But Monday is my day off! Why am I at work?
Yes, I had to roll out of bed early this morning to run sound for a freshman orientation session for the university. I, not entirely awake or excited about this task, strolled over to the theatre in my pyjamas to discover it full of eighteen year old girls wearing unbearably cute (but trying not to try to hard) outfits. The plan for the day is still a bit unclear to me, but so far so good. Other than not really getting a day off.
I haven't gotten much knitting done lately. I was pretty gung-ho about a pair of socks for my grandmother, but then sort of fizzled out. I'm on Henry IV now, which eats up a lot of time. Yesterday, we had a two show day and I was at the theatre for eleven hours. Ack. Nearly everyone on the crew has some sort of reading material stashed away for the slow moments, so we had a mock book club meeting during our dinner break last night. There is a surprising variety of literature being traded amongst stagehands. The actors probably wouldn't be thrilled about that, but they must know that we don't watch the show in its entirety. I watch my favorite scenes, or the ones that have tricky cues in them, but that's hardly three hours' worth.

I am sick as a dog. There seems to be something going through the company now. First, I felt in it in my lymph nodes, now I feel it all over in my head. I hate being sick. Well, I suppose everyone does except for hypochondriacs. So, last night, I was really dragging and decided to take a shower. I wanted to feel hot water fall on my head and breathe in lots of steam. Small problem: no hot water. I let it run for several minutes before getting in and got a nasty surprise. So, I headed back to my room, where I discovered that they've turned the heat off for the summer. It's only 56 degrees out now, during the day, so you can imagine how cold it is at night. Argh.
Fortunately, when I stumbled out of bed this morning, the hot water was plentiful. I took a shower that would make environmentalist/granola types shudder. It's the best thing for congestion. I'm also taking Nelson's colds and flu homeopathic medicine. It works by making you sweat it all out at once. So, I'm using my day off to try and get all of this ick out in order to be able to work the rest of the week. Sigh.
I'm going to look for a diner that serves chicken soup to self-pitying artist types.

My reunion was a bittersweet thing, as all such walks down memory lane are. So much of my college experience had to do with people who are no longer there. I was the only member of my graduating class to return, so there were very few familiar faces in the crowd. It did, however, inspire me to purchase a new translation of Swann?s Way.
A Few Facts about my Reunion:
* Trips to The Mill: 4
* Music: Rufus Wainwright, Rachael Yamagata, Ryuichi Sakamoto, The Postal Service, and Marianne Faithfull
* Readings attended: 4
* Readings enjoyed: 4
* Productions attended: 4
* Productions enjoyed: 1
* Amount paid for one of my photographs used on poster, flier, and programs: $0

Oh, and I accidentally left my cell phone charger at Willie?s and therefore must use my car charger instead.

Now, I am at my summer stock gig. A lot of crazy shit happens to me. My car is dying. My television gave up the ghost this morning. I can?t access the internet from my room because I don?t have a phone card and don?t have an Ethernet ID yet. I can?t win for losing sometimes.
Yesterday, I was watching Gilmore Girls when the picture went out on my TV. Great, I thought, now I know what it was like to live in the golden era of radio. I gave it a very professional whack and the picture returned, sort of. There were a few lines of distortion across the top of the screen, but everything else was okay. This afternoon, I turned it on to watch some sort of escapist, middle of a Saturday afternoon crap and discovered that the lines had migrated to the middle of the screen, leaving a big black bar across the top. I was only seeing below the equator. Sounds like a job for the vertical hold button, eh? Small problem?I don?t have one! I?m an AV professional, I thought, I?ll just unplug it and crack the casing to look for obvious problems. As I was bent over the tube, Leatherman at the ready, I noticed a foul, bad electronics smell emanating from within. Perhaps this was from old dust on a warm tube, but as I do not have a great sense of smell, I must believe that this was a sign of impending electrical fire. Or at least unpleasantness. So I shoved it under the bed and thought very unkind thoughts. I?m so glad that I hauled that thing halfway across the country for it to break within twenty-four hours. Maybe I?ll take a look at it later. There isn?t much to do here and it kills me not to be able to fix the problem. At least I?ve established that turning it off and back on again and a good whack are not solutions.

My car is the perfect candidate for Pimp My Ride. I?m oddly fascinated by that show, even though I?m not really into cars as anything but transportation. Hoopdies go in to emerge beautiful steel butterflies later. I know exactly what I would do for the video. Start with me walking around the car, pointing out the tragic passenger side dents and mismatched bumper. A shot of me pouring in transmission fluid, as I have a leak that would cost more to repair than the car is worth. Then, the interior. See how the mirror occasionally flips down on the sun visor as I?m driving? Hot! I?m a sound designer/engineer and I have your basic AM/FM radio and a wonky speaker. Small problem: you and your car must be in Southern California to be on the show, and she?s not going to make it that far. Don?t get me wrong, I love my car. I learned to drive in that car, have taken it cross country several times, and treat it as a sort of purse on wheels. But soon she will go the way of all rust, to that big junkyard in the sky, and it gets me a little choked up. We?ve had some good times together, my Dorothy and I, and some really awful ones as well. Like that time that I had a blowout on the Pike right outside of Philly, when I had a bunch of gear on top of the mini spare in the trunk. Nothing raises the ire of fellow motorists like driving 45 on a donut on the Pike. Or the time that I had to pull over on to the shoulder because I was crying hysterically after hearing a song on the radio in the middle of a messy breakup. Maybe I could have taken her to the car wash more often (or at all) and perhaps I should have used more than a couple of blankets to insulate my television from all the bumps and potholes of the PA highway system. These things happen.

I love my:
* Ipod and FM transmitter. I downloaded a frequency list from the manufacturer and can rock it whenever I?m in the car that I promised my mom I wouldn?t drive ?too much?.
* MAC makeup remover wipes (genius! And perfect for removing all those fab MAC products!)
* Spotting celebrities on the street in NY. I saw Mo Rocca the last time I went in. And no, I did not point, take photos, or follow him. My roommate and I talked about it for two blocks afterwards though.
* Brown eyeliner pencil. It?s a bit metallic and brings out the blue in my eyes.
* White eyeliner crayon from Sephora. A little shine that opens the eye. The visual antidote to a hangover, to quote my friend Lisa.
* Mascara. I didn?t wear it for the longest time because I thought I didn?t need it, what with my big luscious Johnson lashes. Wrong! A good mascara takes them to a power of ten, but I still try to use a light hand to avoid looking like a Liza Minelli impersonator/ drag queen.
* Coffee maker. I?m not a human being until eleven AM, so a morning coffee infusion before work is vital.
* Super discreet Manhattan Portage laptop messenger bag. You?d never guess I was carrying precious cargo in its unassuming navy confines.

Think Pink! Or some other color.
After a long absence of color in the street and stores, colors are back. Pink, aqua, coral, green, you name it and it's in. Except lavender....hmm. What a nice change of pace from my usual blue and green and black. A pretty steady diet of black, really. I've put aside my black French sweater and knit a lovely tearose cotton sweater, inspired by this new Spring feeling. Sadly, I somehow did not realize that all the little white stripes would make for a million ends to weave in before I could seam the project. Oh well... If I keep telling myself that I'll have the sweater to wear much longer than it takes to assemble it, maybe it will make things go faster. Next on the slate is another cotton sweater, sans stripes, inspired by the cotton yukatas of Japan. At least, that is what the designer claims in the book. It's another project with a lot of assembly required, but I'm willing to admit that stylish garments take more work than, ahem, homemade-looking ones.

This spring renewal has also caused me to take interest in feminine pursuits like getting my eyebrows shaped and finally learning to apply undereye concealer properly. We've established that it doesn't matter how much I sleep, I'll always have circles. I bought a skirt over the weekend, and not some terrible utilitarian thing with lots of pockets. I found an outfit that looks perfect with an antique turquoise necklace that my grandmother gave me. And I walked around in heels for an entire day with little complaint. There's nothing like a bit of warm weather to make me want to shed the Doc Martens!

I've just heard about a new product from Belkin that is the solution to a problem I've had for years. I listen to a lot of NPR, but I don't want to sit next to the radio all day. Often, I have to miss Fresh Air with Terry Gross to, I don't know, go to work or something. If only there was a VCR for your radio, so that you could record your programs when you were busy elsewhere. I toyed around with this idea for ages, trying to come up with some sort of analog solution. Well, Belkin came up with a digital solution, the RadioShark. It's shaped like a big fin. There seem to be a few bugs to work out still, and I'd like the price to come down a bit before I'd consider buying it. They even offered it as one of the pledge gifts on my local NPR station this month. Very, very cool.

A Few Things About Me:
* I like pink. I love blue and green, but more and more pink keeps finding its way into my life. I guess it just makes me happy. And so, I now have a large pink mock croc handbag (perfect for trips to the movies), a fuchsia French knitting bag, with shocking chartreuse lining, and a Schiaparelli pink opera scarf. All these things were recent gifts from my grandmothers. It's that time of year.
* I have lots of bags. Most of them are strictly sensible Manhattan Portage bags. But I really love the ones that make people look twice: the pink mock croc, the Queen Mum/Doctor's Bag handbag complete with metal spikes on the bottom and tiny lock and key, and my Liberty tote bag. I've always wondered about the lock and key. If you lock your purse, where are you supposed to put the key?
* I often get phone calls from area codes that I can't place on a map. I got a call the other day that started with country code 6. I haven't a clue where that is.
* I was excited to learn that I'm to get a big tax refund this year, until I realized that I gave the government a big fat, interest free loan. Again. If I were more attentive to my withholdings, I could have had that money all year to squander as I see fit. Like on shockingly expensive bottles of French perfume at the Duty Free store.
* I can't bear being late to the movies. And I always have to find the optically optimum seat in the theatre. I must be such a pain in the ass to people who accompany me, but we're rarely straining our necks in the front row.
* I sometimes love irredeemably bad music. I like Bossa Nova, even though most people think it's just Muzak.




Au Meme Temps

That is a phrase that fills me with dread. At the same time, in a set of directions, invariably means that you've already made a mistake without knowing it.
Lately, I've had the distinction of undergoing SSSS, or super special security screening, at the airport, had a birthday, had the flu (on my birthday), had my car stall on the entrance ramp to an expressway, received a package from Belgium that looked as though it had been through a war, been tied to the train tracks by a dastardly looking man with a twirly mustache, seen an ex-boyfriend listed as the "singles ad of the day" on a favorite website, and seen a Bollywood adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Ah-ha, I've got your attention now. No train tracks for me, though the rest of it had to be endured with varying degrees of peevishness. Since I am still recovering from the flu, and I'll spare you the details, I've made my cousin Stephen my designated drinker for the evening. I'll be spending St Pat's with my DVD player this year.
It's really not that bad, I suppose. After the initial shock, I had a good laugh over the singles ad. Very interesting to see how the ad weighs up against the reality.
My car started up again after I coasted over to the shoulder. It was a nice little workout, as the power steering cut out with the engine. Sigh. I've got to get a major tune-up before summer stock season.
The package from Belgium was a long awaited yarn order from the lovely folks at Phildar. It only took a month! The postman dropped it off Monday morning, announced by a startling knock on the door of the sort favored by the police. It was held together with plastic straps, and I highly doubt that it left Belgium that way. Luckily, it was only the box and not its contents that were mauled by the post office.
The movie was a bit of a disappointment, though I am not sure what it was exactly that I'd expected. The acting was similar to the style favored by actors in Mexican soap operas, there were big music and dance numbers, and no kissing. I laughed a few times, but found the whole experience similar to accidentally buying a hollow chocolate Easter bunny.
I've been surprised by the response of my friends in the light of recent upheavals. I even got two transatlantic calls. I'm flattered that so many people care, given my Perils of Pauline life.

Tricotant, or Third Time's A Charm
When I was in Paris, I bought the makings of a bouclé cardigan at Galleries Lafayette. Once it was finished, I reasoned, I would always think of Paris when I wore it. Well, that was in September, and I've yet to finish it. I currently have sleeve number three on the needles. Yes, three. I only have two arms. I made a small but important mistake on the first, which I did not realize until it was cast off. I had to tear it out and start over again. So, that is how I've knit three sleeves for one sweater.
Still, I am totally smitten with Phildar knitting. Phildar is a company in France with chic pattern designs, not lagging behind current fashions as American companies often are. Phildar is fun and fabulous (with some scary, stereotypical exceptions), so it's a given that their merchandise is very hard to get in the States. They have no American distribution, which leaves Phildar-loving American knitters at the mercy of various foreign yarn shops. I discovered that one Canadian store was engaging in price gouging. Why should I pay twelve dollars for a magazine that costs five euros (plus shipping)? And worse. So, I'm becoming acquainted with the dollar to euro exchange rate and driving my spell check crazy with emails written in French. I always told my friends in high school that it wasn't a useless language! They were so smug about the usefulness of Spanish.
This time of year seems perfect for starting new projects, which is dangerous. It's very easy to get startitis and have a half dozen projects in varying states, none of them nearing completion. I've got the bouclé cardigan going at a fair clip, but there's also the ondé cardigan that's been languishing since last summer, and a pair of socks for Grandma that still need the toes done and the ends run in. Still, I long to knit up a fabulous black mod sweater in time to celebrate my birthday (which is in a month, yikes), and to get started on a kimono inspired cotton sweater. The silvery, lilac cabled yarn seems perfect for Spring. Maybe this is why some knitters make big heavy pullovers in the Summer and light little sweaters in the Winter, so that the garments are actually ready to wear.