The Spree/Live It Up
Two nights ago Rich and I went to Cirque de Soleil (circus of the sun), La Nouba, and we had a very close view. It was wonderful. It was an endless parade of characters and music, sights and sounds. It was as if I had fallen into a dream and nightmare at once, where there were a few instances of things I had seen throughout the day, and odd U.S.S.R.-ish men and women dancing and haunting music, some fairly scary bald-headed man who hobbled and wobbled in all his spandex muscular glory. It was like an interplay of work/reality and dreams/fantasy. I was enthralled the whole show. I have to say that what really added to it were our seats, we were part of the show and the scariness was that factor that we might just get bashed in the head or landed upon by a flying man. Excellent.
Me.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
What About The Handicapped Ones?
You, faithful reader, already know that I go to the supermarket early in the morning, and I love doing it. To tell the truth I go to about 6 different ones. I compare prices, produce, workers, atmosphere and most of all I like to people watch.
Today, what struck me was handling. I think your skills maneuvering a shopping cart is a reflection of your driving.
One woman, older, frenzied, 'cut' me several times, rushing to something I was headed to, stopping before me, then I'd move on only to have her race behind me and cut me once more. She had a sleek, well-oiled cart.
Then there were the mothers with the babies, too busy yelling at their children, not looking where they were going, and feeling very entitled. They drove the SUV's of the store, those huge metal carts attached to those big plastic cars where the kids can ride inside. They would come out of an aisle without even checking if anyone was coming by.
There were a few people who didn't seem to care at all, their carts were the old, rusty types whose wheels were misaligned and caused them to swerve up and down the aisle, they had bad food in their carts as well. They were the ones who hit other people and their carts with their own.
Then there were the 'environmentalists' who didn't use carts, preferring baskets, so as not to take up too much space, they kept to the fruits and vegetables aisle, stopping to ascertain whether the fish was edible. They were also aware of other people around them. They usually were in the 10 items or less aisle.
Once in a while I'd see signs of 'aisle rage' where one person would be stuck behind a slow moving person. The enraged person would then zoom ahead only to slow down and meander just so the person behind him would be stuck behind him now.
Which supermarket driver are you?
Me.
You, faithful reader, already know that I go to the supermarket early in the morning, and I love doing it. To tell the truth I go to about 6 different ones. I compare prices, produce, workers, atmosphere and most of all I like to people watch.
Today, what struck me was handling. I think your skills maneuvering a shopping cart is a reflection of your driving.
One woman, older, frenzied, 'cut' me several times, rushing to something I was headed to, stopping before me, then I'd move on only to have her race behind me and cut me once more. She had a sleek, well-oiled cart.
Then there were the mothers with the babies, too busy yelling at their children, not looking where they were going, and feeling very entitled. They drove the SUV's of the store, those huge metal carts attached to those big plastic cars where the kids can ride inside. They would come out of an aisle without even checking if anyone was coming by.
There were a few people who didn't seem to care at all, their carts were the old, rusty types whose wheels were misaligned and caused them to swerve up and down the aisle, they had bad food in their carts as well. They were the ones who hit other people and their carts with their own.
Then there were the 'environmentalists' who didn't use carts, preferring baskets, so as not to take up too much space, they kept to the fruits and vegetables aisle, stopping to ascertain whether the fish was edible. They were also aware of other people around them. They usually were in the 10 items or less aisle.
Once in a while I'd see signs of 'aisle rage' where one person would be stuck behind a slow moving person. The enraged person would then zoom ahead only to slow down and meander just so the person behind him would be stuck behind him now.
Which supermarket driver are you?
Me.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Summer Reading List
I loved summer reading in school. I might have been the only one who did. I think it's because it was never an obstruction to my summer habits since it was just that, a summer habit (as well as a fall habit, a spring habit and winter habit). I loved (and still do) to read and was always grateful for someone's recommendation on what to read. In college I went to the first day of my English classes in anticipation of the wonderful syllabus that would list all of my new friends, by name and author. Most of the time I read them long before the class ever got to them which afforded me a second reading when we finally did.
Now do you know why my, at once favorite and hated episode of the twilight zone is: "Time Enough At Last"?
Just finished reading The Time Traveler's Wife a few days ago and I highly recommend it. Not just highly recommend but almost beg you to read it. It was good, very good. And so you ask, what was it about? Well, it was about a time traveler and his wife and it made me cry and feel badly, it was wonderful.
I have a few more books on my summer reading list, and I've begun The Amateur Marriage, which is starting off delightfully, if slowly, since I'm still reeling from the one above. I have Wicked on my list, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, and Brick Lane. I'll keep you posted on whether you should finish your last remaining summer days with any one of these. Peace out.
Me.
I loved summer reading in school. I might have been the only one who did. I think it's because it was never an obstruction to my summer habits since it was just that, a summer habit (as well as a fall habit, a spring habit and winter habit). I loved (and still do) to read and was always grateful for someone's recommendation on what to read. In college I went to the first day of my English classes in anticipation of the wonderful syllabus that would list all of my new friends, by name and author. Most of the time I read them long before the class ever got to them which afforded me a second reading when we finally did.
Now do you know why my, at once favorite and hated episode of the twilight zone is: "Time Enough At Last"?
Just finished reading The Time Traveler's Wife a few days ago and I highly recommend it. Not just highly recommend but almost beg you to read it. It was good, very good. And so you ask, what was it about? Well, it was about a time traveler and his wife and it made me cry and feel badly, it was wonderful.
I have a few more books on my summer reading list, and I've begun The Amateur Marriage, which is starting off delightfully, if slowly, since I'm still reeling from the one above. I have Wicked on my list, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, and Brick Lane. I'll keep you posted on whether you should finish your last remaining summer days with any one of these. Peace out.
Me.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Hook'd On Fonix
I don't speak tagalog well but I understand it, well mostly. However, I have dreams where I speak tagalog fluently and answer everyone with it.
I just recently had a dream where I was arguing with some woman in a store and I got upset and actually cursed her out in tagalog. That strikes me as odd in two ways, first I don't argue with people and second I don't even know any tagalog curses. It fascinates me that I can jabber away in tagalog in total confidence, as it is I am barely able to communicate. Which reminds me of how Uncle Art, Uncle Lito and my dad sang a song in tagalog, as a serenade and I understood most of it but had some trouble with a few words that are not part of my vocabulary.
When I have the time I will learn tagalog and learn to read it too. I'm terrible with reading the double vowels and what does 'ng' sound like and mean?
Me.
I don't speak tagalog well but I understand it, well mostly. However, I have dreams where I speak tagalog fluently and answer everyone with it.
I just recently had a dream where I was arguing with some woman in a store and I got upset and actually cursed her out in tagalog. That strikes me as odd in two ways, first I don't argue with people and second I don't even know any tagalog curses. It fascinates me that I can jabber away in tagalog in total confidence, as it is I am barely able to communicate. Which reminds me of how Uncle Art, Uncle Lito and my dad sang a song in tagalog, as a serenade and I understood most of it but had some trouble with a few words that are not part of my vocabulary.
When I have the time I will learn tagalog and learn to read it too. I'm terrible with reading the double vowels and what does 'ng' sound like and mean?
Me.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
So we're married...again.
Wow, I knew long before the event that the time would fly, but I wasn't prepared for how fast it went. All I remember is that later that same day we were pedaling for our lives on surrey bikes. It's always strange to do something different from something big because it divides it in your mind and makes both instances seem so far from one another. All I know is I walked down the aisle then I was biking frantically, panting and half hysterical. It seemed as though they were different days in a different year, in a different lifetime. We ended the evening, sitting on the balcony, watching fireworks, stuffing our faces with wedding cake (the one we were supposed to save for our anniversary) and listening to the sounds of the people and music from below. It was perfect.
Write soon,
Michelle
Wow, I knew long before the event that the time would fly, but I wasn't prepared for how fast it went. All I remember is that later that same day we were pedaling for our lives on surrey bikes. It's always strange to do something different from something big because it divides it in your mind and makes both instances seem so far from one another. All I know is I walked down the aisle then I was biking frantically, panting and half hysterical. It seemed as though they were different days in a different year, in a different lifetime. We ended the evening, sitting on the balcony, watching fireworks, stuffing our faces with wedding cake (the one we were supposed to save for our anniversary) and listening to the sounds of the people and music from below. It was perfect.
Write soon,
Michelle
