Tag: the Actor

On the Flip Side

No, I’m not dead, just buried. Freelance work seriously picked up and then I went home for six days. Now I’ve returned and started to make sense of the disaster zone also known as my desk at work, and have hope that the living room floor will be reclaimed within the next 72 hours. And so I get back to my writing, yours obediently.

I had the chance, early in the month, to attend Wisconsin Sheep and Wool. It was a bit of a drive but the day was lovely and I was on a mission. At the Jefferson Fairgrounds I found two large buildings full of vendors with all manner of woolly goodness. That I succumbed only to some beautiful pale seafoam green alpaca, some tweedy alpaca, two skeins of coarser but delicious Icelandic wool and a couple of bars of soap should be applauded. Apparently I’m now collecting bars of great handmade soap, but at least it gets used and cleanliness/godliness and all that.

Also I met some sheep. There were a lot of sheep that looked like ones that I imagine in my head when I think of those wool-providing creatures. Then there were the ones as pictured here, who looked a lot more like goats that someone stuffed into a woolly pillow. Doesn’t that look like a fluffy Alpine to you?

The majority of the sheep were friendly and happy to discover whether or not I tasted like a salt lick. Fingers are always an acceptable nibbling treat.

I finished my first ever pair of socks! It came about entirely as a coping method one day, when I had so much running about in my brain that I quite literally could not do anything else. I sat and knit just plain stitches, one after the other, around in a very small circle. 52 stitches per row. Who knows how many rows because I didn’t count. Just one more needle, one more row. My brain ran on at insane miles per hour and my physical self worked stitch after stitch.


They haven’t been blocked yet. The yarn is Sanguine Gryphon Eidos in Alcibiades using the numbers/pattern from the Tsock Tsarina’s Tsock 101 Kit for those of the knitterly persuasion playing along.

And then it was back to Queens for two days of Indian summer and the first chills of fall. I stayed with the Brunette and Husband and new roommate. The Actor convinced me that singing for Rock Band, in public, was somehow acceptable. I made my way through Evanescence and No Doubt before it was decided that my rock repertoire was rather limited. (I knew this, they didn’t believe me. When Rock Band comes out with the 24 Italian Songs and Arias for Medium-High Voice version, call me.)

The Blonde, Brunette, Husband and I went apple picking upstate, in/near Warwick, NY. It’s a combination apple picking, rose garden (small but great colors), winery, and homemade donuts place. We stood for over 40 minutes waiting in line for fresh donuts and agreed that it was a form of unusual punishment to wait and be able to see and smell hot donuts but not buy nor taste lest our tongues be burnt. But warm apple cider donuts and great wine, as well as quite abundant apples, made it well worth the trip. (The two bottles of wine survived the plane trip home!!!)

Me in the obligatory “put your head in the cutout” –as required by the Blonde.

Finally, I headed into the City to meet up with My-Friend-the-Lawyer (who these days is more like My-Friend-the-Student, but he’s almost done with that) and eat amazing Lebanese food at Naya. The desserts were incredible.

So that’s where I’ve been.

City Feet–and the Lack Thereof…

I’m developing suburb feet–and it’s something I’m not especially pleased about.

As I recently described to a friend, I used to walk, in heels, on concrete, upwards of two miles a day.(1) When he winced visibly I reminded him that it’s different in a city where one relies upon public transportation. I lived a full mile from the subway and walked back and forth at least five days a week. Add in any other walking to lunch or to meet the Blonde and I was probably seeing an average of 15-20 miles a week out on the streets of Manhattan and Queens. Now, I’ve never been one for stiletto heels on the daily basis. I like a pretty solid and tall heel under me. One of my favorite tests that I have for my shoes is to go out in them with the Brunette. Along with being somewhat taller than I am, he walks very quickly along city streets. If I can keep up with him, it was money well spent.

My first inkling that I might not be up to my usual walks came in March, on a flying trip out to NY. It was pouring down rain (though blissfully not snow) and I hadn’t worn the shoes in question for some time. Also, they’ve never been the best fit. I’m kind of between sizes–so I go with whatever shoe seems to fit better the day I’m buying and this might not have been the best of shopping experiences. But I kept up with the Blonde as she and I hauled up 8th Ave to catch a show and then afterwards matched stride with the Actor—who is 6’2″. I was 5’7″ish that day but still fit very comfortably under his arm.

When we arrived back to Forest Hills to change for the evening I realized that not only did I have blisters, but they were way beyond manageable if I expected to wear those same shoes in the near future. Fortunately, I was changing to a different pair of heels–these just as tall but with a slightly different fit. Rather heavily bandaged and freshly shod, we were right back out and I was in those shoes until 2 a.m.–when we collapsed into a diner booth for a snack. (I won’t count the taxi ride home.)

I came home and returned to my normal schedule, until a recent run to Chicago. I should have considered when I woke up at 6:30 a.m. on that Saturday morning (2) that I wouldn’t really be stopping until wee hours of Sunday morning. I’m not sure it would have helped–as I knew that part of the reason I was getting dressed for the evening at 6:30 a.m. was that I knew I wouldn’t really be anywhere that allowed for much in the way of fully changing attire all day. But there I was, running about Wicker Park and Lakeview, dragging a former coworker up and down Michigan and State Streets on a yarn run(3), and then out with some friends who, while lovely and sweet, are male–and tall. As in 6’+…..all but one of them.

I’m not complaining about the company but by the time we got “home” for the night, I’d been in said heels for over 19 hours. So even with preemptive bandaging, I was in pretty rough shape. And of course, I went out walking a bunch on Sunday too. I did wear flats that day, but only because when I tried to put on my heels I nearly fell down. I do make some small concessions when faced with passing out every time I take a step.

But anyway, suburb feet. I drive everywhere here. Most of us do, unless we’re out walking for our health or to exercise our pets. While I wouldn’t think of a half mile or even a mile as a long walk when I’m in a city, here it’s a long distance. I’m sure some of this will change in the summer–I have every intention of spending lunch hours walking to and from the farmers market they put up. It’s not daily walking though, mandated by our transportation and it means my feet, while not getting the same abuse and indeed because of it, are less up to city travails.

This does not mean, however, that next time I’m out to NY or Chicago I’m wearing sneakers. It just means I’m packing extra band aids, moleskin and Neosporin.

(1) Uphill and in the snow both ways too darn it!!!
(2) drove in Friday night
(3) They MIGHT have let me change clothes at the yarn store but it’s not what one wants to ask

It Helps to Know People…

In nearly any career field, networking is highly important. Librarians constantly talk about getting know people–it just opens up that many more possibilities and opportunities. I had the opportunity to see a very tangible benefit of informal networking while in NY.

A friend of mine is currently in a Broadway show. I met said Actor in Chicago while we were both doing a show–he, on stage; I, ushing. Once it had been established that I was headed home for the weekend, he and I discussed tickets and the possibility of dinner thereafter. He advised that post show I could come backstage so I didn’t have to wait outside in the questionable early spring weather. I would have 2 other gorgeous women with me, would that be okay? It would.

The day arrived and it was utterly torrential. Add to that a line to get into the theater that was over a block long and only two umbrellas between the three of us and we were quite damp by the time we got into the theater. Post show we were less damp, mostly. Wet wool coats that are being sat on in close quarters just don’t dry in 2 hours, so I still felt somewhat like a wet sheep. (Baaaa)

I got directions to the stage door and headed outside to find it. Ahh, the one with the big burly man standing in front of it. There was a small barrier set up to allow the actors to come out and not be immediately assaulted by signature seekers. I sucked in a deep breath and (not realizing that the Blonde and other friend weren’t directly behind me) walked right up to the security man.

“Hi, I’m here to see Actor” (Praying that he remembered to put me on the list…)
“Are you on the list?”
“I’m supposed to be.”

He consults with another large burly man who is in the theater, this one with a list. “I’m Hedgie, here to see Actor.”
“You have two people with you?”
“Yes!” (Frantically gesturing to friends)

Second Large Security Man put us just off stage right with clear instructions to stay put until Actor appeared, which he did relatively promptly. Then we got to sweep back out the stage door and off to dinner.

It was a neat opportunity, standing out just a little from the rest of those waiting by virtue of knowing someone and knowing just a little bit more. It’s also kind of heady.

Trying to figure out how soon I can do it again.

Superhero Sunday

Our first quiz du jour is courtesy of 3M’s priest, who always had an extra fabulous hug waiting for me at the end of the night.

Your results:
You are Superman

Wonder Woman
Iron Man
Green Lantern
The Flash
You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the “Which Superhero are you?” quiz…

And the other one is courtesy of the fact that I know too many comic readers…I might even venture to mention that I live with one who has all of her comics in plastic wrappers with boards. I’m not that good to my books.

Which Marvel Super-Hero are you most like?

You are most like Daredevil!
Take this quiz!

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