wishing and hoping

It's almost here. The sweet sounds of summer. Warm breezes. Laughter and frivolity.

So, I woke up this morning to the warm breeze coming in through the window. And I wanted to just roll over and close my eyes for a little while longer, then get up and have a leisurely breakfast, and take a dive into the ocean. Of course, I'm not even near the ocean. Nor do I have time for a leisurely breakfast.

But I will soon. And I will frolick in the sand. Sit in a hammock. Nap. Eat strawberries. Wear suncreen. Breathe in ocean salty air.

...the temperature's rising!

This is oppression if I've ever seen it. I'm done with it and there's no holding me back. All of a sudden, it happened, too... like wam-bam-thank-you-ma'am, all at once the cold air breezed away and WOOSH! we're having a heat wave.

I visited the NYC once in mid-August and thought it was pretty hot, yeah. But now I'm living through it. And working through it. And spending my days in it. UNFAIR. I am going to do my best to never actually spend a summer in this city in my life if I can help it. And hey, so far so good.

I leave town one week from today for the tropic clime that is the Pocono Mountains. Of course, where I'll be working is supposedly internet-free... no, not no-cost-internet, but no internet at all... so updates my be fewer and farther in between than normal, but hey, sue me.

Three down.

Yes. I warded off the Dementors and finished the last page of the third book on the subway into work this morning. Don't worry. I was at the Strand yesterday and bought my own copies of the next three books as well so I don't have to borrow my roomies' anymore.

I think the whole thing about these books for me is the lives of our three best friends. Harry, Hermoine and Ron are unflappable, unbeatable and attached at the hip. I love them. They love each other. There's nothing that can get in their (collective) way. Basically, I want what they have. I want to live in that sort of world.

I guess, though, in the real world, you can't have that. It's possible in school, and save for Quidditch, sorting hats, Diagon Alley and other magic, I like to remember my time in school very happy like the three kiddos. But lately, it's hard - you know, in the real world. Like THE PARTY used to sing, "if I'd known then what I know now, I'd have stayed a child much longer."

I want to have a Ron and Hermoine to spend my afternoons with watching the lazy squid on the lake. Any takers? Let's just find an invisibility cloak and get the hi-ho outta town.

and the Prisoner of Azkaban, currently

"Ah! I haven't done this in so long and I can't figure out why I stopped."
"What?" you ask, slyly.
"Reading a good book!" I yelp. "I can't get enough of JK Rowling!" I let out a little squeal and a yip before jumping in the air a little and grinning wide.

There is nothing quite like it. Last week, after finishing Tim O'Briens interminable and lesser novel, GOING AFTER CACCIATO, I figured the time was ripe to finally begin reading the series everyone has been talking about for the past decade. Dwight referenced it in the penultimate episode of THE OFFICE this season and, well, frankly, that's enough for me.

So, here we are, approximately one week later (give or take a day or two) and I'm midway through the third book. Hermoine is taking so many classes, her books just ripped a hole in her bookbag. Harry was told he's going to die by the Divination teacher. Draco is milking his stupid arm wound for all it's worth, giving poor Ron a terrible time of it. And Beedow is loving it.

I stay awake late. I get up early. I don't mind the long-ass subway rides I had to take over the weekend. I've forgotten about food (but not the season finales this past week, nor have I calmed down about what's going to happen Wednesday on LOST, but that's for tomorrow night), and if you know me, you know that means something's afoot! sir (as Sir Sherlock would have exclaimed).

I'm giddy as a schoolgirl, although, thankfully with my new fangled haircut, I no longer have the longish hair to be confused with one anymore. That's right. Beedow got what amounts to a military cut - no worries, I'm not going off to fight for my country and save our land or our fine upstanding president's hide. I just look like I am.

Thank you. I hope I made sense (said Parker Posy - nice link, JJ).

Graphic Subway Ride

Well, I thought I would talk about the last production in the City Center Encores! series which I saw last night, STAIRWAY TO PARADISE. I was going to write about how Ruthie Henshall (the only reason I wanted to see it) got shafted by getting only two songs two sing. Plus no one knew who the hell she was. How can you not know someone who has done so much, she doesn't even need to include the 10th anniversary LES MIZ concert in her bio?! Amazing.

I was going to say that although actress-turned-celebrity Kristin Chenoweth did too much and was just sticking to her usual antics that everyone so adores, she was very funny in her sketches and songs with clowns Kevin Chamberlin and Christopher Fitzgerald.

I was going to say all that. I was going to say I even enjoyed Jenn Gambatese.

But then I got on the subway to come home and I was leaning against the third door of the third car, just like I always do. And I was looking around at people, scoping out the general situation, just like I always do. And then I saw it. My stomach realized what was happening before my mind did. Mister Subway Stranger's (see yesterday's post) brother was holding his hand in front of his mouth. His eyes were wide and there was a look of panic behind them. As he moved swiftly to the door, waiting patiently for it to open, he was holding the vomit inside his mouth. Some of it escaped, though, and was dripping down his lips, over his chin and onto the floor of the car. TERROR! AWFUL! GROSS! SMELLY! YUCKY!

So, once I saw that, I couldn't write about the concert anymore. Tomorrow: blueberry muffins, or how I learned to eat something other than Timbits for breakfast.

Open Letter: Subway Stranger

Dear Subway Stranger:

I know the weather is warm. Heck, I am perspiring myself from my six-block walk here this morning -- I mean, it's not even 9:30 in the morning yet. The problem isn't the heat, it's your attire. Well, more specifically your podiatric health.

Take a look at the pretty girl over the wearing her strappy sandals. See? No problems. She cleans her feet, paints her nails and wears nice summer shoes. Now look at my feet. Can't see 'em, right? That's because I have to wear shoes to work, so I hide my feet. Now look at yours. WHOA! Yep, you almost vomited, too, just like I did.

Okay, why is this? See, you have disgusting toenails. And you're wearing flip-flops. This is 100% unacceptable. You should either (a) fix your toenails, (b) cover them up, or (c) get the hell away from me.

That's it. K.I.S.S.

Beedow

rants: tele

Color me confused, I guess. I was reading some articles on CNN.com while I'm here getting paid to wait for the phone to ring. Americans today have such interesting and strange concerns, habits and feelings, don't you think?

For instance, the article was about television. NBC had its worst two weeks EVER last month, and ratings are generally down across the boards. Okay, they said and tried to figure out why this was. Perhaps because of the early daylight savings time. Maybe because television sucks. Or, maybe because people are simply using their DVRs to record and watch later, when they choose, sans advertising. Well, advertisers hope it isn't the latter.

I'm going to side note on this topic for a minute. Now, don't get me wrong. Since moving into my apartment in January, I began to discover the joy of DVR. I can tune in to GREY'S ANATOMY at 9:15 and watch the whole episode, sans commercial interruption and still be done by 10:00. "Wowza!" thought innocent little me. Now, four and a half months into this charade I've come to realize that in fact, *I AM MISSING OUT!* Sure, I get done with my program in 3/4 of the time, but I am oblivious to society. I don't know what movies or new television programs are coming up, I don't know if I should buy Scott or Charmin, and I don't know what my brain looks like on drugs. So, maybe I should go back to watching the commericals again. Or else hire an assistant to watch them and report back.

People then were able to respond in blog-like commentary about the article's merits. Anonymous responders commented they don't waste their time watching television (but they do waste it reading and writing about television online?). Or that they'd rather read a book. Or read the paper. Or get their news from online sources rather than the commercialized-we're-reporting-this-with-sexy-pictures-just-to-get-you-to-watch evening news, no longer with anyone we care about by the way.

Okay. Well. You can find some nifty, educational and exciting programs on television. Take the Discovery Channel's recent PLANET EARTH series. Damn nifty if you ask me. And what's the difference between spoiling your mind in front of the tele or surfing the net? Same difference, I'd say. And, if the technology we currently have at our fingertips had been invented back in the days when writing was invented, maybe there wouldn't be so many books. And would that be a bad thing? You can get some pretty sh*tty books and magazines out there.

I guess it's all in the way you look at it. For Beedow, I know after spending a week of staring at the internet from 10-7:30 each day, I like to go home and actually (gasp!) not turn on my trusty MAC. Instead, I spent the time on the subway home reading my book or magazine, and when I get home, I make dinner and sit in front of the television. It's relaxing. It's nice. It's comforting. And it's the same as sitting in front of a computer, or wasting one's time in a tabloid or bodice-ripper of a novella.

Tomorrow: how to cook a creamy chicken dinner and get drunk on an entire bottle of wine at the same time.

Monday Monday

I've been scoring some sensational tickets to shows this week, thanks to Millie's hookups. We went to see TALK RADIO Saturday night, and it was really excellent. Much better than RADIO GOLF, which, yikes, was pretty much in shambles I thought. More importantly, though, I began thinking about the before and after category on Wheel of Fortune and how it could apply to Broadway shows.

TALK RADIO GOLF
or, go a step further: TALK RADIO GOLF WITH ALAN SHEPARD

I want to create a whole list but I'm currently without any thoughts. Let's start doing this, it would be fun. I guess we could include movies or whatever, too, just for kicks.

Also, I saw THE 5TH DIMENSION at Town Hall the other night. Phew. Good thing they were $3.00 seats. They were grand when they were singing their music. The problem came when they deviated from Wedding Bell Blues, Up Up and Away, or Aquarius and sang songs from the Four Tops, James Taylor and others. Whatever. But I'll tell you, on their tunes, they ROCKED. Love that music.

Purr...

I had another smile with yesterday's said celebrity. Both days she has been unrecognizable because of her big (stylish) sunglasses. Yesterday she was flustered because she didn't have her door code to get into the building and she was a few minutes late for her rehearsal. I was waiting for her to figure out her code when she moved her glasses up to her forehead -- "oh gosh!" I thought. "I can just buzz you in," I said and did. She thanked me.

Today, it was just a lovely smile on her way out from rehearsal.

Partial disclosure to come in the following days, especially considering I'll be working here every day next week since my boss is out of town for a (gasp!) software conference. I'm hoping to see lots of her and maybe even have some conversation.

A New Leaf?

Perhaps I'm going to turn my life around, right? I mean, like, May is totally the month for sunny happy thingers, right? So, um, maybe I'll just start writing every day again, or, maybe I won't because it would be like too much to handle. Way to rough.

Anyway, had a nice exchange with a celeb today at work. She was just lovely. And, I sent off another banana bread to my real favorite celeb -- she's been asking for it, so.

And what's with my mother? She sent me an email that started with OMG. No, Mom, don't get all sorority on me.

Ranting Return

So, CRAZY. Lots of things going on keeping me busy and out of the blogosphere. Can't, of course, talk about them here or else you'd learn my true identity... but one of the problems is about my summer and fall coming up and scheduling it all to work and make sense.

Yikes! I have a job offer in Pennsylvania for the summer, through early September. They're even being kind and giving me four days vacation to visit my family in North Carolina when they don't have to, which is just grand. But, there's another offer that I was supposed to get in New Hampshire which actually didn't come through, which is fine, however. The problem is what happens if I get this autumnal job offer, which I really must take, thus creating a two week overlap of work? Will I be able to be in two places at the same time? Also, what will I do with all my crap when I have to move anyway? I've accumulated a lot. Maybe I should drive home, thereby allowing myself to fill up the backseat of a car. Of course, who the hell knows if any of these things will happen.

Also, who could have predicted (well, basically, all of you did) back in the fall when I started Project 365 that by this point my posts would have dwindled so dramatically? Maybe if I ever decide to attempt some sort of major project again, I won't tell anyone so when I fail, fewer people will notice it. Or, perhaps I should just write it here because then it's certain that in fact the fewest possible people will read about it.

Over and out.