Well, I survived the final work day before Christmas. I exited early when I learned that the building would be closing at 3:00 and did my remaining time at home.
Had lunch with a co-worker who seemed more depressed about the workplace than even I do.
Spent Christmas Eve quietly at a friend's house, where we discussed our various holiday traditions past as we drank spirits and ate rich food. Ex-pats in Seattle! The night was silent, bright, and clear.
On Christmas Day we saw Fantastic Mr. Fox, which was playing at a decent theatre with few children in attendance. I liked it, but it bore little resemblance to what I remember as being a cozy, socialist fantasia. This film seemed more of a hipster, retro-didactic sermon on modern family life and relationships. Maybe time for a re-read. Since we had forgotten to buy food and the stores were closed, we had dinner at local Indian restaurant where the food is good, but the service weird.
What will Boxing Day have in store?
So here I am at work. I don't really know what to expect since this is my first time working a Christmas Eve day at this place (last year I was "snowed in" and "working from home"). I have worked for employers who gave you Christmas Eve off and employers who didn't. In terms of the latter, I don't think I have ever worked at a place where the manager didn't come around in the morning on Christmas Eve day and tell the staff they could leave early.
Of course none of the managers are in.
There are about five people working in my department, one of whom invited me to lunch to break up the monotony. That was a nice gesture, which never would have occurred to me.
But the insult added to injury is that the public transportation is running on a "holiday" schedule, which means all of the express buses were canceled. I had to leave 25 minutes earlier to get here at the same time I usually do. And while it was pretty out ("calm and bright" and all that) and I generally enjoy those all too rare moments of solitude, I felt spooked nonetheless. Very conscious of the dozens of places where someone could jump out of the bushes and attack me. And of course there is not much of a security detail to begin with (because this is such a "safe" place) and none at all today because of the supposed holiday. Even though we have to be at work.
But I am not in a bad mood. Just wondering how I'm going to stay awake through any holiday festivities this evening and tomorrow. I just consumed an enormous coffee (nice barista!), but the caffeine is having zero effect.
Happy H-Days to All!
I must really be getting old because I find myself in agreement with the New York Times critics on both performances I attended during my stay, Encores! Girl Crazy and the opening night benefit at New York City Ballet. In both instances, the orchestra was by far the most entertaining aspect of the event. I don't have any real complaints about the renovations at the New York State Theater, although it will take some getting used to. It no longer felt quite like home. The grille (if that's what it should be called) of lights at the box office seemed the lamest aspect (and the one most likely to show signs of wear and tear in a hurry). The lack of carpeting in the auditorium is the biggest novelty. I don't mind bare floors, but the painted concrete reminded me of my time in the projects. Also, the improved acoustics now make every cough even more audible, as well as the clomping of latecomers. I liked the elevated platform for the orchestra that can go up and down (just like Radio City Music Hall!), but I can't really see to what great use either of the hall's main constituents will be able to make of it. Surprise me! I'll save my reviews of the new Martins piece for one of my future, negative posts--this one is supposed to be upbeat!
In a sign of hope (or foolishness), I revived my membership at Film Forum. When we got in the cab to JFK (I know, I am getting extravagant), Rhapsody in Blue began playing on the radio. Time to start the countdown clock to the next visit.
Meanwhile, the "reality" of my personal life seems to consist of marking time between my next trip to New York (soon now, so soon I can taste it). Or, to be more accurate, I think I am waking up to the reality that I enjoy dividing my time between East and West. I just wish the ratios could be adjusted. Could it happen?
It took that extra day, but it was worth the wait. Wish I could have been there to feel the energy in the streets. Meanwhile, I couldn't be further away here in Mudsville.
As I described before, Game Four really took me on an emotional ride. Last night I just felt content and pleasantly anticipatory throughout. It seemed clear the Yankees would win from the start (how could they not, with Mary K. Blige singing the national anthem?). They definitely pulled out all the stops. What a mythical performance by Matsui, with his iconic stance (funny how all the batting stances or pitching motions are as instantly recognizable as the way certain dancers move). And Mariano, like a grizzled Roman senator. But of course, Pettite has always been a favorite (now the sinner redeemed).
I contemplated calling in sick to savor the mood, but don't want to use up those sick days on frivolity with H1N1 lurking in every corridor. The nicer co-workers were conciliatory, the shitty ones silent. Keep it up and I have the makings of a "hostile workplace" grievance. Now wouldn't that be something?
Well, that didn't work out too well. Although the Yankees showed signs of life at the end after the pitching had disappointed. Better to win in New York anyway.
A rare little interlude of feeling good; even work crones and other dolts cannot completely annihilate my spirit today. Thanks for the extra hour of sleep ('tho staying up an extra hour undid any good). It was nice to step outside this morning and not be in total darkness.
I am savoring this World Series with its hints of mythic '77,' 78 and '96. I'm not taking anything for granted, but I do hope the Yankees can pull out one more win tonight. I am ready for it to be over. Last night I felt so drained when the game concluded. I was literally kvelling.
Here's to the Frisco Kid!
Nothing to do with Halloween; just boo to everything in general.
The Yankees lost last night. Hopefully today will be a turnaround.
I had my first meeting with Miss Caswell recently. She appeared to make an effort to secure me as an ally, while simultaneously trying to assert her authority and maintain a charming mien. In spite of her confidence, her insecurities show through. I find her officiousness to be strident (why do we always find women we don't like to be strident? unfair, I suppose, but that and "overreaching" are the words swirling through my brain). It seems fairly obvious to me that she will become a real bitch the first time she does not get her own way in something. I was my usual "nice" self, but not very forthcoming. Although I was cordial, I suspect my contempt is as transparent as her sense of entitlement.
Fun times.
I need to find a better balance between my "work life" and life itself. An innocent bystander, I've been forced to observe our own little workplace All About Eve, though minus the wit or style. Very surreal, but I am afraid that the ingenue in question will prove to be more Miss Caswell than Eve Harrington (and I'm falling short in the Addison DeWitt department).
Yesterday was another one of those bleak days in which everything goes wrong. The Yankees lost. The heretofore cheese-tastic Battle of the Blades eliminated the only contestant worth tuning in for (thereby demonstrating that Canadians can be as crap-tastic as the rest of North America). I was having problems with my computer at work (forcing me to focus more on our little office drama than I would have cared to). And other assorted pettiness.
But the weekend approaches with some potential fun on the horizon. I'll write more when it happens.
"Why what a smooth-spoken false-tongued world it is! ....Let a man succeed in his vilest scheme, and no living creature will care to ask by what foul means he may have won his success!"
You know who you are.
on Absences