lot of work to do on it. I also have a couple of papers to write, my thesis data to finish up, and tons of reading to catch up on. My eyes are drying out just thinking about the reading I have to do. Oh, and the CD... I'm sending in the materials to get it all done, so it shouldn't be but a couple of weeks before it's done at long last. That's what's missing... I really, really, REALLY miss playing gigs, and I swore I wouldn't until the damn CD was printed and ready to sell, so I'm really looking forward to that.

Three day weekend's coming... it needs to hurry up and get here, I say.

Things of beauty

2007-02-04T18:25:00.000-05:00

I just want to say that I'm relatively pleased with things right now, at least in terms of the decisions I've made over the past week. One of those decisions has a great deal to do with most everything I do every day... something I'm actually doing right now.

This past Thursday, John and I went to the gym, then thought we'd head over to the Apple store, just on the other side of Central Park from where we usually are over by Columbus Circle. John was in the market for a new case for his iPod, and I never need much of an excuse to get over there. Okay, so that ONE purchace was probably expected. What might not have been expected, though, were the backpack I got for myself (my shoulder's been killing me lately, so I thought a single-sling backpack might help a bit), two laptops, and a double jack so that John and I can plug both of our headphones into one iPod when we're on the subway (comes in handy, believe me). So yes, an eventful shoping day. And yes, that's right... we got two new laptops. John's been wanting one for ages, since his is so heavy. My computer's pretty light, but rather cumbersome... something about how the weight's distributed on the little thing. Besides, Chuck has been working on us for years to get Macs. Well, he won. We each got a brand spanking new MacBook, and they're just lovely. I mean really, really beautiful machines, these. We've been spending the last couple of days getting used to the operating system (yeah, yeah, so Vista looks cool, but it turns out we can do the same windows-layering thing with the Mac OS... tee hee), redistributing our notes from old computers to new, getting the new ones set up on the home network, etc., in addition to doing actual work. Of course, we get to do the work on the new computers, so that's nice. I haven't named mine yet, but I think I pretty much have to.

Yesterday, John and I went to the pet store. We were shoping for a new carry bag for Kyadden, but have yet to decide on which one we should get, even now. At any rate, there was a bird there, a variety of parrot called a Caique (pronounced kah-EEK) whose name is Papacito. Anyway, he's the sweetest, most wonderful bird ever, loves to cuddle, and is just gorgeous. We were two seconds away from buying him and bringing him home with us when we noticed the price, which was a little ridiculous. We went home to do a little more research, and discovered that he was priced almost double what breeders sell them for, so we had to make the tough decision of not making this particular guy part of our crew. We'll definitely be back to visit, though, until someone gives him a new home. And who knows... we might decide to contact a breeder at some point in the future and give it a try with another Caique. Still, Papacito won our hearts, no question.

There's a chance that John and I will be teaching over the summer. There's also a chance that, from June 15th through about the 30th, we'll be going to the Phillipines with my Mom to visit all those members of my family that I've only ever seen pictures of, along with about three times as many that I don't even know exist. Either way, it'll be interesting. I'm just trying to look ahead into the distance. It's hard to do in the midst of so much work... John's bogged down in the other room with translation, and I'm working on readings and research and so on. The idea that there could be some kind of chock-full-o-beauty tropical vacation waiting for us in about four months does seem to help make the current passage of time a little easier to bear. Having a tropical bird around would probably do a beeter job of it, of course, but I'll settle for this, for now.

On a sadder note, Gian Carlo Menotti died. He was 95, and composed some pretty notable stuff on the classical scene, including "Amahl and the Night Visitors" and "The Consul." I want to extend my gratitude to him for many wonderful episodes I've spent performing his music... "Sleep, my love, sleep for me..."

Just beautiful... thank you for that.

Momentum-a-go-go

2007-01-27T07:51:00.000-05:00

Okay... much better.

For a while there, I was feeling as though I'd never get the ball rolling. I'm no less busy at this point, but I've at least gotten a little... um... peppier about things. My theory is that my workout regimen is finally starting to kick in, simply enough. Go figure... to think that a silly little thing like metabolism can make such a difference. But seriously, I'm feeling much more motivated in general, which is unquestionably a welcome change in the state of things. Aside from that, there's not much new to report.

I do, however, need a backrub. A good one. And a haircut. Oh, and an extra day or two tacked on to the week. And, while I'm at it, a pony. Just call me Veruca Salt without the money.

Making headway

2007-01-21T13:21:00.000-05:00

The semester doesn't seem so bad yet. For starters, I had my first class last week, and it went swimmingly. I have a good bit of reading to do already, but that's not so big a deal. I've also gotten my first thesis draft back for correntions and re-vamps, so I'll at least have that to keep me busy if I happen to get bored. Aside from that, I also have the conference to prepare for, and one or two emails to send out regarding deadline changes, submissions, and so forth. I also had rehearsal for Concert choir, which went fine, and I sang with Liturgical chior this morning, also fine. Today, I'll be getting some work done at the Lincoln Center campus, where John will be meeting me at some point. After some work, we'll grab some food, get a workout in, and eventually make our way home to possibly do laundry and tidy up around the apartment. Thus ends my first week into the spring semester.

How do I feel? Not sure yet. A few people I've run into are expressing a general malaise, much the same sort as what I was experiencing no more than a few days ago. I'm healthy, working out when I can, eating right, sleeping plenty... I'm just not ready to be back at the grind. The worst of it is that I haven't really experienced the full force of an actual week just yet; we had Monday off, and Monday happens to be my busiest day, so I have no idea how I'll feel at the end of it. Then again, I should know by tomorrow. I have a 9:30 class tomorrow morning in the Bronx, followed by and 11:30 right afterwards, then a bit of a break before my 4:00, followed by a 6:00 rehearsal and coaching fencing at 7pm. If all goes well, I'll be on the 8:30 van back to the city, getting home by around 10 or so. That's not so bad, is it? Well, okay, it's not great, but it is what it is, and I'm not too worried about it. How is this any different from what I've done for the past year-and-a-half?

I'll tell you what's different: I'm living with John, and I'm living in Brooklyn. The John part isn't so bad, since I think he's acclamated pretty well to living here, but he and I will both be busier than we've ever been in one another's company, which is saying a lot. As for the Brooklyn part, it's not exactly hell and gone from the rest of the world, but it does make things a little rough for me if I have to be in the Bronx virtually every day of the week. This isn't worry on my part... just an acknowledgement that things are going to be a little different, perhaps a bit more hectic than even I'm used to. Worry? No. Consternation? Maybe a little. Why do I do this to myself? I mean, I am the one doing this to myself, am I not? Choir and fencing? What is that about? I'm also giving one or two voice lessons here and there, but that's no biggie (besides, it lets me make a couple of extra bucks, so at least it's not for nothing). It's the choir and fencing that I don't get. I did consider droping both of them this semester, but I just couldn't. If I weren't singing every day, I don't know what I'd do. As for the fencing... okay, I might end up dropping that one. Maybe. But I digress... why do I do this? Why do I overload myself and go full steam, making everyone around me crosseyed at what I'm doing? Do I enjoy it? A little, maybe, but it's certainly not all fun. I can think of far easier ways to enjoy myself.

You know what? I don't know. I don't care. I'm a train that doesn't stop easily, and that's the way I think I've always been. I've gotten worse about it over the years, but I don't seem to be feeling worse about it. In fact, I think I've become better at doing this to myself, and, for what it's worth, it's not so bad. I'm sure I'm not the busiest person out there, right? I mean, there must be millions of people who run themselves full throttle all the time. I live in New York... I'm sure I pass most of them on the street every day. I think I just start to doubt myself sometimes, that I begin to wonder if I should listen to everyone that tells me I do too much. Okay... listen to them... and then what? Cut back? I don't know about that. Most days, I still feel like I'm sitting around and doing nothing with my time, being lazy and slacking off. Go figure.

Okay, enough of this. This semester is just like all the others. Only I'll do everything better this time around, more efficiently, with more attention to getting everything just right. Quality and quantity? I think it can happen. I'm going to give it a shot, anyway. Anyone else up for the ride? I wouldn't mind the company.

Not quite ready

2007-01-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

The semester is officially underway, and I don't think I'm exactly geared up for it. That doesn't necessarily change things... I'll still be there for the first day of my courses, teaching, etc., but I'm not exactly turning cartwheels about it. I think it's a lack-of-sleep issue. My sleep schedule has been lopsided for the past three weeks, and I can't seem to right it. The way I see it, it'll just take care of itself, once I'm obligated to be somewhere and do productive things on a regular basis. Not that I've been a complete waste lately... just not at my usual insane pace. For some, that might seem like a good thing. Personally, I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that I don't do well in slow-mo.

John's teaching his first course of the semester at the moment. I haven't got any commitments until tomorrow, and no classes until the day after that, but that doesn't mean I'm relaxed. Actually, I'm working on a few things now. It's just not getting me to my usual level of pumped-up-ness, for whatever reason. My theory is that I've simply been away from people for too long. John's been great, but he's kind of... well... singular, and we've seen nothing but one another since we got back from Texas. It's been fun, that's for sure, but not exactly conducive to productivity. I'm not worried about it... I'm sure it'll all kick into gear, if it isn't already... thing is, I'm just not particularly enthused.

But yeah, I'm sleepy. And I'm a little hungry, what with the diet/workout thing going on. We'll say that the culmination of all that is to blame for my lacadaisical attitude, and we'll leave it at that. In a couple of days, I'll be just as bright-tailed and bushy-eyed as ever. Till then, though, don't expect fireworks. That is, unless you've got a sandwich on you.

No, it's not a resolution

2007-01-12T08:19:00.000-05:00

... because I didn't make any kind of promise at New Year's. The point is, I want to get back on the weight loss kick that was so effective for me last year. I've kept the weight off since I lost it, which is good, but now I'm looking to really kick myself in the face and get down to a weight I think I've only seen once in my life, which was probably back when I was in junior high. If I can lose 40 more pounds, I'd be on absolute fire. It may seem like a huge number, but it isn't, really... after all, I've already lost that much (and a little more, in fact) since I moved to New York. And even with that weight loss, I'd still be well above my recommended weight for my height. At any rate, I've decided to push my own buttons all over again and give it a shot.

Lucky for me, I'm not the only one. Since the weight loss competition I engaged in last year, it seems that the rest of the participants are of the same mind. Some have put on even more weight, some are unhappy with their original results. In any case, everyone else is also feeling the need to take up the weight loss torch. That's why we've collectively decided to reinstate the weight loss competition, now with new goals and new monetary commitments. I don't know how confident everyone is, but at least we're all pretty determined, so I'm not counting anyone out just yet. John is convinced he's looking a mess, so he wants to lose another thirty or so, which I think is truly ridiculous. He's pretty serious about it, though, as I am. And who doesn't love a challenge? Anyway, the game is afoot. Again. We had our first weigh-in on Wednesday, so we're all off and running... all the original participants, plus one or two more.

John and I started working out yesterday... I don't wanna talk about it. My muscles are doing plenty of talking right now. No use complaining... I've got more of it ahead of me later today. Classes start up again next Tuesday, so I have until them to get myself up to some kind of comfortable operating level with all the new working-out business I'm putting myself through. I've been careful not to overdo things, minding my diet and the amount of work I do, so I'm pretty confident that I won't be so sore after workouts in a few days. Besides, John and I have a couple of days set aside for working on the apartment, and I have a little prep work ahead of me before the semester kicks off, so it's not like I'll be in the gym 24/7. That might not be the worst idea, given the work I have ahead of me. Don't worry, though... I'm not about to run myself ragged over this. I'm generally too busy for that anyway.

Holidays, New Year, an so on

2007-01-03T02:58:00.000-05:00

I've been neglectful with my blog. Terrible of me, right? Yeah, well, I'm okay with it.

At the moment, I'm killing time for the next couple of days. That is, I'll be working on my thesis and a project for my little on-the-side gig with the National Center for Alcohol and Substance Abuse... so I have work to do, but it's nothing compared to what I had to deal with during finals. Hence, my absence from the blogging world. Okay, I might have been able to spare a few moments, but in the end, it hurt just to think about being in front of my computer. Besides, my trip to Texas for the holidays has proven entertaining enough to keep the computer well at bay. Now, however, I suppose it's time to return to the grind. It's been about a week since I've done any kind of real work, which still doesn't feel like enough of a break from all this, but yes, I think I can muster the courage to hurl myself back into the frey.

We'll be in Texas for two more days, and then we're headed back to New York. John is kicking and screaming (on the inside, of course) to get back to NYC, and I can't say I'm too far off from those senttiments myself. It's been fantastic to see family and friends, of course, and much of it has been relaxed. These trips, however, are never without their stress. Family gatherings are what they are, and often become troublesome in their own right. Friends love us, but there are enough of them to see that we start feeling like pinballs at the end of a day filled with visits. In the end, you risk upsetting one or two people because you didn't visit with them enough (or at all), which leaves you feeling bad about your efforts. And yet, what the hell can one do? Whatever happened to compassionate friends who understand the fact that you're stretched thin as it is, and that it's not meant to be a personal slight if you didn't get a chance to see them? Besides, when was the last time any of them flew up to New York? As soon as that particular question crosses my mind, I start feeling less guilty about all the people I haven't had a chance to see this time around. I mean, there are some people who haven't the means to visit, and likely would if they could, but there are the others who could manage it and simply don't. John and I are doing what we can to see those friends who are legitimately unable to see us in New York. As for the rest... nyeh.

For anyone who's been wondering, Christmas was fine. We did two family shindigs... one with one branch of John's family on Christmas Eve, and the other with the other branch of John's family on Christmas day. We also got together with friends and did some slightly less formal celebrating, gift exchanging, and so on, but we were all so exhausted at that point that I fear we were all far less energetic that we'd all hoped. Everything was quite enjoyable, though, so no complaints from me. For New Year's, we went to a restaurant and club which opened in Addison in December... two of our friends are part owners... and we had a fantastic time bringing in the new year on a nice little discount (which could have been a little better, guys... sorry, but we did come all the way from New York, and you did make it sound like it was a no-strings invitation... love you forever, though). Here is a taste of my New Year's celebration, by the way, despite the fact that everything's so dark... guess a proper camera would have done better than my not-exactly-functional camera phone:

John, ever the default designated driver

(weirdo non-drinker), had his fun nonetheless.

Chuck behaved beautifully,
even when scary girls felt the
need to talk to him.

Jynxy was also happy to be there,
despite appearances.

As for me, I was just fine.

Love and addiction

2006-12-12T23:08:00.000-05:00

Let's face it... one goes hand in hand with the other. As for me, I'm fine with it. Sure, I have my little vices, and I can't say they get in the way of anything, so I'm willing to let them be. Right now, for instance, I'm doing a stretch of all-nighters (which brings me all the more in touch with one of my favorite addictions, caffeine... I love you, caffeine... so much...). It's that time of year, after all. And the process, in itself, is an addictive one. You get loads of work done, which gives you a strange sense of gratification. Besides, you look at the hours you're managing and think to yourself, "wow... I can't believe I did that." Sick, I know, but it's pretty damn fulfilling. Just ask John. He's sitting right behind me, pulling these late nights right along with me. This is actually a first... he's never been much for this sort of thing, but now he finds that it holds the same sort of appeal for him as it does for me. Besides, it's a weird kind of fun... we get to spend time together, proofread for one another, give each other encouragement when it gets a little rough. Anyway, I have a key to the psychology computer lab at Lincoln Center, since it's where I teach my labs for Intro Psych. We sit at opposite computers, back to back, then spend a couple of hours cranking out a bunch of work before taking a break to walk around outside or grab a bite to eat... whatever strikes our fancy. Personally, I love this. Best run of all-nighters I've ever had the pleasure of pulling. At the moment, I'm working on a big, fat research paper that's due in a couple of days, along with a take-home categorical analysis final. John's translating a bunch of Latin. We've seldom been happier.

So tomorrow marks our eight year wedding anniversary. The question did come up, of course, as to whether or not we'd be attempting another one of these late-night ordeals on that night of nights. The verdict? Probably. I mean, we're together (which is more than I could say for last year), we're kind of enjoying this, and they're even providing free midninght breakfast on campus tomorrow. Not so bad a deal, really. Besides, we actually do have a ton of work left to do. And if we want to do something more traditional to celebrate, there's no rule that says we can't put it off until our work is done, right? Ah, true love.

Speaking of addictions, here are some pictures of me taking part in another one... women's choir at Fordham. It's a good time, and Stephen, our director, is quite tallented and has become one of my very good friends. Sure, it takes up a nice chunk of time, but I have to make allowances for this kind of thing. Consider it a hobby. Okay, so I have, like, fourteen such hobbies, but whatever.

The blazing-fast passage of time

2006-12-06T23:03:00.000-05:00

It's one thing to say that time flies. It's another thing to watch it flying. Actually, maybe it's not so different. Without delving into any of numerous philosophical stances on the human experience of temporality, I'll simply say that time's been zooming by for me, and it's a little spooky when you stand back and look at it in perspective, or retrospect, or whatever.

For starters, there's the smaller picture. The days are darker sooner now, so I always feel as though I've only blinked before the sun has set and the day feels like it's over. I mean, 5pm looks like midnight out here. So there's that. That doesn't help the fact that I constantly feel like the walls are closing in, what with the papers and exams that are stacking up all around me this week. Deadlines are looming so close now, charging at me with the speed of Faust's nocturnal horses at full gallop. Not to come off as dramatic or anything. Seriously, though, it's getting a little scary, just as it always does this time of year. Besides, John's here now, and undergoing much of the same pressure. That can be both good and bad, actually. It's good because we're sympathetic to one another's current plight and can bolster each other through it rather effectively. It's bad becasue this kind of stress is pretty damn contageous. If he's having trouble getting finished on something, that's actually going to keep me up at night worrying.

So the days are shorter, the semester has flown up and slapped me in the face as if out of nowhere... time is flying by in perfect cartoon fashion. Then, of course, there's the big picture. After all, I just turned thirty a little over a month ago, and that's no chump change. It's not that I don't know where thirty years went... I know full well. I was there for most of them, after all. And I have to say that yes, it feels like thirty years have gone by. They haven't flown past in the normal sense... they've just been kind of brief, now that I think about it. It's not that they've been shorter years than usual; it's just that a year isn't a very long time in the average context of a life, even when a lot goes on. One could actually argue that, as more takes place during a year, it tends to go by even faster. Years, in a very general sense, are short... that's all I'm saying, standing on the afterwards end of thirty of them.

That's not the only thing that's got me thinking about the passage of time. Once in a while, some blast from the past shows up out of nowhere (thanks for the occasional freak-outs, MySpace and Friendster) and reminds me that time is indeed passing, since people I've met along the way are getting in touch with me to let me know they're feeling it, too. Just the other day, an ex-boyfriend from, jeeze, fifteen years ago (Chrissie, Kim... I think you know EXACTLY who I'm talking about here) shot me an email from out of the blue. He told me that he's married and has two kids, that he did two tours in Iraq with the marines, and that he's some kind of engineer now. Personally, I wasn't entirely thrilled to hear from this guy... not the best boyfriend memories with this one... but I put it into perspective. What the hell good does holding a grudge do me? Besides, he apologized for his long-ago transgressions, even offered not to contact me if he was being in any way offensive. John was a little miffed, not because I can't be trusted with email contact from high school ex-boyfriends, but because I've told him about this guy, and the stories I told weren't exactly about fuzzy teddy bears and fun and flowers and fluff. (Chrissie, you're probably backing John on this one, I imagine... I know how much you hated this guy!) In the end, I did shoot him a response, basically telling him he was a crap boyfriend but I was well over it, that I was glad to hear he was doing well, and that I'm happily, happily, happily married... you know... just in case this had the potential to get weird and stalkery. I'm glad I did it, to be honest. There are some things in life that never get resolved, some people who you always wonder about, even if only out of morbid curiosity. Here's one I don't have to wonder about any longer... woopie. No, really... I'm not going to be looking for ways to get together with him and his family on holidays or anything, but I am glad to know he's a better person now than he once was.

Naturally, he had to ask how married life was treating me. Treating me? Hmmm... Colloquialism or not, it's a strange choice of words. Married life hasn't treated me like anything. Married life is no different than unmarried life, as far as I'm concerned. Either way, John would be an enormous chunk of it, just as he's always been since the day I met him (whether I wanted things that way or not... ah, the early years of ever-persistent requited/unrequited fireworks... long story, that one). He's my best friend; I didn't have to marry him to have that. Granted, I'm in love with him, so we'd have to at least make out once in a while. But yes, I married him, so we get a couple of perks that go along with that convention, but that still doesn't feel so mandatory when it comes to him and me, if that makes any sense. I'm not trying to come off as some sort of marriage-is-a-social-construct-and-our-love-is-greater-than-such-artificial-bounds hippie or anything. That's just the way I see it. We got married young, sure. And left and right, we've had friends and family all around us whose marriages didn't go so well, which left us wondering if we were just missing something that everyone else was seeing and walking away before any more damage could be done. To be honest, I think we just got lucky. We go together really, really well, and that's just luck. People put tons of effort into relationships that don't work in the end, while others don't even try and manage to live in bliss (mind you, we've put in work... make no mistake there... just not as much work as some, I think, mostly because we're lazy and decide we'd rather play X-Box or go shopping or something). I say it's all luck. Not that working hard at a relationship is a bad thing... it's just relative. And from what I can see, it's relative to how lucky you got with who you found and what circumstances surround you at any given moment. Fun, huh?

Actually, it can be. In about a week, it will have been eight years of fun for me and John. People have been telling me it's a pretty long time to have been married. I just tell them I got lucky. Very, very lucky indeed.

The great American holiday

2006-11-27T12:17:00.000-05:00

Oh, yeah. Thanksgiving break was beautiful. I get teary just thinking about it.

For starters, there was no formal Thanksgiving anything. John and I slept in, stayed home, watched TV, picked up around the apartment, and had turkey burgers for dinner. Magnificent. And yes, we were definitely grateful. Besides, the low-key Thanksgiving was a necessary component of the big picture, and the big picture was all about Black Friday.

We had initially foreseen ourselves out in the trenches in the early morning, armed with brass knuckles and nunchucks, battling it out with the otherwise unabated throng of rabid shoppers late into the evening for the best sweater at the bargain table of the nearest H&M. Suprisingly, this wasn't so much the case at most of the places we went, but we did have a tiny taste of the ugly. Our day was spent at Union Square, and we didn't get as early a start as we initially planned to, but once we were out there we grabbed some lunch and got to the shopping. Again, most places were suprisingly calm... for Black Friday, that is. There was still a very reasonable crowd everywhere we went, so we weren't entirely disappointed. Then, as the evening progressed, we got to an Aldo store, where we saw a banner advertising their Thanksgiving weekend special... 50% off everything's already marked down tag. Oh, man... we were so there.

When we got inside, we could barely move through the mass of people there, men and women alike. Shoes were literally flying everywhere. Dozens of store emplyees were walking around with clipboards and notepads, taking people's shoe orders, just before running to the back of the store and hunting down the requested items. Mind you, one had to hope that the size was right or the shoe looked good when worn, or you'd have to go through the whole process all over again. Then, if you should have to sit down in order to try a shoe on, good luck... short of pushing a kid into a pile of shoe boxes, I could barely find but a corner of a seat to sort of prop myself against for balance. I'd found three pairs of shoes for unnatural prices, and I was willing to undergo some minimal tortures to walk out of there with at least one pair to brag about later. Meanwhile, John was going through the same nightmare on the men's side of the store with three selections of his own. I did witness a fight between two women looking at the same pair of shoes, one overhearing that they were the last pair and waiting for the other woman to try them on so she could pounce if they didn't fit. There was some yelling, rustling of shopping bags... frankly, I was too busy fighting my own battle to see how it ended.

When we finally left, John had one pair of shoes and I had two. From there, things were easy and relaxed... the weather was crisp but not unpleasantly cold, and the outdoor stores in the park at the square had plenty to offer. John, in fact, got an early anniversary present while we were there, which he seems pretty giddy about getting: a celtic torque necklace. You gotta love it when someone's wanted something for years and years and not been able to get it, then all at once an opportunity presents itself and you jump at the chance, and presto, dream fulfilled. Besides, it was an instance when, despite the fact that it's not your common everyday kind of men's jewelry, the one we found not only fit well, but was also the sort he could actually pull off. Naturally, I had to get it for him. Besides loving him more than enough to justify the purchace, it also saved all the world from hearing him mutter to himself for weeks about having finally found it and wanting it more than anything ever in the whole wide world.

In short, it was a fantastic Thanksgiving, albeit somewhat unconventional. We didn't do big family stuff, but we both feel like we celebrated in style. Tie it up with going to the movies (the new Bond is a winner) and walking around in Lower Manhattan and South Street Seaport, and I'd say it made for a nice little package. Just a few weeks more, and the semester will be over and done with... for now, I maintain the opinion that three weeks have never been longer than the ones I'm begining at the moment.

Thanksgiving plans, or lack thereof

2006-11-21T16:21:00.000-05:00

Interestingly enough, we've decided not to go out of our way to do, well, anything at all for Thanksgiving. With different branches of the family spread out across the greater known world, and with money not growing off that tree I planted, we decided we'd stick around in New York and take it easy, treating it more like a real vacation. Typically, Thanksgiving is more of a marathon consisting of family and food, and usually far too much of both. At this point, we've already made plans and bought tickets to go to Texas for a couple of weeks during the Christmas break, and since that's not so far in the future, we figured we'd wait until then to see everyone. So far, no one's voiced any violent opposition to the game plan, so we're pleased with it all around.

Vacation though it may be, there'll be plenty of work to do while we're, um, relaxing. I have a pretty heavy load of writing and research to plow through over the next few days, and I think John's got his hands full with one or two projects of his own. This will be a true test of our discipline as students, I suppose, although I can't say I'm feeling very optimistic at the moment. The thing is, I'm feeling a certain brand of laziness setting in, the sort that hits right around this time of year, just as the end of the semester is in sight. Simply put, I'm tired. I'm tired not only in the sense that I've been working just about as non-stop as I think I ever have, but in terms of not having had much chance to do the things I'd rather from time to time. I wouldn't mind being this busy if I had just a little time for more songwriting and guitar, for weekend performances around the city... I'd be busier if I did it, but I'd be better off somehow, I think.

Enter Thanksgiving. I've decided it'll be my chance to seize upon moments I wouldn't have come across if we'd chosen to do the usual Thanksgiving travel. I won't have to steal away a momet or two for music, as I've had to the past few months. No, I think I can manage a bit more than that.

Parade of the damned

2006-11-11T09:09:00.000-05:00

And everyone else, I suppose. At long last, here are photos from when John and I went to the Halloween parade in the village. It wasn't enough, of course, to simply be there, so we dressed up and got into the parade, as one is pretty much an idiot to not do, if only at least once.

This one is a picture of me on the subway, on the way to the parade. The corset was actually not as tight as I think it looks here, but it did make me long for the days when women wore these, because I must have shrunk by five or six inches around my waist. And, by the way, if anyone's wondering what we went as... we're Venetian masqueraders (or Venetian masks). I think it's a little more obvious when looking at John's costume.

See what I mean? (and you can't miss the beauty of the picture that's behind him, no doubt.)Anyway, a lot of people were running around the city in costume, most of them headed to the parade, so we weren't exactly complete sore thumbs on the subway. Still, people thought John was pretty creepy, which he absolutlely loved, and lots of people wanted pictures, which I'm sure he didn't mind posing for. Anyway, I think I can let most of the rest of the pictures speak for themselves:

Okay... these are real firemen. Back to the fakes!

And now, my favorite:

The runners of Pamplona

...and one of their bulls. These folks must have run like crazy all night! Great gag... they win the originality prize from me, hands down.

Frustration, thy name is TiVo

2006-11-07T09:37:00.000-05:00

I must not be very bright, I imagine. I know there are countless people out there with TiVo, yet I find it increasingly difficult to set up my service. Whether it's a matter of the fates conspiring against me again, or simply an issue of sheer incompetence, the fact still remains that I'm incapable of making the TiVo gods appreciate my desire for their cooperation.

We set up the box, but it seems that the cable signal is a sometimes friend. Don't ask me why... to the best of my knowledge, everything is hooked up properly. On top of that, I have to wait until people in California wake up before I can actually activate the service, since I have a gift subscription and need special permission to so much as blink in the general vicinity of the TiVo box. Again, it could be my own genius that's making this all so difficult, but at this point there's no telling. Meanwhile, the wires in my apartment are multiplying... it is more machine than apartment now...

Speaking of which, Cinemax is doing a Star Wars marathon thing, showing all six episodes back to back to back to... well, six of them, naturally. This, suprisingly, matters. I can't say I've ever seen the damn things all at once and in their proper sequential context, so I figure it might make for good times. Besides, I married a walking trivia box when it comes to Star Wars, among other things. I can ask all sorts of random questions about the film... the movies, the related publications, the merchandising, George Lucas' dietary habits at the time of filming... and John will likely know the answer. Adds an enjoyable element to the whole thing, really. Besides, it gives him a reason for wasting so many years on learning so much otherwise pointless crap.

Oh, and as for the Halloween parade... there are indeed pictures, which will be coming along before too long. John's got them in his camera, or in his computer, and that means that I've yet to get my hands on them for posting. Not that anyone's waiting on baited breath for these things, but at least the word is out that they're en route. As for the rest of everything, we're busy as always. Nothing particularly dramatic going on (save my epic battle with the TiVo box)... school is insane in both our camps, working out at our posh gym gives us much needed solace, and New York is still very much New York (particularly now, being election season).

A bit of news that no one will care about... I got my IRB approval, which means I can finally start collecting data for the quantitative portion of my thesis. I still hate that I have to do things this way, but I'll do what I must. Mind you, I won't go down quietly; I still plan to refute my need for that sort of data in exploring my selected phenomenon. Sorry, but there's no way they're nudging me off my soapbox. I've also finally landed my placement with CASA (the Natioanal Center for Alcohol and Substance Abuse at Columbia University) as a research assistant on their LEAP program... I've been gunning for this position for a year now, and it's finally paid off. We're doing work on constructing a measure at the moment, and, once again, I have huge problems with the methodology. The nice thing about working with these folks, though, is that they seem to care about what I have to say, so my kicking and screaming about this theoretical garbage might not be a lost cause after all. We'll see how it goes. Meanwhile, John's off being impressive, which still makes me sick... sure, he works hard, but COME ON! He walks into situations that don't even seem real! You know what... I don't even want to talk about it right now. Ugh.

Of course, it couldn't be a day in the life without loss of it. Someone comitted suicide yesterday morning by throwing himself in front of the 1 train over by Columbus Circle, right by campus. If that wasn't enough, I received an email yesterday telling me that one of my friends from high school, Billy (nice guy among a slew of not-so-nice ones where I was concerned), was killed in Iraq. Chances are, no one reading this knew either of these people. Hell, I only knew one of them, and never very intimately. The point, I suppose, is that they weren't so far from me somehow. Death never is, one could say. We don't like to think about it, but then again, we're drawn to it all the same, and somehow we strike a personal balance without losing it completely. That is, unless you decide to end it all by throwing yourself in front of a subway train, in which case you've pretty much given up on balance. I say live, and do it as much as you possibly can. Somehow, at least in my experience, therein lies the balance.

Good times, they are a comin'

2006-10-31T17:24:00.000-05:00

I'll be brief for now... John and I are going to the village tonight for the big, fat halloween parade. There will be photographic evidence presented before too long.

If the pace in New York is fast...

2006-10-24T11:28:00.000-04:00

...you can imagine how overjoyed I've been on crutches.

Oh, yeah. I'm a champ.

I didn't do anything ridiculous, like fall down or trip or anything. I've been training myself to run longer and longer distances on the treadmill, and I was up to just over two miles last week. Anyway, at the end of a run, I felt something odd happening in my right knee, just at the kneecap. It wasn't crippling pain, but it was definitely noteworthy. I finished up the rest of the mile, which was only a couple of minutes, then did the rest of my workout on the elyptical machine. I felt some soreness, but that was all. After about twenty minutes in the sauna and a good hot shower, I still felt it, but figured it would pass.

Obviously, it didn't. Well, sort of. The pain of walking has gone away pretty much altogether. That is, unless I'm going up stairs. Or down stairs. Or up and down curbs. Or walking on any sort of incline. Gee... good thing there aren't any of those in New York.

After a few days of trying to work and wince through stairs and ramps and such, I decided to pay a visit to my local quack shack (aka university clinic), just so I could say I had someone look at it. The doctor there said... well, let's just say she didn't hide her concern. I think her exact words were "Wow... it's really not supposed to crunch like that when you bend it. I think it's time for crutches."

Lovely. So now I'm on crutches. I use them as an assist, really, so I still walk on the leg, but I don't bend it at all on stairs anymore, and I take elevators any time I can. Like I said, I can walk just fine, but I'd rather be overly cautious than end up with a life-long knee injury. Besides, I'll be seeing an orthopedic doctor soon, so hopefully I'll have solved this mystery and gotten on with running again before too long. Still, to hell with crutches. Chances are, I won't use them any more, if I can help it. I'll just hop around on one leg when necessary. After all, the shiny new bruises under my arms from the crutch tops will need their own time to heal. Needless to say, I'm a little miffed. I can't work out, I can't go up and down stairs like a normal human, I can't put on pants without having to mind this ridiculous knee wrapping... Yeah, I'm not so cheerfull. But yes, it'll pass, and yes, I've been through worse. I'll manage... no worries.

On a far sadder note, John's grandmother passed away this weekend, and it's been very sad for both of us. Were it not for finances and schedule insanity, we'd have hopped on a plane to San Antonio to be with her, but we had to settle for John talking to her on speaker phone while she was pretty well unconscious. It was terrible. Everyone was very supportive and understanding about our not being there, and John has sent a special ancient coin we recently found, an interesting Roman coin with a cross on it, to be burried with her (courtesy of John's sister, Jennifer). I think John felt better when he resolved himself to the gesture, and so did I, for both our sakes. You'll be missed, Gandma Veale.

Sitting on my benchmarks

2006-10-18T17:32:00.000-04:00

It rained all day on my brithday. I stayed home for most of it, alone, working on a number of things for classes, conferences, teaching preparations, and so on. In the evening, I went to the Bronx for a choir rehearsal, then came straight home. My umbrella was broken, so I got rained on pretty nicely on the way back. Happy birthday to me.

On the other hand, I got some pretty fantastic presents. Chuck sent me a TiVo box with a year's worth of service. I love Chuck. He understands me. Then there was John's gift (which he announced was only one of a few), a new iPod video. I love John. He understands me. It would appear that both husbands did exceptionally well on the gift-giving front this birthday. Mom sent me a planner (she sent me the same thing last year... at least she's consistent) and a card. Thanks, mom. I got phonecalls from a good many folks, several emails and texts of well-wishing. All in all, I felt pretty well thought of.

The question, then, is whether or not I felt thirty.

Mom said something interesting to me when she called to wish me a happy birthday. She said, "I'm glad that you're at the age you're at." Since most of what my mother says requires some further explanation, I asked for it. She told me that she was reflecting on my age, and that she must therefore be pretty old, but that she didn't feel old at all, so she hoped that I didn't feel old either. (See what I mean by 'needing explanation'?) So, then, do I feel old?

Please.

I mean, have you seen the way I live? No, I think I'm just fine with being thirty. I look okay, feel okay, and all my parts move fine. I sing, I fence, I do academic crap, I go out and do the occassional social bit... I've got few complaints. Mind you, I get a little anxious now and then when I think about how the hell I'm going to eventually pay off my student loans, but whatever... live in the now, right? And right now, it happens to be birthday week. Haunting thoughts of student loans be damned.

I've got tons of work this week. No matter... I should find a way to enjoy myself over the next few days. Like work ever stopped me...

Clear-eyed and counting down

2006-10-11T12:13:00.000-04:00

To my birthday, that is. I imagine it's a momentous age, thirty, but it doesn't really feel that way. Perhaps when it's closer. But what am I at now... six more days? How much closer can it get?

Well, it could be here. That would be closer.

I've seen two very different approaches to turning thirty, from men and women alike. They either A) get really depressed, or at least feign being really depressed in order to accumulate sympathy from the people around them who are pretending to care, or B) go out in a blaze of glory, in a sense, partying their brains out like they're turning twenty-one again... basically, fighting the inclination to fall prey to the above-mentioned option A.

As for me, I'm not sensing myself leaning toward either one. I'm not trying to be original or anything... I'm just not feeling it. Mind you, I'm not totally ambivalent about it, either. I'm actually very happy to be turning thirty. There was a time in my life when I didn't think I was going to see this birthday, so that's a good thing. Of course, it reminds me that I'm constantly riding out the odds, and each passing year provides me with another chance to give medical fate the finger, in a manner of speaking. Well, in a manner of speaking that's very much my manner of speaking, I guess. Thirty is looking better and better, the more I think about it. And I do think about it a lot, but I can't seem to make myself depressed about it.

For starters, I'm doing a lot better than I ever thought I would at this point, and not just healthwise. Not only is my life pretty cool, but I'm cool! I finally made it to cool! And trust me, it's been a long, ackward time coming. I'm living in New York, I'm about to finish my first album (which is now being sequenced and finally reproduced), I'm en route to getting my PhD in something that makes me sound kinda smart and respectable, and I'm in love with someone who seems to reciprocate the sentiment pretty much on a voluntary basis.

Sweet.

For my thirtieth, I think I'll have a party. I'll invite some people, and about half of them will show if I'm lucky, but we'll have fun anyway. I'll celebrate the thing, feel good about it, and end up looking and feeling pretty much the same as I did at twenty-nine. Of course, minus last week's pink eye and since my most recent hair straightening a couple of days ago (and for the curious, yes, it actually lasted a year), the looks might be a tad different. But hell, I'm just glad to be around.

Homebound and winking at it

2006-10-03T14:51:00.000-04:00

No, really. It's pink eye. I hate everything and everyone.

I can't leave th house, of course, because I'm contageous. I'm a big, goopy mess, and I have to sit around and study. I can't go to the gym, I can't go to choir tonight. Did I mention my hatred for the world?

No matter. I'm keeping occupied (see below... thanks a lot, Chrissie... like I didn't have enough crap that I needn't be wasting my time doing). My right eye inks constantly, without my having any say in the matter.

Grrrrrr.

Just to further emphasize my omnidirectional hatred, I'm making the world deal with this image. Taste my pain!

Sure, I believe it

2006-10-03T14:26:00.000-04:00

And why not, right? Actually, I'm a little happy about the androgeny my face seems to portray.

What could have been, how much it's worth

2006-10-02T18:17:00.000-04:00

I had plans this weekend... lots of them. It was going to be fruitful and productive, and I was going to get to the end of it feeling very proud of everything I'd accomplished.

So much for that.

John and I completely slacked off. I think we each got some reading done, but that was about it. And the reading is no small thing, of course... He's reading Sallust, I'm reading Freud... so yeah, not exactly chump change. Still, it's got nothing on the plans we'd made. I was going to get chores done, errands run, studying out of the way. Yeah.

To be honest, I'm doing it again. Right now, I'm supposed to be working on a problem for regression analysis... I'm sitting in a computer lab, pretending to have SPSS open. I can't do it... my head is killing me, and it's time for dinner. Enough with the numbers, already.

I think back on the days when I liked math... I can't remember any such days. I kind of detest it, to be honest. Sure, it's a big part of what I do, but I don't have to like it. It's a necessary evil, as far as I'm concerned. After all, math is more of my dad's thing. Kind of explains why, despite my continuous efforts, I fail to feel much warmth in the math area.

Speaking of which... it's dad's birthday. I think he's 57 now. Usually, when his birthday comes along, it reminds me that mine's only a couple of weeks away. This time, I've sent our gift to him via mail (I think he'll be getting it in a few weeks, according to the company I ordered it from). I think he'll like it. If he doesn't, it's out of my hands, and I can say that I tried, which is usually the way I choose to see most all things where my dad is concerned. If nothing else, I can tell him how much the gift was worth, and it'll probably score me some points with him. Call it shallowness on his part if you want... I choose to see it as a choice of priority placement, and that's where dad seems to place his more often than not. It's not his fault, really... it's the American way. Or maybe it's the American immigrant way... to be more overt about it, that is. Let's face it... the value that tends to matter most to us all is usually of the monetary variety, despite our best intentions. I don't think it's altogether bad, just peculiar that we don't feel comfortable about it. When people find out what I do, they make assumptions about the money I'll eventually make. Funnier still is the fact that I let them.

Happy birthday, dad.

Well, if you're gonna splurge on something...

2006-09-25T13:34:00.000-04:00

You might as well have a really good excuse. Or make sure that what you splurge on is undeniably a good idea. That is, a lot less deniably than a host of other horrible ideas for splurging that might have crossed your mind. That's a good rule to go by, I think. So yes, I splurged. Arguably, it wasn't really splurging at all, but I can't help but see it that way, given the surrounding circumstances. Here... see if you buy the argument.

Since we're Fordham students, John and I get to work out for free at the Fordham gym at Rose Hill. Very nice of them. Anyway, that's all well and good until it becomes clear how useless that priveledge is, since I don't have much time at Rose Hill to devote to a workout, and John, well, never even goes there. Basically, it would mean that we'd both have to make extra time in the week to travel all the way to the Bronx for a workout. And, the way our schedules are looking, that amounts to about once a week. No good for a workout regimen, I'd say. So things were looking bleak; John had resigned himself to a life of getting fat again, and I was wondering when my clothes were going to start fitting instead of being too loose (which makes it easy to show everyone how much weight you've lost by doing that thing where you tug on your pantswaist and show the space there while you stand at profile... I do have clothes that actually fit, of course, but I like to keep some of the big ones around, just for show). That's when I had the really bad idea.

To be honest, it's a good idea, just not a very economically sound one. A block away from the Lincoln Center campus, there just so happens to be an Equinox fitness club. We pass by it every day while walking from the subway stop to campus... you can actually see the door of one building from the door of the other. You really can't beat that for convenience, right? Besides, it's like a ninja of gyms... the front looks like a really fancy smoothie/juice bar (which it is, actually), and then you take an elvevator (which you can't see from the door) to an underground level, where the gym is. Cool, yeah? Sure... so I decided to go online and look it up. I expected it to be really posh and pricy, given the location. Thie pictures I found were definitely very nice, and I didn't even have to ask about the price, since it was pretty obvious it would be out of our leauge. So I asked about it anyway. I made an appointment to meet with one of their reps, and I got the grand tour, which, of course, was fantastic. (Incidentally, I called a couple of trusted resources who helped me do some competitive pricing on the nicer gyms in NYC, just to check on how this one stacked up, and so I could have some ammo when I went in there.) After about four hours of haggling and math, I walked out of there with two gym memberships and a free tee shirt. And yeah, it cost me... but here's why I think it's okay.

First, and most importantly, there's the issue of convenience. It's RIGHT THERE. Seriously... it's on the way to school, and it's on the way home, without throwing a kink into the way we already do things. Second, the place is pretty primo. They have everything you'd expect (towel service, bad-ass locker room, dry sauna, brand-spanking new equipment, people who work there being so nice that it's a little scary) and a few nifty extras (a three-lane lap pool, wet sauna, lots of really cool classes for which you never pay extra, comfortable blend of extremely hot people and regular joes). A friend of mine basically sealed the deal for me when he said that if the place is so nice that I really want to be there, I'm probably gonna work out more. Between that and the location, I don't see how I don't work out at least every weekday.

Third, it adds a new fantastic element to our lives. The shower in our apartment is nice, except for the fact that it isn't necessarily always able to give you the water at the temperature you request... basically, there's a serious shortage of hot water in our building. Come wintertime, I don't think John and I will be willing to test fate with the shower. Enter the new gym. We leave home in our workout clothes and bring our other clothes along, then get a morning workout in, after which we shower and spruce at the amazing facilities they have there. The showers are really fantastic, and they have everything there for you already, from shampoo/ conditioner/ bath gell/ shaving creme in the shower to lotion/ q tips/ mouthwash/ towels/ hair dryers/ deodorant waiting for you at little vanity stations. And then, when you're done, it's just a walk down the block to campus. Freakin' fabulous. I actually tried ithe morning regimen thing out today, and it went beatifully. Besides, it seems a lot of folks up there do the same thing (granted, not in terms of being Fordham students, although there are a few who work there, and I've seen a couple of professors there already). And, thanks to my resources, it turns out that the price was below comparable to the other high-end gyms, so I wasn't being cheated or anything. Actually, I managed to get a really good deal, so I'm not complaining there.

So okay, yes, we could have just bitten the bullet and taken stock of the fact that we had free use of a facility at our disposal. But sorry, the whole quality-of-life argument seems to be winning out more and more these days. In the past year, I've done my share of accomodating a tight budget, and this sort of thing would have made me slap myself at the mere thought of it. Now, seeing the way things are unfolding this semester, and noting the limited time John and I have to breathe, let alone to do so in each other's presence, I decided it wasn't asking too much of our finances to approprite this little luxury. John actually went for the first time today, so I've yet to hear his thoughts on the place, but I've already been three times, and I have to say that I'm loving the decision. And, as far as I can tell, so is my expanding wardrobe of loose-fitting, waist-tug pants.

Relaxed relapsing

2006-09-18T14:52:00.000-04:00

Since John's arrival, I've been particularly keen on actually caring a little about what I wear on a daily basis. Don't read too much into that, though. You see, last year I was living a ten minute walk away from campus, and usually had a workout of fencing in the evening, so most of what I wore consisted of sweat pants, tee shirts (and sweatshirts, when the weather demanded it), and cross trainers. Since moving to Brooklyn, I find that I'm in the City every day, regardless of what I have planned. Therefore, sweats seem to be a little less appropriate for daily wear.

Today, however, I made an exception. Since this will be the first day of sabre fencing for my crew, and since this is also the day I earmarked as my long-awaited return to the gym, I decided that, rather than lug around a big bag full of clothes to change into, I'd simply wear my workout clothes to campus. Meaning, of course, that I'd be wearing my workout clothes to Lincoln Center, which I don't believe I've ever consciously done before. It was strange, I'll admit, to walk by the Time Warner Center and see my reflection as I passed, donning a blue tee-shirt and purple sweatpants. I jerked my head away from that sight so fast that I nearly injured myself. When I got to campus, a couple of my students saw me, but I honestly think they failed to recognize me, which was fine to me either way. I'm a student, too, and I'm entitled to being slovenly. Besides, I don't look homeless or anything... it's just workout clothing, after all. People walk around in tee shirts and sweat pants all day, all the time... why on earth should it bother me? Strange, how what seems like such a small change can make you take entirely different perspectives on your day-to-day. It has for me, anyway.

Meanwhile, I get my reading and my work done, I go to my classes when they spring up in my schedule, and now, starting tomorrow, I sing in choir once more. Not to mention fencing, which will be on Mondays and Thursdays. Lurking in the background, of course, is my damn CD, which is now completely mixed (save a tweak or two, which I go back to finalize this Friday), and I've officially set the order for the tracks. Mark will have the absolute final mix in his hand on Monday of next week for mastering, and it'll be in duplication about a week after that. See? Progress. I mean, I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't realize there were so many stupid hoops to jump through, and I'm not much for hoop-jumping.

Ugh... I have a class to go to. Frankly, I'd rather sit here and complain about the class I have to go to (Regression Analysis... you'd complain, too) than actually go. So much for what I'd rather do.

Discovering a new kind of boredom

2006-09-14T13:15:00.000-04:00

Not boredom, per se... well, maybe. Just kind of stagnating a little, I guess.

I'm not used to being this un-busy. And I'm busy, according to some. But I'm usually slammed with crap to do, and I'm just not feeling it. Shouldn't I be reveling in this? On the other hand, maybe I'm supposed to be really busy, and I'm screwing things up so bad that I don't even realize the fifty other things I'm supposed to be doing. Actually, I could make myself busier. I could crank out early work on my thesis, even my dissertation. I could write random papers and submit them for publication or conferences. I could train for a marathon.

Funny... I can't seem to bring myself to do any of that.

I'll get to it. Honest. And I'm not being a slacker. I'm just taking a different approach to things. John, suprisingly, hasn't been a distraction. In fact, I think we actually manage to motivate each other to get quite a bit of work done. We've actually both been a little suprised at that one. No complaints, though. It's nice to have him here, and we're having a really good time. Maybe that's got something to do with this new approach. I seem to have... what do they call it again... free time? Yeah. Weird. But I ike it. I mean, don't get me wrong. By free time, I mean, like, a day, maybe two, where I only have a couple of major things on my schedule, and then it's five, maybe six hours of down time. I can live with that. I don't think it's gonna last too much longer, though... I'll be starting choir next week, and fencing. Still, it won't take up nearly as much time as last year... choir will only be once a week, and fencing snuggles right up to time during which I'd be hanging out on campus doing nothing anyway. Now all I have to do is get my workout schedule to wedge in there somehow, and I'm pretty much set for the semester. So okay... I'm starting to feel a smidge better about this boredom thing. But seriously, it really does feel odd.

No worries. I've been jotting down ideas for new songs, putting melodies together here and there while scribbling them all down in this nifty little notebook I take everywhere I go. When I'm not reading for class, I'm pretty much scribbling down music and lyrics and the like. I haven't really given any of them a full treatment, though, so I suppose that's why I'm feeling a little unproductive on the music end of things. I am working on new music, though, even if I haven't exactly played or sung any of it yet.

It's been raining all day, and it's supposed to keep at it into the evening. The New York fall uniform of the hoodie/blazer combo is starting to opp up everywhere, now that the heat of summer is officially on its last legs. Fine with me... I'm up for a change of season.

And the beat goes on

2006-09-05T10:12:00.000-04:00

Steve Irwin died, and it hit me a lot harder than I thought such a thing could. The last two days have been taken up a great deal by thoughts of him and his passing, and I hardly think I'm alone in that. Feeling a little embarassed by my odd state of grief, I told John about it, and he confessed the exact same sentiment. I wouldn't be surprised if there are thousands of people out there going through exactly the same thing.

Everything keeps rolling along, though. I lost my two pups, and many dear friends and family lost loved ones in the past months. This feels like yet one more dear friend is gone, and I hardly consider that to be an exaggeration. And here we are, rolling along with our lives, as I suppose we must all do. tking the time to pause and reflect is the natural and expected thing to do, sure, but then it's back to living. I've often found it odd, actually, that this culture is so devoted to this ideal. Other cultures spend a very long time mourning such losses, and it would seem garrish and highly inappropriate to do otherwise. Anyway, I stand somewhere in the middle of all of it. We go on living, and we go on in rememberance. Should it be a solemn rememberance? On that point, I'm not so sure. Loss of those we love saddens us, to be sure, but it shouldn't stop us all from living on. Easier said than done, I think, when cnsidering the grief I know has stricken so many people in such cases, the kind of grief that has on occassion racked my own soul.

And the beat goes on...

Craig and I just finished the first half of the final mix for the CD, finishing up the rest of it this weekend and sending it off for good to Mark for mastering and being officially done with this album. From there, I send it off for duplication, and I get back to weekly erformances for promoting te album and getting the word out that I do this little music thing. Classes have given me plenty of reading to chew on, and I've been chipping away at it the best I can so far. John's at school today, first teaching in the morning, then going to his course at NYU. This is my day off, so I'll be working on the apartment, doing a good bit of reading, and hopefully stealing away for a few minutes to play some guitar. John Sauvey is staying with us tomorrow evening, so I have an apartment to make look as though we live like normal people and didn't just move in. I have my work cut out for me, but I don't think it's insurmountable. Besides, I can hear the beat from here, and that's my cue to get a move on.

Oh, yeah... Happy birthday, Mom. You look amazing, you deserve the world of happiness, and I'm just one of countless people that absolutely love you, so don't forget that you're one of the best people that most of us will ever know. Remember fun? Pay it a visit some time soon, will you?

Questions of orientation

2006-08-28T23:13:00.000-04:00

Not that John has any. Or at least, none he's willing to admit. We'll just say he's secure in his manhood or whatever.

Graduate student orientation was today. The two of us went out to the Rose Hill campus this morning at an hour I'm not willing to disclose because I find it painful. Once there, we socialized, had a bit of complimentary breakfast, then went from one corner of campus to the other, running errands for the both of us. We stopped in at financial aid, human resources, graduate student office, bookstore, department offices... we had a full day on campus, to be sure. Pleasantly enough, there was plenty of visiting with folks, some old and some new (all of them new to John, though). Free lunch, too. How do you beat that? By the end of the day, John and I were loaded down with textbooks, som elight groceries, and an assortment of random baggage picked up here and there during the course of the day. We got home, worked on the apartment through the evening, and... well, here we are.

I'm ready. Enough with the 'getting ready" phase prior to school begining again. As soon as I can get into the groove of coursework, I can get on with the rest of everything... the apartment, martial arts, fencing, my CD... everything feels like it's on hold until the semester officially begins. How long do I have to sit in this limbo? It feels like months when it's only been days... and all the whle, the apartment lies in a state of work-in-progress that just barely keeps my hope alive. Ugh... somebody tell me when I can get on with it.

Counting down to class

2006-08-21T19:32:00.000-04:00

I admit that I've been short on vacation time this summer. After all, I'm a student... one of the best perks is the vacation time. Nevertheless, I somehow found a way to cheat myself in that respect. I taught through June, took courses through July, and have been working on my apartment and getting John moved in through August. So much for my summer.

Actually, I think I'm looking forward to getting back to school. No, really. I mean, come on... how long have I been doing this school thing? Like, twenty-something years? Think about it. I must like it at least a little. To be honest, I'm just pumped about seeing John get into his groove. For starters, it's finally dawning on him that... um... I was right about moving us to New York. (Gee... who'd have thunk it.) Also, there's something really fabulous about this for him that he wasn't counting on... I'm the kind of friend who listens.

For years, he's been whining about wanting to do nothing but go to class and study martial arts. But in what world could he possibly do that an nothing else? Of course, he wouldn't mind teaching, but he would rather move on to teaching at the college level. Once again, a little impossible, as far as he could tell. So after years and years of listening to this, I decided I'd do what I could to get the ball rolling. When I made my move to New York, I told him I was doing it for both of us, and that I hoped he would understand my motivations someday, hopefully sonner than later. He supported me throughout, although he admitted he didn't quite see how this was supposed to be a beneficial move for both of us. Now that he's here, I think it's starting to set in. It's not that I'm handing him anything. I could never do that, and he hardly needs it. I just point my finger over at stuff that I think he might want to have a gander at... I'm like an extra set of eyes, one could say. So of course, I didn't get him into his doctoral program... I just gave him the application materials and threw on a little peer pressure. He's told me that some of his life dreams are being fulfilled now... he's learning praying mantis kung fu, he's studying Spanish rapier, and he's a week away from begining his doctorate work. And, if that wasn't enough, he'll also be teaching a freshman Intro to Latin course and a sophomore Intro to ancient Greek history, both at the Lincoln Center campus. And one of the courses he's taking is actually being offered at NYU, and the other two are at Lincoln Center. It doesn't get much better than that.

As for me, I'm just glad he's here. I've missed him, naturally. But more than anything, I'm just relieved that he likes his new life here so far. When school begins, things will really get interesting, I'm sure. For the next week, we have to work pretty much nonstop to get the apartment put together once and for all, and maybe get brave enough to have some friends over. I'm also going to be getting together with some other people who have agreed to serve on a pannel for Fordham GSAS orientation... we meet to talk about topics this Wednesday, then do the actual panel next Tuesday. How goofy would it be to take part in a panel for an orientation that John's attending? I'll be sure to report on my findings when it's all over.

At the moment, though, I should really get going. I promised John I'd hang up my guitars in the study/music room, and it's getting kinda late, so I don't want to run the drill into the night and keep the neighbors up. Ah, powertools. What's a girl to do without them?

All apologies... and none

2006-08-17T11:16:00.000-04:00

What do you want from me? John just got here, like, a week ago, and you want me blogging? Yeah... not gonna happen.

I'll do it now, though. I've gotten to spend some good time with him and the hundreds of friggin' boxes he brought up with him from Dallas. Ah, yes... and the cat. Let's not forget the cat. Anyway, they all got ehre ont he evening of the 4th... John, Kidden, Chuck, Jay, and Nate. We unloaded the truck and the car (with the help of some moving people I hired... that was definitely a good call), and then Chuck, Jay, and Nate said their goodbyes and headed back to Texas. Chuck had to be back to work in two days, so there wasn't much time to hang out in New York for them. From then on, it's just been me and John. And the cat.

The cat... who won't eat anything but 9 Lives puree. It can't be chunky, hard, or another brand. It has to be the mushy stuff. Even if you grind up the chunky bits yourself (and how would I know) to te point where it's identical to the pre-mashed, he won't touch it. If anyone is interested in some cans of chunky cat food, be my guest. Apparently, they're not good enough for the great Radames.

As for John, he's acclamating better than any of us had hoped. He goes out on the roof of the building and looks out at the skyline a lot, and comments that he can't believe he lives here... in a good way, that is. He's also started kung fu with me, which has ben nice, and he's also taken up historical fencing with our college buddy, Russ. Two days a week of the fencing, two days a week of the kung fu... the other day, while we were on our way to kung fu, right after coming back from doing laundry, he turned to me and asked, "Are we always going to be this busy?" Oh, man... has he even been reading my blog? I laughed for a good while at that one.

The apartment, as I suppose is to be expected, is a complete disaster area. I guess you could say we're making progress in getting the place put together, but I'd have a hard time proving it. We work on it a little every day, though, so we hope to be a good way along by the end of this week. At the very least, we have the bedroom, closet, and sitting room pretty well put together, or at least no longer entirely filled with boxes. The rest of the apartment, as far as I'm concerned, can just hold on a second. We'll get to it in time, I'm sure. Right now, I'm just having a really good time with John here.

We haven't done much, but we haven't been homebodies, either. His birthday was last weekend, so I took him out for shopping and a movie, and we had a great time. In our tradition of extending birthday celebrations by a few days, we continued to do things that were birthday related, such as gettng an ice cream cake one night on our way home, and making nearly every food decision in the week up to his whim (this, of course, meant a couple of pizza nights). He's settling in nicely, and we fully intend to spend the rest of the summer break doing as little as we can that doesn't include having a great time with each other. Oh, yes. That means a lot of goofy, holding-hands-and skipping-around-in-central-park ind of crap. At some point, we're going to make a trip to the zoo, so I'll hopefully have pictures to share of that particular excursion.

Today is a little busier than some. We have a lunch date with Russ, then a dinner date with Miraj. If anyone's been wondering what we've been up to, that' about it. So yes, sorry for being negligent. Still, I hope it's understood I'm not that sorry.

One year down, two boys up

2006-08-03T15:38:00.000-04:00

No, no... it really does feel like a year has passed.

It's been a good enough year, too. Not perfect, but certainly not without it's highlights. What's the line out of that Ani DiFranco song that Jane pointed out to me a while ago... "I had a year of New York City under my belt..." Oh, but it makes an incredible difference. One year of the city, and you really are changed. I'd like to think I've changed for the better, too. At least, I haven't seen or heard proof of the contrary. So I've knocked out a year of being here, and I have to say it was better than I hoped. Now, if John would just hurry up and get here, I could get on with the fun already.

John is on his way up to New York at this very moment, actually. He's got Chuck, Jay, and Nate with him. Oh, and the cat. Anyway, they're in a two-vehicle caravan driving from Dallas to NYC. They left yesterday evening, so they expect to be here by some point on Friday. A group of my good friends are delivering my two boys to me, at long last... I've no doubt they've got their work cut out for them. As for me, I've got to get this apartment ready. I mean, I have a couple of papers due for my summer courses, but that can wait a moment... I have a wreck of an apartment to attend to.

I hired some painters to help me finish the job I started. Frankly, I ran out of time and steam, and I needed some professional help to get it done. Also, the bathroom was scary enough to be deemed far beyond the reach of my home improvement expertise. They had to scrape, replaster, sand, and repaint, which has taken two days... it should be done by this evening, thankfully. My work includes getting everything put away somewhere before John gets here with his giant moving truck that's full of our house. Off I go, then.

Making Mom proud, making my world cold

2006-07-27T20:37:00.000-04:00

That's right, Mom... you'll like this one.

As a favor to my choir director at Fordham, I acquiesced to cantor a couple of masses at University Church this summer. Okay, so I'm getting paid for a couple of them, but whatever... I did one for free. Anyway, the first of these was this past Sunday, and I think it went well. Jane, of roommate fame, came by to see, and a couple of other folks from her department were there, as well as one of the girls who was in Vagina Monologues with me. It wasn't a particularly difficult mass or anything... it's just been a little while since I've cantored one of these, so I was a little nervous. I got there early, as planned, to meet with the nun who'd be playing for me, Sister Judith. She was nice, and she played well... that's really all I could possibly ask for from anyone I'm working with for the first time. We ran through the music, and we were ready to go. I only knew a couple of the songs, so I'd be sight reading the rest. Frankly, that makes it a little more fun for me... otherwise, it's a little dull. Before the mass, Sister Judith leaned over to me and whispered, "Are you nervous?" I smiled and said no. She said, "Good. Because when people are nervous, you can hear it over the radio." That's when it dawned on me, and I think she saw it. "You did know that this is going to be broadcast over the radio, right?" She had a look on her face that made me think she was regretting having told me. I shrugged. "Sure, yeah," I assured her, lying to a nun in church for what was definitely not the first time... I mean, come on... I grew up in catholic schools... lying to nuns in church was a sport for us when I was a kid. (Chrissie, you'll back me up on this one, right?)

Then, before I walked up to my podium to lead the opening hymn, an older gentleman apprached me and asked for my name, so that it could be announced during the broadcast. He also said that I should welcome everyone and announce the celebrant. "Who's the celebrant?" I asked him. He and Sister Judith exchanged a puzzled look. He turned back to me with a little smile. "The cardinal, dear... Just say that the celebrant this morning will be Avery Cardinal Dulles." Again, I had something dawn on me, and again, Sister Judith picked up on it. "Yes," she grinned, "that Dulles." (For those who don't know, he comes from an important family... think of the airport in Washington, and the city nearby... that Dulles.)

Right. No pressure.

Actually, it went fine. At least, that's what Jane said, and I know she wouldn't lie to me, so I feel good about it. After that, we went to breakfast with a few folks, and that was that. All in all, nice. Besides, now I can add a radio credit to my exploits in New York this year. So yes, a busy morning... I was on the radio with the cardinal... and had French toast afterward. There, Mom... happy?

So now, I'm in my bedroom, sweating. I can't work online from my living room right now because my router is on the fritz, so I have to be archaic and plug into the cable modem like a caveman. Ah, well... I'll get by somehow. Besides, after I'm done, I can go into the living room and freeze.

Oh, yeah. You heard it right... I have an air conditioner.

My sweet baby showed up today, with my microwave. No more cold leftovers for me, by the gods! I mean, sure, I could have put them in the oven or something, but that would've just heated up the place even more, and the mere thought of that was just painful. So my beautiful Friedrich 8000 btu showed up, and now my world is a blissful ball of smiling whimsy. I may never leave my living room again. I mean, at least after I'm done sweating over this blog entry. The labor of the window installation, which proved to be no small feat, made the first purrs I heard and felt from its glorious vents all the more precious and pure. Ah the benevolence of technology... the thing has a remote! I can't remember when I've ever been this happy. (Um... I love you, too, John. No, really. You have many good qualities, and people say you dress well.)

Right. I have a date with my seat next to the window in the living room... if you'll excuse me...

When there's nowhere to go but up

2006-07-22T21:54:00.000-04:00

And I'm not saying things were that bad. I mean, they've been worse, that's for sure. Still, they sucked. So I was feeling kinda bumbed out about my apartment being in the state it's in (unfinished, partially painted, flooring a disaster) and my being completely unmotivated at this point to do much of anything about it... I was also licking my wounds from my creepy moment with the gaggle of Hispanic guys over in the Bronx, and I'd start crying every time I saw anything that even resembled a dog. I've been better. Anyway, things began to improve before too long, like they tend to.

I got started with my new kung fu school a couple of weeks ago, and it's been fantastic. I've already learned most of my first form in the tai chi class, weapons class (staff form), and mantis class, and the place is a really nice facility full of really nice people. I know it's something else I'll have to pay for, but there's no doubt in my mind that it's worth it. Besides, I've really missed training formally in a martial arts school, and I think I really needed this right now, so there was no question about whether I'd be doing it or not, despite the cost. And really, it's not too bad moneywise, when you put it into prospective. The only problem now is convincing John that he's got nothing to be jealous about. Sure, I'm a little bit ahead of where he'll be when he gets here, but we both know he'll be catching up in no time. So yeah, that's been good. Therapeutic, too, of course. Nothing like punching and kicking to get over a bad-touch kind of night and an apartment that's laughing at you.

Classes have begun for the second summer session, and they're going well enough. I mean, they're classes. We're not having a party or anything. But it's nice to see everyone again, and it's nice to feel that I'm not the only one who felt as though my brain was suffering from some kind of academic atrophy. I was feeling like a slacker, since I had only done minimal work on my thesis additions and conference proposal. Turns out I've been doing more than a lot of people, so I don't feel so bad anymore. Besides, I'm the only one that seems to have been teaching over the summer, so at least there's that. Anyway, the reading load for my classes is a little ridiculous, but it keeps me busy, which is good, because being busy on schoolwork right now feels beeter that being busy painting the friggin' apartment. Not that I don't have to do that as well, but it makes for a nice change, so I'm not complaining. Not too much, anyway.

So then there was a heat wave in New York. Naturally, my people in Texas have been whining about their 106-degree weather non-stop, so they weren't about to hear my woes about my 99-degree piffle. Still, I had a legitimate beef... I've got no air conditioner. I have a window fan, but that's it. Try that in 99-degree heat, wherever you are, and I'd say you have reason to complain a tiny bit. I have an air conditioner coming this Tuesday, but it's more sweating till then. My aunt has also offered me her old air conditioner, but I can't seem to reach her, so it's the waiting game for me. No matter... we've had rain over the last two days, which has cooled things off a little. I mean, the fan blows a little water on me sometimes, but I'll take that over the oven-heat air it's been blowing in until now.

Okay, so the floor is a wreck, the painting's not done, I'm still grieving, and still pissed about bastards who can't keep their hands to themselves. As for my own hands, though, they're keeping busy with more than their share, and happily so. Tomorrow, I'll be cantoring at a mass at Fordham's University Church... it's been a while since I've done one of these, so I've got a touch of the butterflies, but I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm also getting together with Jane afterwards, which will be really nice. I'm trucking along, and it's a little lonely, but whatever. John will be here in less than two weeks, the apartment will no doubt be finished soon, I'm half way through my classes for the summer, and kung fu is just marvelous. So yeah... I'm good. Keep the upswing coming.

Whirlwinds can bring in a nice breeze

2006-07-11T13:13:00.000-04:00

The last time I wrote anything here, I was getting ready to leave for Florida, to meet John and Chuck at the beach house. I did, it was great, whatever. It was a week that went by too quickly. We were grateful for it, but yeah, it was too brief. At any rate, here's some proof that we were there:

Here, you can see most of what we did during the trip.
And here's Chuck, being Ansel Adams in his own right.

And here are John and I with an alligator. I don't think I need to explain myself on this one.

So then the trip was over and I came home. I finished out June with the rest of my teaching, preparing all the while for my move to the new apartment. The apartment is actually in Brooklyn, but it's a block away from Queens. I've taken to calling it Queenklyn. Anyway, there's a great deal of painting and fixing and primping needed before John gets here, so I'll be spending the month of July making magic happen. I've been busy doing very little else, actually. My world is comprised mostly of painting now. Paint fumes are my friend. Then, of course, there was that little thing that happened in the Bronx.

The week before I moved out completely from the old apartment, I was accosted by seven... seven Hispanic guys while I was walking home at around 9pm. There was some inappropriate touching which took place, and I had to lay hands on two of them before it was over. I'l leave it at that. The next day, John called me to tell me that my darling Apollo had passed away in the night, from an apparent cardiomyalgia... genetic defect that went unnoticed before. He died peacefully, in his sleep. Athena seemed fine, but we had her checked out anyway. Turns out she had little baby heartworms, but that's no biggie... just a treatment, and, since she was so young, she'd recover fine. She went in for the treatment, then came out two days later and back home for recovery.

A couple of days later was the final moving day. On my way from Queenklyn to the Bronx to finish my packing before the movers got there, I was part of a gun incident on the A train. It ended well, an no one got hurt, but it was pretty scary, and I did get to pull the emergency brake chord in our subway car. When it was all over, I continued on my merry way. When I got to the apartment in the Bronx, I began my final packing sweep; thirty minutes in, I got a call from John. Athena had passed away overnight. An autopsy showed the cause. It wasn't the treatment, since she was recovering beautifully from that... she had simply eaten a stick. Yes, a stick. It punctured the lining of her stomach, and the wound went ceptic; she died peacefully, and there was nothing anyone could have done.

I've had better weeks.

There have been a couple of other deaths that week... my sister-in-law's husband's father passed of cancer, and a friend of Nate's was shot and killed the following day. As for me, I'm just making sure I don't piss off the fates any more than I obviousy already have. Whatever's going on, I at least have paint fumes. Besides, I've started going to my two summer courses, which are rolling along just fine so far. At least it should keep my mind off of all the death. Ah, yes... hot fun in the summertime. But really, I'm fine, John's fine. We miss our kids, and it's ridiculously painful. We'll be fine, though. Hey... I can write a song about it or something, right? As for the other crap that's been happening to me... hey, more songs. I knew there had to be a good side to this somewhere. Well, not so much of a good side, maybe, but a different side that doesn't suck as much. I'll go with that for now.

To everything there is a season

2006-06-18T13:53:00.000-04:00

And this would be the season for haircuts, mild shoping, and trips to the beach house. Lets start with the haircut bit.

On Friday, I met for lunch with John Sauvey, who was here for an audition in the city. After he was done, he had jus enough time for lunch with me before running to the airport and going back home. Ah, well... at least we got to spend a little time. Anyway, it was nice, and we were both really grateful for the date. After parting ways, I went to the Lincoln Center campus to turn in some graded work and do a little busy work online. Then I decided I'd get some cigarette treats for people... beach house trip in a couple of days, you see, and I wanted to come bearing gifts.

When one wishes to buy fine tobacco products in New York, there's only one place to go: Nat Sherman. It's a posh cigarette shop just across the street from the New York Public Library, and the Nat Sherman products are the best all-natural whatevers anywere. I walked from 59th to 42nd, then turned the corner and found the place. When I got in there, I was overwhelmed by the poshness. Very swank. Lots of finery and shiny wood and all that kind of thing. Anyway, I bought some cigars, which are always nice at the beach, filled some orders for specific Nat Sherman cigarettes, and got a bag of pipe tobacco. WHen I left, I looked pretty damn cool with my super-neat Nat Sherman shopping bag. No, really. I actually had someone stop me and ask about it. Ooooooooh.

That being accomplished, I decided I would get a haircut. Someone once told me that you should have your hair cut before going to the beach so the harsh beachy conditions don't do too much damage. I don't know if it's true, but I haven't had a haircut since August, so it couldn't be a bad idea. I found a spot off of 40th street that seemed pretty nice and was run by a bunch of Russian women. In about fifteen minutes I had been convinced that not only did I need a haircut, but I also needed long layers and highlights. Who was I to argue? These are professionals. Besides, they kept yelling in a frightening combination of broken English and excitable Russian... and giving me wine. Three glasses later, I was theirs to toy with. And it was pretty good red wine, actually. Given that it was free, it couldn't have been much better. Anyway, here's the result:

I don't know if the photos show things very well, but I tried, so there you go. And the best news of all: I still liked it after the wine wore off.

Today will be a day spent preparing for the trip to Florida. John and Chuck are already on the road, and they'll arive at the end of their drive some time late tonight. Then they get a day's worth of private together time before I fly there on Tuesday morning. I would have gone sooner, but I have to do that silly teaching thing on Monday. Anyway, I'll be back on Saturday, so I'll be back in time for teaching again with no worries. That's the nice thing about having them once a week... I get the rest of the week to hop on a plane and do stuff.

So, in preparation for the trip, I have to do some light shopping. Target awaits me. I haven't bought a bathing suit since the weight loss, so that's definitely on the list. Mind you, I still have no business being seen in a bathing suit in public, but that's not going to stop me. Besides, who's out there that I have to impress right now? John could care less. Chuck's like a brother. And the whales might make an unprecedented visit to the gulf coast to visit a possible relative. So yeah, I think I'll be fine. I'll buy a cover-up, of course, but I think it'll be okay. There'll be pictures, sure, but don't expect too many to include me in my new swimsuit. I'm brave, but I'm no sadist. Okay, maybe a little bit of a sadist, but I have my limits, and so does the world of cyberspace.

Mere observations

2006-06-14T22:15:00.000-04:00

I have the time these days for things I don't typically do. Reading magazines, for instance. And, thanks to my recent perusal of Time Out New York, I've discovered that my husband is a male diva. Don't worry... I'll explain.

According to Time Out, a male diva, or "divo," is best described as an "impatient, demanding, entitled he-beast." These are men who take themselves extremely seriously, men who actually manage to make narcissism and competitiveness look good, even kinda hot. Not only did the magazine give examples of famous people through history who fit the bill (if you want the list, go find it), but it also provided a list of "divo rules" which all divos live by. I read through them, sighing and shaking my head at each one... there, too, goes my John. Here... you'll see what I mean:

1. The divo has an entourage. John not only has an entourage... he has acolytes. No matter where he goes, he accumulates followers. He also gathers folks who don't so much idolize him as want to be around him because he makes them laugh like hell and makes for really snazzy conversation. Those end up as followers, too, though... eventually.

2. The divo never sits down on the subway. This one has yet to be seen, since he hasn't moved here yet. Still, I wouldn't doubt that this ends up being the case. Why, after all, would he want to mess up all the new clothes?

3. The divo has perfect hair. Dear gods, don't get me started on his hair. Yes, it's long and in a pony tail, but I've said it for years... they use the back of his swishing-hair head for Pantene commercials. Most importantly, he loves his hair and its appearance more than just about anything in the whole wide everything.

4. The divo "trims the hedges". Yeah, um... just take my word for it on this one.

5. The divo stays in shape. Lately, it's become a bit of an obsession of his.

6. The divo is impeccably dressed. Yeah, this actually includes John these days. He's been a bit of a clotheshorse since his fitness kick has proven so fruitful. And who could blame him?

7. The divo doesn't merely eat, he dines. Okay... he sort of falls under this category by default. He's a finicky eater, so he sort of has to favor the nicer, better-cooked foods. Still, it counts.

8. The divo doesn't take one for the team. This one goes without saying. John will be the first to tell anyone that he won't put himself out for anyone unless he's the anyone. He'll help a friend, of course, and help him quite a lot, to the point of indispensibility, but I wouldn't go so far as to say he'll make significant sacrifices... thing is, he has logical reasoning for this. As far as he's concerned, the people closest to him are self-sufficient badasses like him, so they shouldn't really need him to go any kind of extra mile on their behalf. Besides, it's every man for himself, and he's as good an everyman as any.

9. The divo doesn't do shots. Again, by default. the man doesn't drink. At all. Go figure.

10. The divo enjoys cocktails. Sort of. John actually really enjoys being around cocktails, and around people enjoying cocktails on his behalf. That counts, I think.

11. The divo weekends and summers out of town. Typically, no, but only because of financial constraints and scheduling issues with work. Whenever possible, John fits this category just fine. This, of course, is in light of next week's John-centered trip to the Florida beach house. So there you go.

Apparently, this is the make-up of a divo: 30% self-importance, 10% insecurity, 10% envy, 10% brushed cotton, and 40% narcissism. Some might argue that this pertains to most all western men, but I disagree. A divo wears this all on his well-groomed shoulder, unabashedly and unyieldingly flashing its splendiferous grandeur to the lesser-than-him world of stylistically bland and socially flailing underlings. He's fully aware of his pompocity, but he also believes in it fully, and believes in himself just as much. Sounds scary, no?

Actually, it's rather fun to watch.

Drifting through June

2006-06-09T20:11:00.000-04:00

I've been to Texas and back, and I've been in New York for almost a week now. I flew in on Monday, taught on Monday night, then did very little since then. Okay, I recorded some, and I've spent a little time with family... I saw a movie, read a book, whatever. I'm not entirely bored, though. I'm writing things, at least. Hopefully, a new song or two will come out of me in the next few. Oh, and we've officially nailed down our new apartment... it's a three bedroom in Brooklyn, and I'll be moving there in July. John joins me there in August, so that gives me time to go over there and spruce it up before he moves in with the vast majority of our stuff. I'll be painting, wallpapering, cleaning, and moving things around, so I doubt I'll be bored much.

Thing is, I'm bored now.

Not really, though.

Oh, I don't know. I'm just a little lost. I'm so used to doing twelve things at once, and doing one thing at once seems a little bizzare. I'm not sure I love it, but I'm willing to try. So now I'm faced with what to do with the rest of June. Mondays are already taken care of, since I'm teaching then. Tuesdays through Fridays are free, so I'll be doing some CD-related mixing work, a little work here and there on the conference I'm trying to put together, and some early packing before the move to the new place begins. Of course, there's a week in there when I'll be in Florida... Panama City Beach is calling. Let's see... that's not till the week of the 20th. So this week is about teaching, a recording session, and packing. Oh, and writing a little. Okay. That's more than one thing. I'm starting to feel better. Then I'm in Florida, and then I'm back for more of the same. And that's June. Man, that sounds lame. Oh well... it's something, yeah?

July... well, that's different. That's going to be more my speed. I'll be taking two classes, moving into my new place, finishing up my CD, and prepping everything for John's move. I'll also be in touch with people for the conference, performing every weekend or so, and writing regularly, which will feel really good to be doing again. Okay. It'll be fine. Everything'll be fine.

When it comes down to it, though, I'm petrified. John's moving up here, and I'm elated about that. Just really scared about it, too. Really scared. Um... really, really. No idea why. I'll have to think on that one. I miss him like mad, but I'd love it if he could just be here all of a sudden, without the whole moving-in part. I can handle stress. John-related stress, on the other hand... I can handle that, too, but it takes extra coffee. it's killing me that I'm not able to fix up the new place just yet... some silliness about the current inhabitants still being there. And, given that they're my relatives, I ought extend the courtesy of waiting till they move out before repainting and wallpapering. Then, there's the issue of my getting the apartment ready for both John and me... in large part (if not entirely) without John here to help. I'm sure he'll give plenty of opinions on what should be done, but he won't have much time here to help do any of it, so it all rests on me to accomplish. Yeah, okay, I'll do it. But it's impossible to avoid the pressure this whole situation implies, and I'm not particularly enjoying it... let's just say it's not my favorite kind of stress. John, a well-established New York skeptic, may either love or hate his first year in New York based on what I end up doing with the apartment. Great. No pressure, right? Ah, screw it. How badly could I possibly botch things? Besides, the place is huge... the worst that could happen is that he hates it, and we can give him his own little room somewhere in the apartment, a space in which he can execute his every slightest decorative bidding. At least, that's the fall-back plan I'm going with for now. See? Fool-proof. Emily-proof, even.

Planes, something, and automobiles

2006-06-02T22:46:00.000-04:00

I'm going on record in saying that I absolutely love train travel. At lest, train travel under certain conditions. But when those conditions are met, there really isn't any other way I'd rather travel over long distances, crazy as that may seem. If it isn't obvious, I had a lovely time on my trip... I'll provide you the sort version of my travel log. (And yes, I kept a travel log... how do you go on a cross-sountry train trip and not keep a travel log?)

On Monday, I arrived at Penn Station with no hassle. I got there in plenty of time to print out my pre-paid tickets, then waited around with the other expectant passengers to see and hear the announcement of my departure gate. Once we got the information we were waiting for, a herd of us slowly made our way through a turnstile, down an escalator, out to a platform, and down the length of the outside of our train until we each reached our designated car, based on our travel destinations. I was headed for Chicago, so I'd be in the last car. I sat in coach, next to a really nice woman, a special ed teacher who was headed home to Indiana.The seats were very large, very comfortable, with footrests and leg room aplenty. There was also an electrical outlet right next to me, which made my movie-watching and general laptop endeavors a sweet reality. Dinner was spent in the dining car with a retired couple on their way home from seeing their grandkids... they lost their house in a tornado a year ago, but they're in a nicer house now and doing very well. Then, I went to sleep in my chair... not bad, considering it was a little tough getting perfectly comfortable. Still, I've certainly been through worse.

The next day, we arrived in Chicago. I skipped out on breakfast, not feeling too hungry. It was about 10:00 AM when we got to Union Station, and I made my way immediately to the first class lounge, which I was now allowed to use because I'd gotten a sleeper for the second train. Oh yes... things were going to be a little different from this point on. I got free coffee and soft drinks and snacks, complimentary lugage storage while I waited for my departure time, and lots of cushy seating and big screen TVs everywhere. Since I had a few hours to kill, I walked around in Chicago for a couple of hours, then read my book in a park across the street from the station before going back inside and sitting around with my free coffee and couches. We were then escorted to our train, which was a two-story superliner. I would be in a roomette for this leg of the journey, a small sleeper designed for two and with plenty of room for little me. It was awesome... the food was already included in the price of the ticket at this point, plus complimentary bottled water, juices, shower facilities, and a 24-hour attendant who saw to my every need, including turning down and making up my bed like some kind of ninja... I have no idea how she knew when I would be gone or how long I'd be, but she always did.

The meals on this train also included more great conversation with interesting people. A mother with two small kids told me she was excited about having gone back to school to get her BA, and was looking forward to continuing on to her masters. Another woman was visiting relatives she'd gotten separated from when she escaped from her home in New Orleans during Huricane Katrina. A lovely elderly genleman was on his way to his 29th national bowling tournament, and was looking forward to seeing San Antonion again for the first time in about twenty years. Pretty cool. Oh... and on top of all that, the food was great. Needless to say, I was never bored... between the conversation at mealtime, the reading, the laptop for movies or work or journaling, the newspaper the attendant brought to me in the morning... I definitely found ways to keep myself occupied, and it was never a challenge to do so. By the time I got to Dallas, I actually didn't want to get off the train.

The verdict, of course, is a glowing review of my overall experience. Frankly, I never want to fly anywhere again. Okay, sure, it took a while to get from point A to point B, but it was so enjoyable and relaxed that I could have stayed another day. There's a lot to be said for looking out the window and seeing the country as you travel through it, of meeting is people, even in passing... Yeah, this was good, and I highly recommend it, especially if you get a roomette. the train rocks around a little, and it's a world of small spaces... it's also not a great place to be if you can't stand being around people much at mealtime (although there are ways around that, but that takes the fun out of things). If those things aren't an issue, though, and you have the time in your travel agenda, definitely take a look at AmTrak. There. Hopefully, someone from AmTrak will come across this blatant little commercial and thinking kindly enough of me to treat me to a free ride. You know... for all this good press I'm giving them. But seriously... if you've never done it, you should, and make your own judgment. Obviously, I've made mine. I don't think it'll be long before I'm on my next train trip, and I almost don't care where it's going, whether it's to glory, love, or Clarksville.

All hail the power of MySpace

2006-05-26T23:06:00.000-04:00

It's taking over every one of my friends' lives, so I can't help but be awed by its potency. John only recently discovered it... two days ago, in fact... and he doesn't seem to be able to get enough. He's been posting pictures and hunting down friends for hours and hours at a time, which is sort of cute and all, but wow. I mean, he's really putting a lot of effort into it. As it turns out, so are a lot of people I know. Okay, fine. I'll join in. I was already on MySpace, but I'd only gone through the motions, really, doing very little to jazz up my page. Now I'm pleased to announce that I'm the proud parent of two, count 'em, TWO MySpace pages. One is a regular one, which you find if you just type in "Emily McSpadden" when performing a name search; the other one can be found under the "MySpace Music" heading, using the same method of typing in my name. The nice thing about that second one is that there are four of my songs posted (two of them being brand new versions), so people get to hear what I'm up to. Oh, and I get to see how often each one's been listened to. Call me easy to impress, but I'm really diggin' on that feature.

We have a capacity now that we've never had before as a global community to stay in touch. We have the means to speak to one another in so many different ways, and it takes as much effort as brushing your teeth (or less, some would argue). It's marvelous. It's a testament to how far we've come as a society steeped in its own technlogical effervescence, floating along on the warm techno-neon glow of the cosmos-cloud we know as the internet. I'm a big fan. Still, it's a little weird. It's still impersonal, still detatched and aloof. The thing is, it's too easy. That's the strange thing about communication, about staying in touch. It used to be such an effort. Now that it's as simple as shooting an email off into the internet ether, we feel as though we're a little more conected than we would have been otherwise. I can't disagree with that. And yet, how connected are we really?

I've got friends all over the place who I keep up with via emals, MySpace, Friendster, and even blogs like this one. Basically, it keeps me informed. But does that necessarily mean that I reach out to them at every opportunity, or at least a fraction of those opportunities, given that there are now so many? Or do I just appease my curiosity, then go about my day without saying so much as a hello? And should I even bother with this question... shouldn't I just be grateful that I have this contact at all, impersonal though it may be? I don't know... I'm a bit torn on the issue. I have a few blogs that I hit regularly, read up on current events in friends' lives... why do I do it? Is it my own little reality television show, played out before me at my choosing? Am I searching for connection that I don't really have to work for?

That's the rub, folks... connection doesn't just happen. Okay, yes, there are people you meet and instantly hit it off with, and that's what we like to call "connection." That, however, isn't the sort I'm referring to here. Keeping a connection alive and kicking is a labor, whether it be one of love or morbid curiosity. The easier it gets, the lazier we seem to become about it. Some people are better at it than others, and I admire that tenacity, or that talent, or that genetic coding, or whatever it is that makes it possible for those people who are the envy of slacker friends everywhere. Most of us, though, have a little trouble with connection. We do what we can, but, to be honest, we could do so much more, and we know it.

So then we get really weird about it. We post things, like blogs and websites and pages on MySpace and Friendster, like bait on a hook. Then, we toss it in... and we wait. We wait for someone to do the work of finding us. We figure we've done the work of putting the baited hook out there, so that amounts to our end of the effort. So, like lowest-effort early morning fishing, we stick the pole in the dirt and do other things, then check once in a while to see if we've gotten any nibbles. Sometimes we do, and presto, we're in touch. Sometimes, when we've got nothing better to do, we go on a slightly more proactive hunt, seeking out other people's hooks. After that, nothing much changes, for the most part. You know where people are, as well as a general idea of what they're doing, but you don't necessarily go out of your way any more than before to make that contact meaningful. It's just strange, when you think about it, especially when, at the root of things, we all really do mean to keep in touch.

Perhaps it's a harsher view than I ought take on modern interaction among old friends, but it's how it's struck me of late. I'd love to get together with a lot of the people I run into online, these old friends from years and years of personal history that I forever feel fondly toward, and yet it hardly ever takes place. Oddly enough, the lack of effort seems to be mutual... there aren't loads of people clammoring to hook up with me for a coffee once they've seen my website or sent me an email for old time's sake. Should I take offense, or feel guilty, or allow myself to feel the pang of not being missed quite enough for that extra level of effort? Should they feel that about me in return?

Who knows. Chances are, we're all just too damn busy to do much more. I know that when I do try to hook up with old frends and catch up on things, it takes days to get to everyone on the list of folks I schedule in, I never make it all the way through said list, and I've exentually exhausted my vacation and myself in the process of the amity-fueled exertion. Is it worth it? Yeah, I think so. It's been worth it every time I've done it. Why don't I do it more often? Because I'd never see John if I tried to see everyone else I wanted to during my breaks in Texas, or my free time wherever else I go. That's what I suppose it comes down to, then... we have new lives, new here-and-now relationships... wedging the old ones in becomes an artificial excercise, well-meaning though it may be. It's still a good idea to do it, though, from what I can tell. And as often as possible, if you ask me. We only have one shot at this round of living, after all.

I'll be in Dallas for about five days next week. If there are any takers on a coffee, let me know, and I'm there.

Oh yeah... proof

2006-05-26T22:42:00.000-04:00

It's been long enough since I've posted a picture. This one's as good as any I can think of to show the world.

For anyone who needs the clarification, John and Chuck are the pretty ones, and I'm the plain one on the right. The image is a bit small, I know, but it was this or fuzzy resolution, and I chose size defficiency over blurr. The masses will forgive, no doubt. They've learned to expect dissapointing results from me on these matters.

He came, he saw, he didn't hate it

2006-05-22T21:43:00.000-04:00

Which is, by the way, a pretty big deal.

John got here on Friday night to spend the weekend with me, although he also came because he had a meeting with a professor on Monday at Lincoln Center to discuss his new teaching associate status at Fordham. That Friday, I had spent most of the day in rehearsal and performance with the choir. As soon as I got out of that, I went home, did some last minute cleaning around the place, and made my way to the airport to meet John. It wasn't exactly necessary that I meet him out there... John is perfectly capable of getting to me from the airport without my holding his hand. Still, I felt like meeting him there... he's come to see me here twice before now, and I didn't meet him at the airport then. I figured I could manage it this time around, just for fun. I took a taxi to Laguardia, and the cabbie dropped me off at the wrong terminal. Perfect. This meant that I had to take a bus to the terminal I was supposed to go to in the first place, and that took about forty-five minutes. By the time I got there, John had already been waiting a litle while, although not too terribly long, thankfully.

So no problems, right? Find each other, kiss kiss, go home? Not exactly. Found each other, sure. No problems there. Finding a cab, on the other hand, was a complete impossibility. This meant we'd have to take the long way home... the bus to the subway to a cab in the Bronx. To be honest, it didn't matter. We were both just so damn happy to be together again. We could have been on our bus/subway/cab adventure for twice as long, and neither of us would have cared. How strange, the passage of time in the company of a wish fulfilled. It passes, just as any other span of time might, and perhaps it feels just as long or just as brief. And yet, when we invest ourselves in such a way as to love the moment, it changes entirely. I could have stayed on that bus from Laguardia to Harlem for an entire day. I don't know that John would agree with that one, but I can't help that I was that happy.

The next day was the Fordham commencement ceremony... I had to sing, so I went off to do my thing while John stayed home and slept in. Afterwards, we went to Queens to have dinner with my family... Aunt Jenny, Uncle Willie, cousins Mark and Jane, another cousin, Allan (fresh from his masters program in France and some general hanging-out in Barcelona... what a horrible fate that must have been for him), and three other people who were friends of Aunt Jenny's who I don't know. Anyway, the usual ensued... food followed by crackaoke. When the crackaoke wasn't enough, Uncle Willie suggested we go to a Filipino restaurant/bar for more... um... food and crackaoke. John, of course, was the only white guy there, which I think he kind of enjoyed. I ate strange foods that were offered to us (acting as John's proxy), and we listened to a Maroon 5 cover band rock out Filipino-style, while frightening gyrations emerged from the younger members of the audience, including one particularly enthusiastic, particularly gay young man. Odd entertainment, but entertainment nonetheless. Hot fun in the city.

Sunday was a day in Manhattan for the two of us. A rainy day, but that hardly mattered... what's a little rain when you have umbrellas? This is one of the lessons I've learned during my time in New York thus far: if it's raining, and you have either an umbrella or a water-shedding piece of upper-body attire with a hood on it available, you have no real excuse for not going about your day. A street fair was in full swing (in a full rainstorm) in midtown, so we walked around out there, splashing around, bumping umbrellas with the other brave Manhattanites, eating amazing street food and making the odd purchase here and there. Shortly after that, the rain stoped. That certainly made walking around a little easier. We walked, shopped, walked, walked, walked, saw a movie, and walked. I couldn't have been happier. New York is one of my fondest loves, and I've never made any secret of that. But when John is here with me, it comes inexplicably alive in ways I've never known before. John's always been good for that... bringing this freakish sort of fantastic magical wonder into the mix, no matter where we are or what we're doing. I can't explain it too eloquently... it's so good, it's ridiculous.

Today was John's day to meet with the professor from his department. We got up and out with plenty of time to make his scheduled slot at Lincoln Center, and his meeting went very well, so we celebrated by, well, walking around. I showed John around the Lincold Center complex, and then we... um... walked around a bit more. Okay, a lot more. And it was marvelous. Really. We must have laughed and played back and forth nonstop for hours, between the walking and the popping in and out of shops and cafes... just talking and laughing and making no sense to anyone else in the world but each other. It was disgusting.

A little after 5pm, I put him in a cab and sent him to the airport. No tears, no clingy oh-god-I-wish-you-didn't-have-to-go-because-I'll-just-die-without-you-here moments, no sappy weirdness whatsoever. Just a couple of kisses, a big hug, and the knowledge that we'll be together again in about a week when I go back to Texas for a brief, week-long respite. So, then, what to take from the weekend's experience... the bigest, wildest, most exhilarating thing about the past three days? John had a great time.

Just as I've never made any mystery of my love for this city, John's never been shy about his disdain for it. He himself would have told you it was founded on nothing more than what he'd seen in movies, coupled with a general dislike of change. He warms up to the city a little more each time he's here, but never in leaps and bounds. Still, I kept hope alive. And this time, I think it actullay took. We both know things will be hard, different, strange, whatever. We've been young and stupid long enough to figure that much out. There's something different about this big move for us, though, something I don't think either one of us was counting on. John said it best yesterday, and again today, while we were out walking in the city together: "This city has a way of motivating you... of making you want to do big things." Funny... I've always felt that way about John. I know what he means, though, and I agree with him. We've always inspired one another to dream big, hunger big, and imbibe the most that we can from the world. If we can do that here, we might just be happier than anyone has ever been in the history of the entire world. I'm just saying... it could happen. Or we could just end up so happy that we explode into little pieces and pass into oblivion as spontaneously combusted love-bits. That's possible, too, I suppose. If it's alright with everyone, I'm rooting for the first option.

Oh, the drama

2006-05-17T23:12:00.000-04:00

Okay... I promise to give the sort version...

Tuesday: got to my office to begin working at around 3pm.
Wednesday: left the office at around 7pm, went home for a quick shower and a change of clothes, stopped at Reuben's place for about a half hour and a beer, then went back to the office for more work.
Thursday: Left the office to print my papers at 1pm, then went to my 1:30 class, followed by my 3:30 class, handing in my corresponding papers at each one. Had dinner with Miraj, went to his place to do more work on another paper, went home at 2:30am, slept like the dead.
Friday: got up at 8am, did more work on the paper from the night before, recorded in Brooklyn with Craig, went home to do more work on my paper, packed my bag, left the apartment (by then, it was about 4am the next day)
Saturday: arrived at Laguardia airport, got stopped at the security check and had my bags searched, had to run like a crazy person to get on the plane while they called my name over the airport loudspeaker... watched "King Kong" on the plane, finished my paper just before we landed... met up with John, Jay, Nate, and Chuck at the airport; I went with John, Jay, and Nate to Arlington to get some things from the martial arts supply store (no idea why... just something John really wanted to do)... then we went home, and Chuck and I spent the rest of the day (until 2am) buying things for the next day's surprise graduation barbeque for John, in bed by 4am.
Sunday: Yeah... got up at 7am, got to University of Dallas at 8:30, John realized he'd left our graduation caps at home at 8:31... I was back at the house by 8:45, and pulled over by a cop on my way back to the university at 8:50. Finally made it to the campus by 9:10 (the ceremony started at 9), somehow snuck into our seating (that's it's own story, which I don't have the energy to go into right now)... met with professors and family afterwards, had a Olive Garden lunch with the fam, went to the tattoo shop to hang out with friends (and distract John while folks got stuff ready at home), went home to surprise John, had a great barbecue complete with cake and impromptu swinging of sticks... John then went to bed, everyone went home, Chuck and I cleaned up, and I finally collapsed at midnight.
Monday: Slept like a champ... didn't move till about 10am; bumbed around the house for a while, ran to Starbucks to email some things off (since the internet was down at the house), went with John to the tattoo shop, this time to actually get tattoos (I got one, he got two... that doesn't adequately depict how that went, so trust me when I say that John's were nice enough and mine was a masterpiece... no, really), went home after many hours at the tattoo shop, called it an early night at 1am.
Tuesday: Got up at around 8am, visited with my boys in Fort Worth over breakfast, was back in Dallas in time to say goodbye to John, then went with Chuck to look at a potential site for his offices before he took me to the airport... got stopped at security again... barely made it on the plane again... got back to New York, took a cab home, left my phone in the cab, ran to meet the cabby a few blocks away to get it back (after some frantic calls from our apartment land line), got home and did a little work on my last project, went to sleep around 3am.

To sum up... I'm friggin' tired. My trip to Texas was hardly a vacation... more of a marathon, really. Today was like a relaxation treat of sorts; I had a choir rehearsal for this Saturday's Fordham commencement, went to the Psychology department office to tie up a few loose ends, and went into the city to meet with the guy who I think will be doing my mastering (we actually mastered a song, and I'm pretty stinkin' happy with what he did, so now I'd like to announce that I will be taking donations for the mastering fund)... see? Nice, relaxing day. Tomorrow will be a little like today was, except for recording instead of mastering. Friday is a little bigger deal, since it's a full day of rehearsals, followed by a trip to the airport to meet John when he arrives. Well, bring it on. I could really care less about how busy things get, or how weird my schedule becomes. That last part about John coming to New York this weekend makes everything else seem like a twitch, a blink, a shrug... a nothing. My favorite boy is coming to visit, and I couldn't care less about anything else. Dramatic as things can often seem, what with the double-all-nighter and the graduation and the barbecue and the plane trips and the lost phone and the CD stuff and the getting ready for John to get here (oh, the LAUNDRY)... the hell with all of it. I'll be seeing my boy in a couple of days, and that's enough motivation for me to turn the world sideways if I have to. And, God help me, even do laundry.

Okay, okay, I give

2006-05-08T11:31:00.000-04:00

What's the use of fighting it, right? Besides, I haven't got the energy right now... I've become a sad, mushy mound of limp, listless acquiescence. No shame in it, though. I'm a grad student. I'm academic slave labor. I should be used to having no will of my own by now.

And what fight have I relinquished? The battle to pull a fast one on a few people, and have a little fun with graduation. Looking at it now, it's not so big a thing. Kind of a bummer, but I'll live.

Basically, it was going to be a surprise, mostly on my parents. John's graduation commencement is this coming weekend, and I was going to be flying in anyway, so that was no surprise. And my parents were going to come, and wouldn't they be surprised when they looked up to see me walking across the stage, too. Since I officially graduated in August of last year, and University of Dallas doesn't have a walk in the summer, I was informed that my walk could take place in this May's commencement instead. So I thought it might be interesting if I made arrangements to walk, and then sort of surprise everybody with it. At first, I was going to surprise John, too, but I decided that was probably a really bad idea, since he'd get aggravated with me for trying to steal his thunder or something. So I told him, and he seemed fine with it. Then, to make sure things were going according to plan, I called my parents to make sure they were coming to see John's graduation. Naturally, my dad wanted to cancel... something about a motorcycle ride with friends. So I try to subtlely convince him to come anyway, to no avail. Mom will be there, though. I decided to go ahead and tell her, since the surprise seemed to be spoiled anyway, with dad unable to come. Besides, I figured it would at least be a surprise to John's family, right?

No, not so much. It turns out that John had already let the cat out of the bag with at least Bob, his stepdad. At that point, I was ready to be done with the ruse. I told him to go ahead and let everyone know. Besides, he then told me that he didn't feel it was appropriate to make that sort of thing a surprise anyway. Frankly, I couldn't see what it would hurt, but I understand. He then added, in so many words, his other opinion... It's his special day, and my sort-of-special day, the way he sees it. Fine... I understand his point of view. It's wrong, but I understand it.

So here's my vent: It IS special for me!

Okay, so I was done with my degree in August. So I've been living in New York since before that. So I got my diploma from University of Dallas in December. So I'm finishing my first year of my new program. Does that mean I don't get to walk in my commencement for my masters program? Hardly. I had the option of walking last May, before having completed my masters requirements. I chose not to... I hadn't graduated yet, and it felt strange that I should go throught the motions when I hadn't really accomplished what we were supposed to be celebrating. A lot of people do it, but it wasn't for me. Besides, it's pretty amazing to think that both John and I could walk in the same ceremony. That's damn cool, if you ask me. He graduated from undergrad two years before I did... I took a year off in California, then came back to finish. I was at his ceremony, and he was at mine. Now we can walk together... unless we walk together at our doctoral commencement, I don't see how we can top this.

How does that not mean the world to me? How is that not important?

The point it, it's my commencement, too. And yes, it's my official commencement ceremony. I'm not trying to take anything away from John's experience. How could I? It means something entirely different to him than it does to me. His accomplishment over these past three years culminates at his commencement, and he deserves his accolades. At the same time, I would think, so do I. When I found out I couldn't walk in the summer, I made the best of it, convncing myself and everyone else that it wasn't important to me. What choice did I have? Besides, I found it unlikely that I'd be trying to walk the following May... it seemed so far away, and I was sure I'd have actually gotten over it by then. Then, when May was getting closer, I started to think otherwise.

Actually, it's Chuck's fault.

It was his idea. We were talking about John's upcoming graduation, and then he brought up the idea of me walking also, if it was even possible. I thought about it for a second, dismissed it, then realized I wasn't actually dismissing it. When I walked at my undergraduate commencement, I was happy beyond words. I worked my ass off to get there... I'd been through a whole hell of a lot more than most undergrads who were at commencement that day. I'd been through cancer, the loss and reclaiming of my voice, two engagements, a marriage, a year of living on a mountain in California with a bunch of yogists... among other things. I was older than I had imagined myself at my undergrad commencement, but I was there, damn it, and I was all smiles.

My masters was its own battle; I worked four jobs at once while going to school full time, fought the administration at the school for the opportunity to attain my MA instead of an MPsy (which meant completing a language requirement and a thesis the size of the headaches it gave me), spent too many week-long stints in the hospital due to bronchial crises (which, incidentally, I've had none of since leaving Texas), and lived a life for the sake of academic advancement and passion-chasing that no one seemed to understand. I've come through the other side, and it was anything but easy. It was late nights, lots of ridiculous work, and sacrifices the likes of which I've never made before. I wanna celebrate.

I'm walking on Sunday, May 14th, at the University of Dallas campus, with my best friend in all the world, in recognition of our hard work toward successful completion of our masters degrees. His is an MH (Humanities) with a classics concentration, mine's an MA in psychology with a clinical concentration. We deserve this... both of us... and we've worked extremely hard to get here. And when we walk on Sunday, I'm guessing we'll both be all smiles.

The horn is just sitting there, so I figure, hey...

2006-05-03T23:02:00.000-04:00

I might as well blow a little tune, yeah? So okay, it's not so much that it's bragging... it's just all a little weird. Extremely cool, but weird and random.

For starters, today was the day that the Emeril Live show was aired on the Food Network. I got a close-up. A few seconds long, too... no skimpy little close-ups for me, thank you very much. Aside from that, we made it into a few pan shots and wide shots of the audience, so we were all happy with the results. In addition, Francisco and Cat came over to watch the show with Jane and me, and Francisco made an amazing pasta dinner for all four of us, coupled with a wine that he spent a lot of time choosing to go well with the pasta cheeses and a lovingly prepared garlic bread that we polished off almost too quickly. I'd taken the liberty to pck up an amaretto cake on my way home that afternoon, so we finished up with a slice of that. Very nice, on the whole. Yeay. Anyway, we didn't have any means of recording it, but Chuck got it on TiVo back in Dallas, so there's a chance I'll get a copy of it eventually, if I find that I just can't live without it. I think I'll be fine without, but it's nice to know it's out there.

Yesterday wasn't too shabby, either. The world premier of the Francis Xavier documentary took place on Fordham campus, at Duane Library. It was a standing-room-only crowd, especially since Liam Neeson, the narrator of the film, was rumored to make an appearance at the premier. He didn't, of course, but it was still pretty damn cool. Before the film began, they asked all of the people there who participated in the making of the film to stand up. Apparently, I was one of very few participants in attendance (besides the composer... he was there, and looking very nervous)... I stood up, and there was a lot of applause, which was ackward, since I was one of the only people standing. I sat down as soon as I could, but people kept clapping and patting me on the back and congratulating me and such. The film started shortly afterward, and I have to admit I was surprised... t was really top notch, very professional, and Liam Neeson was the perfect voice-over. The music was great, and the vocal portions came off really well... we sounded like a much larger group than we actually were. I could hear myself in the group, but I wasn't sticking out or anything, which was my main concern. When it was over, the applause was huge... people kept the applause going all the way through the credits. And then, when the credits got down to the musicians, a welcome surprise... rather than list us as an ensemble, our names were listed individually, in large case, just like everyone else. Wow. That was pretty great, I'll say.

Afterwards, we made our way to a reception on the third floor, and people contiued to approach me and congratulate me, which was strange, because I didn't realize that anyone knew who I was. Many of them were Jesuits, and some were those involved with the film that I'd had contact with during planning and recording. The writers and producers talked to me, and I had a nice chat with the composer, who was very gracious and complemented me for... get this... my professionalism. "You were so professional, and it was nice to have a seasoned artist there when most of the other singers didn't have recording experience... you sounded great and you took a leadership role, and it helped a lot." Really? I thought he might have confused me with someone else... I still think he did, but I'm not complaining. I thanked him, and told him to keep me in mind if he ever had need for a mezzo again. I got my free wine and cheese, said some goodbyes, and made my way home. Cool... I was in a movie with Liam Neeson. Sort of. John likes to remind me that it's not exactly the case, so let me rephrase... my voice is in a movie with Liam Neeson's voice. Still pretty kick-ass.

Right. Back to the real world. I have class tomorrow, followed by working on three papers, an IRB application, and a conference proposal. Friday is a recording day... all day, hopefully. This weekend will have to include a laundry day, since I've pretty much run out of clothes at this point. Besides, it's high time I tried to clean my room, which is pretty scary. Whatever. I'll be home in about a week to watch John graduate, then I'm coming back here to tie up the rest of my loose ends before summer. That's fine... for the record, I'm still having a blast.

One week down

2006-04-29T23:39:00.000-04:00

And believe me, I won't miss it. Let's see... so Tuesday was a day spent working in my office, which sucked (except for Tai Chi... this instructor I'm working with is really too amazing). Wednesday, however, definitely topped it. First, there was colloquium. No problem... sat through, it, stomached it, whatever. Then I grabbed a quick lunch, changed clothes, and went off to teach my women's self defense workshop. There were five girls who came in for the workshop, and I was surprised to see how pumped everybody was about what I had to offer. In the end, I think I even managed to get a couple of them eager to pick up martial arts on a pretty serious level, which was my primary goal. After that, I went to my office for more work, then went to fencing to coach a couple of my guys. From there, I did about an hour on the eliptical in the gym, then... wait for it... headed back into my office for more awesome fun work stuff. And that's where I stayed... that's where I stayed until 8:30 the next morning. It was either an all-nighter, or my Thursday presentation just wasn't happening. Anyway, I got it done, then went home for a nap.

A couple of hours later, I was back on campus, back in Dealy Hall, back in the psych department. I gave my presentation, which went pretty well, then went to my philosophy of psychology course, which I always love. Then it was dinner with Miraj before heading home to collapse... but not before writing my abstract for my thesis addendum, which was due on Friday morning. On Friday morning, I got to Rose Hill campus, turned in the abstract, hopped on a van to the Lincoln Center campus, and finished my last day of teaching lab. Afterwards, I went downstairs for a meeting with Dr. Wertz, Dr. Ponterotto, and three students from the philosophy of psych course who also want to get involved wit my little scheme... Miraj, Nava, and Marie... and I told them all my vision for this qualitative conference I want to throw next year at Fordham. Everyone was extremely happy about everything I threw at them, and the contributions and suggestions I got from them were unbelievable (keep in mind, this is a pretty energetic, super-enthusiastic bunch of academics who are popping at the seams to talk abot qualitative research in psychology... and stuff). I walked out of there with some amazing ideas, as well as the charge to put together a two to three page proposal for the structure of the conference. Then it was time for recording in Brooklyn with Craig... and we laid down the last song for the CD, which is apparently Craig's favorite, and that made me feel pretty damn good. When I got home, I got an email from Dr. Hogue, who runs a program at CASA, and who I'd spoken to a few months ago about an internship... it looks like he wants to talk to me about working on an initiative for a treatment program for adolescent substance abusers (hopefully, it'll be a paid internship... that's what we'd discussed before, anyway, but who knows). I responded, confirming the date he suggested for our meeting at the end of May. Then I crashed, and it was pretty damn good. I must have slept for... jeeze... seven hours? That's, like, a record for me.

So next week will be a little different, but hopefully not as jam-packed with things I have to get done. I have big things to do, of course... finish up a presentation for a class on teaching, get moving on my papers, complete my survey for my thesis research, apply for my IRB (that's so I can give my survey to people and be ethical about my research at the same time... weird), and... um... other things that I can't remember. Sorry... I've pretty much checked out for the semester. I mean, it's gorgeous out here! The campus is covered in, like, tulips... no, seriously... and trees exploding with flowers... and the weather is absolutely perfect... it's gorgeous and sunny, but not hot... it's... what's the word... um... springlike? I don't think I've ever really had a spring, to be honest. That's what happens when you live in Texas... you don't get actual seasons... just names of seasons demarcated by times of the year, but lacking any kind of climate indication on seasonal shift. Anyway, given how perfect things are in terms of flora and fauna out here, it's pretty damn near impossible to be productive. Hell, I even had a picnic lunch on campus with a couple of philosophy guys after Tai Chi on Tuesday (which was held outside, of course)... so yeah, I'm pretty much done with the semester. At this point, it's all auto pilot. Good luck getting me to do anything inspired for the next couple of weeks. I mean, I'll do my best to fake it... just don't tell anyone I'm not exactly... um... fully invested, you could say. It'll be our little secret or whatever. Besides, who the hell reads this thing, right? Yeah, I think I'll be okay.

Waterlogged weekends and sweet serendipity

2006-04-24T20:30:00.000-04:00

Friday was a recording day in Brooklyn... after I'd finished teaching, of course. Got a lot done. In fact, I think I'm well on my way to being finished with the album. At least finished with it in a pre-mastering sense. There's more work to be done, so for those that are being impatient and won't leave me the hell alone with all their gripes, chill out... I'm getting there. Trust me... I'm not slacking off or anything. There's a lot of work going on in what I'm doing to these songs, so back off already.

Saturday was weird. I was asked to sing as part of a chamber ensemble for a soundtrack to a documentary on the life of St. Xavier (of Jesuit fame). Basically, it was me, my friend Cat from choir, a couple of other girls I didn't know, and a bunch of Jesuits, taking turns in and out of recording booths in a studio in midtown Manhattan. We laid down our individual vocals, did a couple of sectional takes, and we were done and out of there in something like two hours. Not bad, really, especially when you compare that to the hours and hours I'm used to spending in one studio session on my own crap. At least all I had to do on this thing was a bunch of vocals, which was a nice change of pace, believe me. After we got out of there, Cat and I were off in search of a Barnes and Noble (which we never found, strangely enough), on the way to which we stopped in at a martial arts supply store that we happened upon. There, I picked up a few things in preparation for the women's self defense workshop I'm teaching on Wednesday... some focus pads and a neat little book on Capoeira workouts. Then we walked around for another six hours or so, looking for that damned Barnes and Noble. Incidentally, it was raining buckets the entire time. Funny how rain doesn't seem to stop New York pedestrianism. My jeans were stemming water all the way up my leg, sure, but that didn't mean I should... I don't know... get out of the friggin' rain. No, I had an umbrella (or, as Cat pronounced it, to my chagrin, an UM-brella... silly northerners), so I was technically fine. Even after we gave up on our search and found ourselves at Chelsea Market, we were still good for another few miles. We did stop, though, for a gelatto, before calling it a day and swimming for the subway stop and a train to the Bronx.

The next day, I had a choir performance for some sort of incoming freshman event... that went smoothly enough. Easy music, quick little concert, done and done. From there, I spent the rest of the day locked in my office, taking a crack at the work that I knew lay before me. My Monday presentation was about half way finished when I left, as was the beginnings of my Thursday work. I even made a dent in some research for one of my other papers, which I swore I'd try to avoid at this point. So yes, there was still so much to be done, but I'd at least spent about seven hours on getting some of it out of the way, so there wasn't too much to beat myself up over at that point.

Then, this morning rolled around. I still hadn't finished my presentation for this evening, and I was a lost cause when it came to the work I needed to do for Thursday. In addition, I had a statistics class today, during which we were to hear the dreaded final exam test date. This is when my day started to get a little better.

Dr. Lewis told us that we wouldn't have a statistics final after all, but rather a make-believe methods section to a research project, in which we would be expected to incorporate the different methodological elements we'd learned over the course of the semester. This, in case anyone's wondering, is extremely good news. I'm already doing exactly that for my thesis, so all I have to do is add a little extra here and there, and statistics is done. I can't help but smile just thinking about it, even now. Ahhhhh... no statistics final. I wasn't looking forward to reliving the stress of the midterm, especially in the context of everything else that's on my plate right now.

This evening's Teaching of Psychology course, the one where I had to give my presentation, started an hour after statistics was over. I barely cranked out the materials for my presentation, but felt pretty scetchy about how the presentation ought to go. Apparently, I wasn't the only one... not only did the other students no understand what we were expected to do, but the professor didn't have a clear idea of who was supposed to present. My presentation, then, got bumped to two weeks from now, and I have plenty of time to thoroughly prepare, especially now that I know what I'm supposed to be doing. I'll say it again... Ahhhhhh.

So now I'm getting a little more work done in the office... just a little more. Tomorrow, I'll be on the phone with people, trying to get things finalized for my evaluation proposal presentation on Thursday... that one's going to be a hayride, let me tell you. I've also just found out that I have a meeting with Dr. Wertz and another professor at Lincoln Center on Friday (between my last bit of teaching for the semester and my recording studio time in Brooklyn that night) concerning my proposal for a qualitative conference at Fordham next year... apparently, I'm being taken more seriously than I thought, and they want to hear what I have to say so they can get in on the action. That's a pretty big deal, so I have to prepare for that meeting, or at least practice sounding like a little less of an idiot. Either way, I want to be ready. Of course, we can't forget the women's self defense workshop, which is definitely going to happen this Wednesday. I have to get my agenda together for that thing, which shouldn't be too hard, but it still needs to be done, and no later than tomorow. Speaking of which... why am I still in my office? I have to go to the gym and work out before I go home for the night. Ugh... why they won't just put an eliptical machine in my office, I'll never know.

Momentum... where'd I put it?

2006-04-20T13:00:00.000-04:00

I'm sure it's around here somewhere...

Things are just zipping by now. I mean, no sooner do I land back in New York than I'm completely inundated with crap to do. I have two major presentations next week, two major papers theweek after that, and a statistics final to cap it all off. Oh, and let's not forget the quantitative thesis component that I have to submit a proposal for in that same span of time. And, lucky me, Ihave a women's self defense workshop to teach next week, one I haven't exactly put together completely at this point. Good times.

No matter... it was high time the tension ball got rolling. The semester was already churning along, sure, but it wasn't trying to kill me yet. I was starting to think things were getting easier, or that maybe I was even getting better at managing my time and my choices. Stupid, stupid girl. I think I'm ready for the hammer to drop, though. I'm feeling rested enough, I'm no longer sick with the plague, and I at least have a running timeline of things to do, one I can look at and freak out about in a nice, structured, orderly fashion. Perhaps making these weird little to-do lists is the only talent for organization that I possess, but it's at least proven to be a pretty handy resource. Okay, so first we have the presentations... two of them, twenty minutes a piece. One of them is this coming Monday. that one will take a few hours to put together, but it's nothing I can't handle. In addition, I have to put together a fake syllabus for a course I would hypothetically teach on learning and behavior, and that might take a little chunk of time, too, so i have to plan to stick that in somewhere as well. then there's the second presentation... a power point thing about the program I've been pseudo-evaluating all semester. that'll be a doosie, but at least I can do fluffy things with the power point.

The papers are barely a thought in my mind at the moment. I refuse to let them be. Let that be next week's headache, I say. For now, I'll let the presentations be the source of angst that I contend with. Ugh... fun.

Deep in the heart of it

2006-04-16T12:54:00.000-04:00

Here's my official statement, if anyone wonders: I no longer miss Texas. Not at all. It's balmy down here for Eastertime. Just thinking of the sixty-something or seventy-something degree weather I'm missing back in New York is enough to make me not mind airplane rides. Ah, well... not much longer. besides, I'm at least with John, getting some much needed quality time with him. His recent acceptance into Fordham's Classics PhD program has been the cause of a good bit of excitement around here, and he's finally warming up to the idea that New York might not be such a bad place after all, so I'm not gonna complain too much these days. I'll just sit in this heat, sweat for a while, and count the weeks before John and I are romping around in New York together. Screw you, Texas, for being so infernally hot, even for Texas standards. I'm already missing the winter, which is something I never thought I'd say.

Sick of sick

2006-04-09T11:50:00.000-04:00

I had a good run... I haven't been sick like this for, like, months and months and MONTHS. Typically, back in Texas, this sort of thing was a monthly occurrence. Left and right, I was beset on all sides by criticisms that I simply don't take good care of myself, that I run myself into the ground, that I'm to blame for my ever declining health. Well, screw everybody. I've been doing more here in New York than I ever did in Texas, and I've never been so healthy for so long.

So now I'm sick again. Mind you, it's not as bad as it's been. Yes, it's a bronchial infection, but it's not typical... it's not in my lungs, just up top, and I have the sqweaky clean chest x-ray to show for it. I caught this stupid thing from one of my students, no doubt, or from one of the philosophy bastards who have been running around spreading coughs and colds and pneumonia and bronchitis and mono like it's going out of style. At any rate, I came down with this thing last weekend, and now, at long last, it's dwindling. And yet, in spite of my great track reccord, here come the criticisms... I'm not taking care of myself... I don't do enough to stay healthy... I work too hard... I must not be eating well... ENOUGH! Friends, family... Romans, countrymen... get off my back. I'm doing fine. Even really healthy people get sick from time to time. And now, for crying out loud, it really IS from time to time with me. Give me SOME credit, will you?

Well, I can hope, at least.

Nothing spectacular going on otherwise. Schoolwork is chugging along, recording is almost done, laundry is still the devil, and I'll be back in Texas for the Easter break. I did see a nun in full habbit rollerblading in central park the other day. Oh, and last night, on the bus in Queens, I saw a pimp and his ho have a fight and start slapping each other. That was fun. Otherwise, though, nothing to report, really. Just looking ahead these days... finishing the recording process means starting the mastering, and I want more than anything to get it out there and get on with it. John moves here in August and starts his PhD program at Fordham, which makes me smile every time I think about it... so I smile a lot, basically. For now, though, I'd love to get a break from all this coughing... that, at the very least, would be nice right about now. In the meantime, I had a concert series last weekend with choir, I have a concert this afternoon with the women, and then I'm outta here for a week. Let's just hope I don't cough my way through the concert... not a solo I think anyone would appreciate.

Moving up to the big time

2006-03-29T13:33:00.000-05:00

So I went to the Emeril Live show yesterday...

That's a good way to start, right? Yeah, so anyway, there I was, standing in line with a couple of friends, waiting to get it. Cat, a friend of mine, had won the tickets somehow, and she invited me to come along. Naturally, I dropped everything and ran to the opportunity. We arrived and went through a security check, followed by a briefing on how things would go. Then we were divided into groups according to numbered cards we'd been given when we came in. According to those groups, we were loaded into enormous elevators and taken up to the floor where the studio was located. After that, they seated us according to how many were in our party. We ended up in the second row to the back, which wasn't exactly far away fromt the kitchen/stage, since the studio audience area isn't particularly huge. Anyway, we were shown how and when to clap, what cues to look for, and rehearsed what we were supposed to do for Emeril's entrance. After that, the band came in, the lights were brought up, and we were ready to go.

The show began with a taped segment of Emeril talking about his restaurant in Miami, and the sorts of things that he and his other chef friend do out there, how much they like the place, and so on. After watching that on monitors in front of and above us, the music was brought up, a woman started swinging a stick around in an effort to get us to clap, and out came Emeril. We did just what we rehearsed, standing and clapping as though we had lost our minds, whooting and screaming like we'd just seen Jesus. After we finished with that, we took our seats and waited to see what Jesus would cook.

The program would be devoted to some of the cuisine Emeril's restaurant does in Miami (hence, the title of the show, Emeril's Miami... ah, marketing genius). We were a very good audience, oohing and aahing at all the appropriate times, laughing at all the jokes and innuendos, clapping for the band at the start of each commercial break as though their music was sending us all into nothing less that rapturous ecstacy. We were told ahead of time that not everyone would have a chance to sample the food, but we were at least placated with bags of chips, which were thrown at us during one of the commercial breaks... mine were bar-b-cue flavored. Before too long, the show was over, Emeril gave us his thanks, and we were back in the elevators.

Anyway, there's my Emeril story. It was fun, I'd do it again, I recommend it to everyone, etc. And if anyone's interested, the show airs on May 3rd on the Food Network if you want proof I was there... I'm sure I show up at some point... my friend Cat actually had the camera in her face a couple of times, so maybe my ear made it on camera or something. Anyway, there you go... still doing as much as I can with this whole New York thing.

And we're back

2006-03-21T17:41:00.000-05:00

Okay, okay... sorry it took me so long. And, to be honest, I'll have to keep this entry short, because I'm a little busy at the moment working on things for class, thesis, etc. Okay... here's the short version...

Three Mondays ago: I spent the day as a homeless person on the streets of the Bronx for a couple of hours as a part of the shadow count of the HOPE survey. It was cold, and I got snowed on while I sat on the ground and waited to be counted.

That following weekend: We closed the Vagina Monologues, which went well... people liked what I did, which is good, and now people recognize me when I'm out on campus, which isn't always so good. That Saturday, I attended Fordham's philosophy conference, where I made a comment during one of the presentations that people decided was insightful enough to quote all damn day. Later that night, a good friend of mine got beat up and mugged just down the block from where I live... I spent the night with him at the emergency room, trying to bend his glasses back into shape. He's fine now, but, naturally, it still sucked.

Two Mondays ago: I was walking to campus for class and noticed that, down the street from my place, there had been a homicide. There were cops and do-not-cross tape everywhere, but things were pretty low key otherwise, which was surpising, given the circumstances.

The next day, Tuesday: I was standing at the bus stop down the street from my building... I had just called Craig to tell him I was on my way to his place for some studio time, and I'd turned off my phone and put it in my coat pocket. In an instant, a kid came up behind me, grabbed the phone out of my coat pocket, and took off running down the street. Since I was pretty keyed up over the goings-on of the weekend, I did the only thing I could possibly do... I ran after him like a crazy person. I don't think he was expecting me to chase him, which would explain why I caught up to him about three blocks later, slammed him up against a wall, and demanded my phone back, for the benefit of many onlookers' curiosity. Frantic, the kid acquiesced, and I got my phone back. Then, I headed back to the bus stop for a day of recording.

The rest of the week was the usual sort... courses attended and taught, presentations and papers completed, and so on. I managed to fit in a couple of recording sessions, then headed back to Dallas for my Spring Break week. Nothing to report there, really... just a relaxing week of seeing people I haven't seen in a while, enjoying a slightly slower pace, etc.

So now I'm back in New York... recording starts again on Friday, classes started yesterday, work for the end of the semester is under way over the next few weeks. John will be visiting up here for the Easter break, which is a little less than four weeks from now. Between now and then, I'll do what I've always done: everything I can possibly squeeze in.

Mistakes will be made, from time to time

2006-02-26T22:17:00.000-05:00

I mean, I can't be expected to be intelligent on weekends, can I? Actually, it could have been worse. The point is, it could have also been a great deal more pleasant. Ah, well... live and learn.

Things started off well enough. Jane had informed me that another one of the philosophy department's famous parties would be taking place on Friday. There was no doubt about me coming. I decided to invite Miraj to come along, since he'd been complaining recently about not doing much or going out as often as he'd like. I figured this might be a good way to shut him up from his recent whining. So he and Jane and I made our way to the party, and just about everyone had arrived, including a good few faculty members. (Those silly philosophers, partying with their professors... what will they think of next?) There was wine, and beer, and excellent jambalaya (in keeping with the marti gras theme)... everyone got beads to wear when they came in (luckily, without having to earn them in the usual manner), and conversation was all aflutter with no effort at all. So far, so good... we're having a great time, and all's well.

After a couple of hours, Miraj got a phonecall. It was Isaiah, a guy in our department... Miraj talked to him for a while, then hung up and said, "Hey, I'm going to Harlem. Wanna come?" Stupid, stupid... damn it, Emily, why do you have to be intrigued by every stupid thing? Right. So a moment later, we had our coats on and were out the door. When we got to a corner a couple of blocks away, there was Isaiah in his car, and he wasn't alone. Napoleon and Moises, two more psychology grad students, were also there. We piled into the back seat, and off we went. Oh, yes... to Harlem.

No big deal... I mean, I live in the Bronx, for crying out loud. And I've been to Harlem before. But what the hell were we doing there at one in the morning? I would find out before too long: Napoleon had some friends from his undergrad living there, and we were going to visit them... they were having a small party while watching the Mosely/Vargas fight. Okay, no problem... I can definitely appreciate good boxing. And it was a good fight, so that was pleasant, and Napoleon's friends seemed like good people. So the fight ended, and we were back in the car and on the way back to the Bronx... and another random party.

There had been a concert on the Fordham campus, a hip hop event celebrating Black History Month. Napoleon and Isaiah knew a few of the performers, so we ended up at the after-party. Okay... this place was tragic. Let's just put it this way... people were passing around a bottle of Jim Beam. Enough said. From there, it just gets worse. We all got into a heated, uh, conversation... I'll just say that race and poverty was the primary topic. By the end of it, I was being condescended to in a way that definitely didn't sit well with me. Sorry, guys, but I'm not the kind of girl you talk down to or interrupt by trying to yell over me. Miraj and I got out of there, stopping at a bar on the way home for another couple of beers, because... well, why the hell not...

The moral of the story? Actually, there are a couple:
1. When at a philosophy party and someone invites you to Harlem, don't leave. You are definitely having a much better time at the philosophy party.
2. If you arrive at a party where they're passing around a bottle of Jim Beam and nothing else, leave immediately.

Okay, so I've learned my lesson. I just hope that others can learn from my mistakes. I'd like to think that, through my own moronic pitfalls, I might manage to lead others to the light.

The benefits of insomnia

2006-02-21T02:19:00.000-05:00

For starters, you have more time in the day. I'm not fighting that. I'm not trying to stay up to the wee hours, but it happens pretty regularly, no matter what I do. The way I see thing, I may as well make the best of it, right?

John tells me he's been under the weather. There are one or two people here that seem to have come down with the odd bug. So far, I'm doing fine. Actually, this has proven to be something of a record for me... I have a reputation for being sick pretty much all the time. Well, so much for my reputation. I mean, I get sick when I visit Texas, but I'm just fine when I'm here in New York. Seeing as I live here now, I'm looking forward to the possibility of abandoning that old reputation of mine. That's the only reason I feel a little less than enthusiastic about my accidental long nights of less-than-lengthy sleep. If I want to keep my health looking as good as it has so far, I figure sleep might be helpful.

In the meantime, though, I'm making the best of it. I've so far memorized my lines for Vagina Monologues, gotten most of my presentation for my Program Evaluation course finished, and actually cleaned my room a little. My theory is that doing all of this will make me sleepy and knock me out for the night eventually, but it's not looking good. Ah, well... on to crunches and curls, I guess. Who ever thought that lack of sleep was a good excuse for middle-of-the-night workouts? Okay, maybe that's not so far fetched, but it is for me. Trust me... I don't see this part of the evening becoming a long-lived habit. Sure, I'm living pretty healthy now, but there's no way I'm becoming some sort of fanatic about it.

Morphing into a pseudo-hipster

2006-02-15T23:17:00.000-05:00

Not a full-fledged hipster, mind you... I mean, I can tollerate them, but I don't like running with that high-maintenance, aesthetically annoying pack. Be that as it may, I'm willing to don the dark clothes, hang out in the hoity-toity spots, take part in the posh, hyper-intellectual discourse... I'll take the nomiker of pseudo-hipster and still sleep okay.

Anyway, here's my confession, for what it's worth.

Friday began like most of my Fridays tend to. I taught my two classes at Lincoln Center, then headed home to relax for a bit. Miraj, my buddy in the department, invited me out for dinner and drinks with him and one of his friends from his undergrad, Michael. We headed off toward Columbia University, where Michael's a PhD student in the philosophy department, and we had some take-out Arabian food at Michael's apartment. From there, we made our way to The Spotted Pig, a restaurant/bar in the meat packing district that reportedly had a good beer selection and a great review in the New York Times. Apparently, we weren't the only ones to see the review in the Times. Apart from the place being packed, it was filled to overspilling with the obvious side effects of Fall Fashion Week... models and weirdly ritzy older people all over the place. We managed to get our beers and tuck ourselves into a corner upstairs, only to realize that we were standing right next to the table where Rob Corddry, one of the correspondants for the Daily Show, was having dinner with a lady friend. We glared at him while stick-figure women in spaghetti string tops bounced off us in an effort to navigate through the crowd. One beer, though, was all we could take of this place, so we decided to walk around aimlessly until we could find another spot for another beer.

For a change of scene, we took a cab to the lower east side, where the hopping of bars truly began; we found another bar, and another, and another... each one a little more low-key than the last. Luckily, the beer did get better and better. No, really. It was better beer. It wasn't just the fact that we were getting more and more inebriated. By the end of the night, we ended up at a bar called The Library... two guesses on what the thematic decor was like... and found ourselves in the midst of... oh, yes... the elusive New York hipsters. At this place, we were pretty much up to our ears in freaking hipsters. There was a couple at the table across from ours who made out for the entirety of the hour-and-a-half that we were there... we're not entirely sure if they ever came up for air. Michael and I allowed ourselves to settle into the true spirit of the place and got into an hour-long, amicably energetic, slightly intoxicated argument about the philosophical context of capitalism as a purely socially ideological concept (and yes, for the record, I won that one). Once we were sure we'd had enough of the scenery, we called it a night; Michael caught a cab, while Miraj and I made our hiccupping, zig-zaggy way to the subway and back to the Bronx.

Oh, but the hipsterness continues. The next day, Miraj and I bit the bullet and went to an artsy movie about... wait for it... Heidegger. Oh, I know... there are better ways to hurt oneself. Nevertheless, Miraj and I decided to go. We're in a class that's studying Heidegger's Being and Time, and it seemed appropriately nerdy of us to go. For good nerdy measure, Miraj sent an email to everyone in the class, including the professor, to inform about the time and place. As we rode the subway to the theater at 2nd and 2nd (oh, believe it... there is such a place as 2nd and 2nd), the two of us jokingly debated over who might show up. We thought it would be absolutely hillarious if Dr. Wertz were to come, and feasible that a couple of our more eager classmates would make it (though we playfully wagered on one or two of them). We got there, and it was pretty much what you'd expect; it was tiny, and several unattractive, anti-social-looking people wearing black were standing there, either socializing smugly or standing in the miniscule ticket line. Then, a few minutes before they let us into the theater itself, one more audience member walked through the door. Do I even need to say who? The three of us joined the little heard of darkly-clad, ugly brand of hipsters, filing through a dark little hallway lit with a single red lightbulb (how freaking artsy can you get?) and ending up in a tiny theater with a tiny screen. I sat between Miraj and Dr. Wertz, and we sat through three and a half hours of reading subtitles while French philosophers talking about Heiddeger's work, all set to the backdrop of a trip up the Danube. Here's the worst part... I read those damn subtitles, I nodded at the points being made, I reacted reflectively as the images droned on and on. I'm not saying I loved it. I'm simply saying that it was... interesting. Like, in a good way. Sort of. Well, let's just say I didn't entirely hate it. Not entirely. I don't know. I feel kind of violated by the whole experience, but I'm sort of okay with it. Whatever... at least there was an intermission.

So there you have it. And trust me, I'm not out shopping for a new black beret or anything, so I'll thank everyone not to rub it in too much. Fine, so I'm guilty of taking part in a criminally snooty weekend. But I'll live it down, I swear. Remember... I've still got the whole rock star plan in the works, and I never want to be any kind of hipster musician. If that ever happens, fire at will.

Ridiculous, narrowminded, conservative, frustrating opposition

2006-02-10T20:53:00.000-05:00

I mean, COME ON! It's the Vagina Moonologues... so it talks about the female anatomy, a topic no one likes to discuss much because, let's face it, most people think it's disgusting. That's the point, though. It's kind of a problem when you're a woman and you spend your life thinking you're disgusting. I've been reading these letters of oppostion to the show in general from bishops and other church leaders, calling for a reevaluation of what's being accomplished by the performance of this play at universities around the country. They claim that it belittles women, that it makes the vagina solely a center of pleasure, debasing sexuality and removing it from its role in love.

Oh, please.

I'm almost convinced I ought to ignore this sentiment. Almost.

This play isn't about revealing any great truths about the nature of female sexuality, in my opinion. It's simply the telling of the experience of certain women, the women depicted in the show. It's the reality of their sexuality, and whether or not it happens to be representative of other women's views and experience is beside the point. Funny thing is that many women do in fact connect with the views shared through the piece. Some, on the other hand, find it offensive, and that's fine, too. But enough women seem to connect with it that it lives on. Women don't like to think that any part of them might be distasteful, disgusting, dirty, or unapealing. No one wants that, man or woman. And I would hazzard to say that a great many women feel that way about their nether-bits. Men have a sort of "love-hate" relationship with the region as well, while it's possible that many women experience more of a "hate-hate" situation... or maybe a "somewhat like-often despise" sorth of thing. The point is that young women attending liberal arts colleges (and whose mommy and daddy are footing the bill) like to talk about this sort of thing, usually at great uncomfortable length. I could do without it, personally, but not because I'm repulsed. I'm just over it... I've done more talking than most, and I'm done for now. In regard to my special anatomical fixture, I don't love it or hate it... I just go about my day, and it goes along for the ride, and we get along fine.

I don't like that bishops seem to have so damn much to say about it, though. They make a great many assumptions about the female experience, then attribute their rationalizations to religious precepts. That's foolish... religion provides guidelines, but it doesn't interpret experience for you. Bishops should think on that for a moment. And if the Vagina Monologues weren't being performed, do they really think such ideas wouldn't be voiced elsewhere? And as for those voices... are they really being heard by these religious leaders for what they're really trying to express? My guess is a pretty resounding no. Seriously... is it so hard to let people speak their minds? Does it get under your skin so much that people have not-so-holy thoughts once in a while. even talking about them with one another? After all, we let you guys spew your wrath... is common courtesy so much to ask?

Yeah... I figured as much. Doesn't matter, though... we'll never shut each other up, will we? Good.

Hello, thesis, my old friend

2006-02-08T23:27:00.000-05:00

I've come to whack at you again...

I went in for a meeting with Dr. Wertz today, so that we could discuss the fate of my thesis. As it stands, it's not enough (that is, according to some unknown members of the ADP department... Dr. Wertz has given it his full approval). Granted, the head of my department, Dr. Sherrod, says it's adequate... except for the fact that some of the faculty want me to add a quantitative component. Basically, I have to add something of a side project to the thesis... not so much a matter of rewriting the thesis or anything... just a little extra bit tucked in, just to prove that I can do it. Bastards. It doesn't sound so bad, except for the fact that I'm not exactly rolling around in piles of spare time. At least, not so much spare time that I can just whip out an experimental study and plop it into my thesis in a way that makes sense. Be that as it may, that's exactly what I'm going to do. That is, of course, if things go as I predict... I have one more meeting with Dr. Sherrod, where I intend to plead my case one last time. Maybe I can at least find out who the hell's got a problem with the work as it is. It's not him, and it's not Dr. Wertz, so I'm curious to know who it might be. Not that it would make any difference now, but at least I'll know not to have them on my dissertation commitee. And maybe, just for good measure, I'll know who's car to egg.

On the verge of... um... the verge

2006-02-06T22:35:00.000-05:00

I'm guessing I should start bracing myself. I don't feel it yet, but I have an inkling that things are about to get a little more frantic for me around here. After all, they can't really calm down at this point, so they must have nowhere to go but up, yes?

Here's one for starters... I've volunteered to take the GRE again. Hey... at least they're going to pay me to do it. Not that I relish the idea of taking the freaking GRE on a Saturday morning, especially when I've already done my time and gone through that special little hell once before. Again, I'm getting paid for it. Boy, those testing researchers sure know the way to a girl's heart, don't they? Anyway, if anyone's curiosity is peaked as to what I'll be up to this Saturday, your inquiring mind now knows as much as I do.

Right. So there's that. Then, you have the Vagina Monologues thing, which goes up some time in March. Apart from that, there's choir (two sets of concerts... two choirs, incidentally... I'm not even going to get into that one, or I may not hear the end of it), the possibility of starting this women's self defense martial arts class thing some time in the near future (though not too near, I'm thinking... something that will likely start next semester is my guess), and an internship that I'm starting this semester (for which I have an interview tomorrow). And no, I'm not forgetting the full load of courses, the teaching assistanceship, and the weekly recording time in the studio. For most people, this might look a little scary. For me... well, read some of the previous entries on this blog, and you'll see what I mean. I'm okay... just a little worried that I'm okay, if that makes any sense. I'll be fine, but I'm curious to see how.

I'm still fighting the laundry demons that have overrun my life, and I think I'm going to win this week. I can feel it... I have the power now, or at least the dire necessity. Besides, I can count it as a workout. On that note, I've finally made it down below 200 pounds... 198.6, to be exact... and I feel like I ought to throw a party or something. Then again, I now live in constant fear that I'll end up back over 200 if I breathe too much air or something. I won't feel really secure about this little victory over my designated numerical hurdle until I'm well past it... possibly in the 180's or so... then I'll start to relax a little bit. For now, though, the battle continues. And I'm still losing weight, basically about two pounds per week, so I guess I'll just hang in there for another month and see how it goes. In the meantime, I'm gonna go eat something. And yes, unfortunately, something quite healthy and good for me. Damn this vastly improved, guilt-enforced lifestyle.

Dumb-luck complications

2006-02-02T22:16:00.000-05:00

Right. So yesterday, after choir rehearsal and fencing practice, I had my first Vagina Monologues rehearsal. Because I came straight over from fencing, I ended up getting there a couple of minutes late, and found everyone sitting around having some kind of general meeting. As soon as I sit down, I hear one of the girls talking about how she and another girl have been checking all of the local boxing schools and karate dojos and random martial arts studios, and that they haven't gotten any responses yet. After listening in for a while and still having no clue what the hell they were talking about, I asked a girl sitting next to me if she knew what was going on. "Oh, it's something we want to incorporate into the women's empowerment program... we want to put together a woman's self-defense course, and we're trying to find someone to teach it."

I promise... there was a moment that I really did consider not saying anything. I thought I might just nod my head and feign disinterest. Then I thought of who they might get and what they might teach. I thought of all the conversations I've had with John and other fellow martial artists about how this sort of thing should be handled (women's self defense courses are often a sad kind of joke among martial arts circles, well-meaning though such programs might be)... and then I took a deep breath, rolled my eyes at myself, and told the girl next to me that I was a martial artist with teaching experience, and sure, I'd put together a women's self defense somethingorother. Everyone seemed overjoyed, took a quick vote on it, and moved on. I asked if this was just a quick, one-day clinic sort of thing. "No, not at all," said the girl next to me, who turned out to be one of the directors. "This would actually be a full-time position, all semester, hopefully all year... and the university would pay you for doing it." Okay, so yeah, I'm not fighting it too hard at this point. I mean, come on! They wanna pay me for it? Oh, sure... I think you've got yourself a martial arts instructor.

After that, we went on to rehearse. My part was "woman #2" of three women who share one monologue. It went dryly, as most first readings will. Okay, actually, a bit more dryly than I might have hoped. I was trying to work, despite being a little tired from the fencing... I tried things, worked with the lines where I could... the other two girls, to be honest, might as well have been reading the ingredients on the back of a box of croutons. I got funny looks from the director, but at least they weren't disgusted looks... just weird ones. Then, today, I got an email asking me to take another role in place of the one I read, which would be a bit larger... the "introductions" was the only description I got, and I have a feeling this will include more than one, um, introduction... frankly, I have no idea. I shrugged, responded that I'd agree to the change, and went about my day.

I don't suppose an addition here and there to the state of things should make too much of a difference. It's never a big shock when things compile like this... it tends to happen in life, the way I figure it. So no biggie... just take it in stride, don't dwell on the free time you're losing, and keep on doing everything you love. I don't imagine you can go wrong when you look at things that way. One of my fellow grad students said the other day that people should learn to stick to doing one thing and be serious about it. Maybe, for some, that's the only way to make things work. I don't see how that has to be the case... why can't people do several things at once, and strive to do them well, and with passion, and still thrive and be happy and find time to watch a few hours of mind-numbing TV? I don't mean to jinx it or anything, but I promise that it's possible.

Clandestine density... yeah, that's right... density

2006-01-31T11:46:00.000-05:00

For three weeks now, John, Nate, Jaucelynn, Tank, Chuck, and myself have been in a weight loss competition with one another that will last a total of sixteen weeks. Each Monday, we all weigh in... I'm the only one who can't show up at the house to weigh in with everyone else, so I had to buy an identical scale and video tape my weigh-ins, then email them in so that no one thinks I'm lying. Whoever's lost the largest percentage of their original body weight by the May 1st deadline wins a cash prize (each of us has put in fifty bucks). Here's the weird thing... after three weeks and two weigh-ins, I'm actually winning.

It's not what I expected. Granted, I'm not likely to hold on to my lead... I mean, John and Chuck are both doing very well, and working really hard at it. Besides, I've got a pretty messed-up metabolism, what with my thyroid being... um... gone. Besides, I've got the furthest to go... of everyone in the competition, I'm furthest away from my ideal weight, least hydrated, with the highest fody fat percentage... it doesn't make sense that I should be doing very well at all. Then again, I did sell my car. Wanna lose weight? Sell your car and move to New York. Since I've been here, I've lost... wait for it... thirty-four pounds. Scary. And I haven't even been working out. Okay, yes, I walk everywhere. Yes, I fence once or twice a week. And, okay, there's absolutely no fast food in my diet (because there isn't really any around for me to get most days... I may have a hot dog on the street once in a while, but that's about it). So okay, maybe, despite not working out, I'm doing things that are somewhat equivalent to working out. Still... it's hardly work.

Something else about all this has been rather nice. Of course, there's the idea of fitting into clothing and feeling better about it. And there are health benefits, to be sure, just as I can easily say that my energy levels have drastically increased. Still, there are the little things.

When I came to New York, I defnitely didn't look as heavy as I was. I would tell people, even stand on a scale to show them, and they still couldn't believe it... my magic number when I set foot in New York City was, incredibly, 234, although I didn't look an ounce over 180, maybe even less. Now, I'm at a flat 200. Granted, I didn't look as heavy as that six months ago, and I certainly don't look that heavy now. Therefore, the numbers on the scale never mattered much to me, given that they never say much about how I really look. All the same... 200 is a huge benchmark for me. I've weighed over 200 pounds for a good while now, and, despite other people never knowing it, I've known it. The first time I saw that I weighed just over 200, I hadn't looked at a scale in a long, long time, so I didn't exactly watch it happen. It just was. Suddenly. Just like that. This weight loss, on the other hand, hasn't been painfully gradual... sort of accidental, really... but I've definitely been around to see it. And now I've got a damn scale, and I see those numbers, and they're not so scary anymore.

Right now, I'm on the brink of being under 200 pounds for the first time in who knows when. Each week, I lose a little more. In fact, I've begun to include a workout into my routine... nothing awe-inspiring, just a couple of days a week on the eliptical machine. Since the start of the competition, I've lost just over 8 pounds. Yesterday's weigh-in had me at 200 pounds... might I actually be below that next week? Woah... if so, I'll definitely take it. meanwhile, John's doing a great job... he's working out almost every day, eating healthier than I've ever seen (and of his own free will, no less)... already, he's worked off 7 pounds these last three weeks, and he's nowhere near slowing down. Chuck, who's an old pro at the weight-related self-deprecation and punishment by going into diet and exercise overdrive, is also doing plenty of damage so far, having lost about 5 pounds (without exactly trying, mind you... just wait till he really gets going with the guilt). Meanwhile, there are three more of us, and it's been an interesting struggle to witness. Everyone seems to have a theory on what will work for him or herself, how to regulate things in their lives, adding and subtracting here and there. So far, success for Jaucelynn, Tank, and Nate has been touch and go, but they've certainly not thrown in the towel, and have become more and more determined with the passing weeks. I consider myself their biggest fan, their most energetic cheerleader.

Oh, yeah... I got into the Vagina Monologues. Go figure. Hopefully, I can be ten more pounds lighter by the time the show goes up in March... It would be nice, I think, to make my... um... New York theatrical debut weighing in at under 200 pounds. Maybe it's petty of me, but I can't help thinking it would still feel pretty good.