...but the Pavement Always Stayed Beneath My Feet Before

Fall is finally here! I took this picture on my walk home from work today - I could not resist. The world is beautiful right now. At long last, I'm getting used to using my camera. What it is teaching me is that I don't know anything about cameras or photography. My mom, who has been a photography freak since the early 70's, has been waiting for this moment for years - I am actually taking an interest in her favorite lifelong hobby. I picked out a Chinon from the 80's from her collection to practice on. It came with a wide-angle lens that I am truly excited about trying out, and it has an automatic winder that makes it feel SO GOOD to hold in my hand.
This, of course, is in addition to my newly-budding knitting hobby. And the jewelry. And the writing, which I've put off for way too long. And my insatiable appetite for books which does not seem to be diminishing as the years go by.
I have been kind of a busy girl lately, but since the busy-ness has been caused by work and hobbies, there isn't really much to tell. I'm reading Cynthia Ozick's The Puttermesser Papers, and I'm savoring this one. I can't quite tell yet if I like it or not. It's certainly well-written, it's interesting, it's kind of funny... just... bizarre. If Haruki Murakami, Philip Roth, and Paul Auster got together to write a book, it might come out something like this. It's about a pencil-pushing New York City bureaucrat who accidentally brings a golem to life who gets her elected mayor. The book is surreal and strange and nightmarish, but not in a bad way; it takes a lot for a book or film to get under my skin, and this one definitely is. It makes me vaguely uncomfortable... I can't put my finger on why.
Feist's previous album Let It Die will not leave my iPod, my car or my head. I listen to this song several times a day:

Untitled (or, a Really Pretentious Title)

Let go of your ego.
Sometimes it is not about you.

The more that I've said this to myself lately, the happier I've become.
I took one semester of theater in high school, and ran screaming. I hate drama so hard.

NYU Library

Before I Collapse Into Bed...

Pain.
All the time.
It will not die.
At least not without drugs that are a little too strong for around-the-clock-use.
My books, my knitting, Netflix and new music have kept me sane for the past 3 weeks. In that 3 week time, I haven't left my house for anything other than work, a visit with my family or a quiet dinner out. I can't lie, though - they have been nice dinners.
Everyone has been so sweet to me and so patient with me since my surgery - my friends are the best. They are more than the best - they are special. The world is teaming with people who aren't special at all. People who have no interest in others, people who live their lives with the philosophy of "what can you give me for free?", people who are not kind, people who don't get it. Do you understand what I mean by "get it?" Those people who truly get it know that nothing is better in this lifetime of ours than a great book, a big laugh, the perfect pair of shoes or a dinner with 2 or more OTHER people who get it.
If you know people who get it, do not treat them carelessly. They are incredibly hard to find.

Astor Place

Potent Potables (and Sweat Glands) for $200, Alex

Do not ever, ever have surgery if you can possibly help it. I've been home for the past week watching crappy cable, staring at the ceiling fan (and if you've seen Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me as many times as I have, you know that this can be truly, horrifically frightening), and being alternately grumpy and whiny. I had 3 sweat glands removed last week, and it's been kind of miserable. Even the pain drugs weren't worth it. Being out of it on pain meds is one thing, but being out of it on pain meds with 2 incisions that STILL HURT just makes you feel sad and loopy.

I'm back at work now, though, and trying to get back into the grind. I had big plans to have lots of friends over last weekend to console me through my misery, but I was not in any shape to leave the bed, really. This weekend is going to continue to be one of R & R. I am normally a pretty active, busy person, but right now the thought of getting in my car and driving to the grocery store makes me wince.
This book helped me through the pain and misery. It's not rocket science or high literature, but this guy made me laugh my ass off. You can't go wrong with a title like How I Paid for College: A Novel of Sex, Theft, Friendship, and Musical Theater. It's about a high school drama geek who wants to go to Julliard, but his father won't pay for it. The book was totally engaging and original, and after reading it, I did a little research and found that it's become huge among teen readers. Anyway, I'd highly recommend it. I also learned something crucial that I wish I'd known in high school: if you're 17 and want to buy beer, wear a nun's suit. Store clerks will never card a nun. The gang in the book keep a nun's habit and a priest's suit handy at all times.
Let's see, what else? OH, I went to NEW YORK over Labor Day. Saw good friends, saw the city, ate some amazing food, bought an amazing coat... couldn't have been better. I will post pictures directly.
The cool weather has been good for my soul. It's supposed to be 78 and rainy tomorrow, and I couldn't be happier about it. I will happily wear jeans and a jacket for the first time in way too long. Like I always do at the end of August, I was starting to think that it would never get cool again.
More later...

The Emperor's Children

Claire Messud is brilliant. Read her book. It does my heart good to see a writer making money who is talented and deserves it. Or maybe it just does my heart good to see a writer making money at all. She gets people, I think. And she genuinely likes them - even the spoiled, self-absorbed ones. I wish I hadn't finished it now. The Emperor's Children is one of the best books I've read in a long time.

On the opposite side of the coin, I'm stoked about the new show Gossip Girl. I read the first couple of books in that series on an airplane, and it was like eating blue cotton candy (which seems faker than the pink, somehow, you know?). It was syrupy sweet, and dissolved just as I thought I'd gotten a taste of something real. It looks like a modernized 90210, but the people are hotter, younger (that one won't be hard, though - Gabrielle looked like she should be picking up her own kids from school), and don't wear those gross tapestry vests over a big white pirate shirt and pleated black pants. And no one seems to have crunchy perms or visible black roots.
I didn't have a crunchy perm. My hair already kind of did one on its own, but frizzier. Those were the early 90's, before I discovered fast straightening methods, Aveda, and Bed Head Manipulator. We should all be granted a general amnesty and be forgiven for the things we wore / liked / thought looked good in the early 90's. Let's include the late 80's while we're at it. The "crimping" craze in 5th grade got really, really ugly. I had a pair of red Guess? jean shorts with a matching jacket that, looking back, were so hideously ugly that they should've been burned.
But let's not dwell on that ugliness. Let's all say a collective prayer to whatever deity we worship or entity we almost believe in that we live in the days of Proactiv Solution, ionic blow-dryers, shoulder pad-free jackets, open-toed flats, and wrap dresses that flatter almost everyone. Oh, and Free People. And Vincent Longo lip gloss. Amen.