lapis_lazuli022: (sword)
Not because of the movies themselves. We saw Beowulf this afternoon. I liked it. The animation was mostly a thrill ride through uncanny valley but I enjoyed the script for what it was and found the environmental effects beautiful and well done.

No, movies are fine. I just don't think I want to see movie trailers anymore.

Today we had trailers for Cloverfield and I Am Legend, and I'm not linking to them deliberately because I don't want to get close enough to them to look them up. I see that it's popular to destroy New York City for cinema again, and I want no part of it. Maybe it's cute to other people, people who weren't there or who've never been there. Maybe it's more engaging to the audience when you pick landmarks people know in abstract or visited once as tourists, and blow those things up or show them in ruins.

Maybe it makes thrilling cinema for other people, but I've been there, done that, gotten the chronic health condition and the FEMA therapist and the PTSD and I'm done, thanks. Show your movies to the people who sign on for that ride. I opt to bail out and take the kiddie door back to the carousel, and I don't care how weak or stupid it makes me look. I'm damaged, I'm not going to pretend I'm not, and while this takes a backseat in everyday life and I've beaten it down to the point where I can function, function well, and not think about it anymore, anyone who's been there can tell you it's never fucking going away.

If I go to see the movie, then fine, I accept whatever's in the movie. When I go to see a different movie and I'm not prepared, I don't want to be bombarded with the fact that my trauma is the rest of the world's cheap thrill.

I'll be over here, waiting for the video.
lapis_lazuli022: (icy)
Tickets for How the Grinch Stole Christmas: The Musical went on sale this morning, on 42nd Street. A snow machine was on hand, cranking out a blizzard of tiny fake snowflakes to set the mood.

Fake snowflakes, it turns out, are soapsud fragments. You know when you overload the bathtub with bubbles, then scoop them up in your hand and blow on them? It's just like that, except without the bathtub. It's clever, really, because the bubbles are little white flecks that look just like snow, and they'll pop and go away when they land on your clothing, just like snow (except without the popping).

Being bubbles, they're also lighter than air, and the wind can carry them fairly far. I passed from the upwind side this morning, so I saw the machine first and the snow next, but the people getting snowed on without any explanation a few blocks away looked awfully confused.
lapis_lazuli022: (Default)
This morning on the bus, there was a woman wearing a large red and white "FUR IS MURDER" button... proudly pinned to her long leather coat.

I've been thinking about this all day, trying to come up with some rationalization, some way that this isn't hypocritical. I'm failing.
lapis_lazuli022: (icy)
Yesterday (technically this morning at around 2am) makes for thirteen years since [livejournal.com profile] hbergeronx and I first met face to face. Yesterday was also his birthday. He hates having a fuss made over his birthday, so instead of making a fuss here, I did it in person.

Despite NYC being ankle-deep in slush, he came in to meet me in the afternoon and hung out in my office with me, browsing my bookshelves, until I could leave. I introduced him to some more coworkers and told all of them that it was his birthday. He was a very good sport about it. :)

I'd done a little research on restaurants, but hadn't come to any decisions. There's a concentration of them over on Mott/Mulberry streets, so I figured we'd browse and see what caught our eyes.

We ended up having dinner at Eight Mile Creek, a tiny Australian restaurant on Mulberry between Prince and Spring. A little too pricey to go on a regular basis, but really good food. I tried the seared kangaroo, because how often do you get a chance to try kangaroo around here, and it was great. Very mild and tender. To drink I had cider, and Matt had a sparkling shiraz. I hadn't known that sparkling red wines even exist, but it was good enough that we're going to track some down for home. We stopped in at the liquor store on Astor to browse, and they had several, but we didn't want to cart it around all evening.

All evening being our next stop, with tickets to see Blue Man Group. We've wanted to go for ages and just don't get around to going to shows very often. With the theater just up the street from my office, it couldn't be much more convenient, so I thought it would make a nice, memorable present, and it did. We sat in the "poncho section", where they give you a raincoat to keep you from being splattered by the performance, so it was almost a letdown that no splatter happened, despite a lot of buildup and "is /this/ the part where they shower us with paint?" sort of anxiety. The show was fantastic. It was also the closest I've ever been to being inspired to pick up a percussion instrument again. It was great musically and visually, with humor going on many levels, and with a bit of wry social commentary thrown in the mix, as well. I highly recommend seeing them if you get a chance. I also highly recommend being ON TIME. This is not a performance to be late to, unless public humiliation is your thing.

The bus ride home was quick, and I think I was asleep before I was in the door. If not before, then very soon after. I had beautiful, if strange, very percussive dreams. :)
lapis_lazuli022: (Default)
I was in line for the bus behind a woman with a handbag that had the brand name "No Boundaries" written all over it in stark letters. All the zippers on the bag were open.

No boundaries to thieves, I guess...
lapis_lazuli022: (icy)
This afternoon, I walked through Times Square on my way home as I usually do. As I stood at the corner waiting for the light to change, the two women in front of me -- average looking women, casually dressed -- made plans to part ways. One pulled out a small notepad and gave it to the other, to jot her phone number down.

By the time she had finished, three other people had queued up behind the notebook's owner, just on the off chance (I heard them reason to each other) that the person jotting something in someone else's notebook was some celebrity they didn't recognize, giving autographs.

The two women didn't seem to notice the queue. They hugged and wandered off, leaving three confused people just... standing there in a line.

Hee.
lapis_lazuli022: (boots)
A nice spring-like day in NYC and the film crews are in bloom. I've already seen not one, but two, just on my way to work.

An episode of Monk is setting up in Times Square this morning. Twelve trailers spanning one long city block. Credits on the doors like "Disheveled Guy" and "Leaflet Guy", in addition to the last names of recurring cast, and then "#1 T.S." with a whole trailer to himself.

Which is nothing compared to the bad-ass trailer Will Smith is parked in outside my office right now for the filming of The Last First Kiss. This thing is shiny dark charcoal grey with blacked out windows and an enclosed private porch. Some of these things are damn nice on the inside. And the door to Will's is flanked by two potted palm trees.

I guess you know you've made it in the world when even your trailer-for-the-day is landscaped.
lapis_lazuli022: (eyes)
Every once in a while, I get a craving for the chai over at Hampton Chutney, at Prince & Crosby Streets.

Their chai is made on the premises, is not from a package, and is second only to [livejournal.com profile] hbergeron's homemade chai in excellence.

If I could stop in for a large chai on my way to the office in the morning, I'd give them a lot more business, but since they don't open till 11 AM, they're missing out. At least I'm spared from developing an expensive morning beverage habit. I try to tell myself that this is a good thing...

Their food is... eh. It's overpriced, trendy, yuppified Indian-like food, and it always seems to disagree with me. Yesterday I was just planning on stopping in for chai and then getting lunch from the cafe in my building, but I noticed that their bread is made of lentils, and they have this breakfast entree that's been catching my eye for a while now... So even though it was lunchtime (because, did I mention? they're not open for breakfast!), I figured I'd give it a shot.

It's more a take-out counter than a restaurant, though there are a couple of tables with chairs. You place your order and give your name, and they call you when your order is up.

The couple of times I've given them my name, they've had a lot of trouble with it, so I've taken to giving more common names instead of mine (which is uncommon, yes, but not nearly as difficult as people always seem to make it out to be).

So, I give them the first not-uncommon, easy to spell name that comes to mind -- I think it's been a different one each time. As long as I remember what I've told them, what does it really matter? I haven't been there enough times for them to realize my name keeps changing. So far, I think I've been Sarah, Maria, and Kate.

It occurs to me that if I start going on a regular basis, I'll probably feel obligated to pick one and commit to it.

Anyway, the food I ordered was quite yummy, and it didn't fight back! I now have a dining option there, which is nice. While there are a lot of restaurants around here, there aren't many wheat-free options within a block or two, and that's as far as I want to travel when it's this cold. I may even stop calling it the 'Yummy Chai Place' and concede that they serve food, too.
lapis_lazuli022: (boots)
Today it wasn't the five dollar watch guy, it was the five dollar handbag guy.

He actually had the nerve to step in front of me, with his palms facing out to stop me, saying, "Any handbag you want, five dollars!"

I growled something and tried to walk around him, but he kept pace with me, stopping me again. "Any wallet, five dollars!"

Inspiration struck. I said, "Not missing my bus, priceless!"

He laughed, and let me pass.
lapis_lazuli022: (boots)
Harrison Ford's statue was outside the wax museum today. Yesterday it was Morgan Freeman. I continue to assert that, if I commute through Times Square long enough, I will eventually see all of Mme Tussaud's figures without ever having gone into the museum.

The five dollar watch guy was back today. I think he gave me a dirty look as I passed, but I might have just imagined it. :)

And, as I got home, there were three men in front of my building, seemingly owners of a white van parked on our street. While two of them moved in and out of the van, the other one turned on the low water faucet attached to the front of the building (for gardening and maintenance purposes) and they commenced taking turns rinsing their heads under the faucet. I'm thinking maybe they're our development's hired landscapers, and they'd just finished planting flora, and were washing off. I'm not sure what else to think -- I've never witnessed a drive-by washing.

mondayness

Jun. 9th, 2003 08:12 am
lapis_lazuli022: (owl)
I've been doing this commute for nearly three years, and this morning was the very first time I drifted off on the downtown bus, dozed through my stop, and ended up in Chinatown.

Luckily, Chinatown's not very far (it's only a couple of blocks), and it wasn't quite raining yet, so it wasn't too bad a walk back. While walking, I noticed that the seam on my tights had inched around to be under my toes. Ow, I hate when that happens.

On the plus side, now I know where Pearl River Mart is. Looks like someplace fun to browse around when I have some time. We were talking about it the day we went to Chelsea Market, but I hadn't actually known where it was.

There's a big LED clock out front here, counting down days, hours and minutes till midnight, June 21. It's kind of cute.

Oh, and I almost forgot...

There are a few leftover containers in the refrigerator that the editors use. The sign taped to the lid of one container reads "Please Do Not Through Out".
lapis_lazuli022: (boots)

Street vendor: Get yer 5 dollar watches! 5 dollar watches here! It's not every day you can buy a watch for just 5 dollars!

Me: In this city?

Street vendor: Troublemaker...
lapis_lazuli022: (standing)

I'm having a hard time getting motivated to start working today. The report that snuck onto my desk in the last working hour of Friday is still here, still half-complete, begging for me to pick it up and start entering dividend rates and looking up unit costs.

I'm not sure why, but I had been entertaining this complex delusion in which someone else deemed this report a high priority and took it upon themselves to finish it yesterday, in my absence. Oh, well... It was a nice fantasy.

Having yesterday off was nice. I have another planned vacation day on Friday, and I'm tempted to call in apathetic on Thursday as well. We'll see.

Yesterday, [livejournal.com profile] cowboy_r and I woke up far earlier than we needed to. We spent a leisurely morning around the house, and left around 11:30 to meet [livejournal.com profile] diamond_j in Manhattan for lunch. We had mexican food in a pretty good restaurant that R recalled enjoying when he lived here. (Cantina, on 12th Street near University Place). It was decorated in typical Mexican restaurant style, with the addition of a generous sprinkling of shamrocks.

After saying our farewells to J, who was off to an appointment, we wandered down to the WTC site. I'd been more-or-less stalling on going down there, but since R had worked in one of those Buildings That Aren't There Anymore, I had mentioned that if he should decide he wanted to see the place for himself, I would like to take the opportunity and come along.

He sums it up well.

As I mentioned to him later, it hadn't affected me the way I expected it to - the way it affected him - because that part of the city isn't a place I visited much. It's not something I really had much context for. I'd never gotten out of that subway exit when the buildings were there, so I couldn't appreciate what it looked like with them missing. The skyline as seen across the Hudson River, or the view from my office, affect me much more.

I guess the almost-abstraction of the buildings from a more distant perspective was a part of my daily life in the way that the buildings themselves, in a stand-in-front-of-them, go-to-work-in-them way, were not. In my lifetime, I think I only actually passed them on foot, or entered them, a total of (hold on, I'm counting...) 5 or 6 times.

Still, I was glad to be there with R, to share in a part of his experience of them; I was glad to be there for R, to offer an ear to listen and a hand to hold while he processed what he needed to process.

Anyway, from there, we wandered and did a bit of window shopping, and then headed home.

We only spent a total of 4 hours in the city, but it took a lot out of us. By about 8 or 9 pm, we were both ready to crash, and we did head off to sleep not much later than that.

So, why am I so tired today?

healing

Sep. 25th, 2002 10:46 am
lapis_lazuli022: (standing)
An appropriate 1,000th entry, I think: accepting the past and moving forward, acknowledging strength, growth and change.

I had my first official Project Liberty appointment this morning. Still weird to see 'FEMA' listed as my insurance. It always makes me think of the X-Files movie.

Anyway...

It went very well. I'm not sure how much I want to talk about it, but I do want to say that this is absolutely the right thing for me to be doing for myself right now.

We talked some about my past and my early disillusionment with the concepts of personal safety and protective authority figures, and about how that probably influenced how I have dealt with all this and why it's been so hard for me to come to a point where I can believe I'm safe enough to process my experiences instead of just retelling them, and put it behind me. And to really accept that I'm the only person this frustrated with me for not being "over it" yet.

She is intuitive without being patronizing. She accepts that I have insight into my own nature and doesn't fight me on the things I've learned about myself, yet makes connections where I might not have noticed them.

I normally would have bristled at the questions about my history, feeling they're not relevant: 'I'm here to talk about that day and what's happened since. The rest isn't important!' But because her perspective was more one of wanting to know what's happened in my life so that she knows what experiences and triggers and coping mechanisms I brought with me to that day, not just a "so, tell me about your mother" attitude, I found it easier to open up to her and to trust her motivation in asking the questions to be genuine.

I'm encouraged. I think this will be productive. I think it's what I need.

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