I'm not for sure on the title yet. My musical might be called Quarantine! instead of Pandemic! I cannot decide right now, though I absolutely am certain that an exclamation point will be attached regardless of title.
I was watching the "Sondheim's 90th Birthday" celebration last night. (as an aside, I confess I was only watching because I wanted to see Lin-Manuel Miranda) I am not even remotely familiar with Sondheim's work. Or maybe I am. I don't know. Because, with the exceptions of Les Miserables and Hamilton, I tend to think that songs in Broadway musicals kind of all sound alike. Which is what, after watching last night, led me to the epiphany that I, Kim Traversi, can write a broadway musical.
It will likely not, and I really want to emphasize the NOT part of that, be very good. But also you very well might love it anyway and it may run on the Great White Way (racist!) for years like Cats, which was about anthropomorphized singing felines in a disturbingly, distortedly large city and it ran for a record 18 years. So maybe the bar isn't set super high.
Here's my list of song titles so far for Pandemic!/Quarantine! I am trying to put them into a logical order but to be fair I think I could put them in any order and it would seem logical given how this whole outbreak has evolved. I am currently thinking that my cast of characters will be mostly just ordinary people dealing with this situation, but there will be a Greek Chorus kind of narrating the whole thing and it will be completely composed of Trump administration people.
My song list:
1. The Chinese Virus (I think this is a catchy title for a song, honestly, but also I'll have to be very, very careful with the lyrics as well as intonation)
2. This is Nothing! (this song will be sung by a group of people (characters) who dismiss all the warnings regarding coronavirus and think everyone is over-reacting; you know these people--they consider themselves experts on everything, including medicine, yet have no documentable expertise on anything; not for nothing, they tend to be Trump supporters, which will be somehow worked into this song)
2a. This Is, In Fact, Something. (you get the idea)
3. Meet Dr. Fauci (this could also be called Meet Dr. Birx; I haven't decided yet which direction I'm going with this song)
4. Where Has All the Toilet Paper Gone? (not nearly as rhythmic as Where Have All the Flowers Gone, but I think I can make it work)
5. The Social Distancing Cha Cha (which will also involve background music/lyrics of MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This" somehow incorporated in)
6. 72 Inches is Six Feet Apart (inspired by Rent's 525,600 Minutes, so kind of like that)
7. I'm Going to Bake! (this song will not JUST be about baking; it will be lots of different people singing about the magical new hobbies they are undertaking while confined to their homes)
8. Times Square is Empty (a number, downtempo, about sheltering at home; not really sure how to inject anything pithy into this one considering NYC's situation, so not going to try)
9. The Dialogue of the Cuomos (wherein Andrew and Chris spar back and forth, simultaneously entertaining us and giving us relevant, truthful information; likely going to have a Trump pacing in the background interjecting queries about how he can steal back the spotlight)
10. Please Don't Make Me Zoom Again (don't read anything into this, Mom)(I have a great visual for this one, with a giant homemade kind of grid onstage, à la Brady Bunch, and nine people all have their faces in the boxes, and while everyone is talking nobody is really saying anything because NO ONE CAN GO ANYWHERE OR DO ANYTHING!)
11. Can I Buy Stock in Alcohol? (Sing this--it really works! You can sing this line SO MANY ways and it's so melodic. I'm thinking of doing an entire verse about AA doing an IPO...)
12. I Wish I Were (this is grammatically correct--I looked it up; subjunctive, baby)(a snarkily melancholy song centering on things we can't do currently but wish we could even though when we actually can do them we really, mostly, don't; you know--"I wish I were in a marathon training group... I wish I were working at the soup kitchen..."
13. Bleach and Light (or this may be called "A Shot of Bleach and a Chaser of Light")
14. Big News! (another sarcastic little ditty framing the mundanities of forced isolation as huge, dramatic events; i.e. Big News! I washed my car today! Big News! I took a nap!) I can actually sing this one in my head already. I have a tune and everything! Big News! I might be good at this...
15. don't know what the title could be (legal reasons) but a riff on Ray Charles' "Georgia On My Mind"; this one will absolutely include reference to Georgia's governor having no idea that coronavirus is highly contagious and might have a nice line of Rockettes in the background, called the WHO Says Dancers...
16. Netflix and Kill Me (a parody take on Netflix and Chill)
I'm still working on all of this. And obviously this world situation continues to unfold daily.
I really think I might have something here.
My apologies to Stephen Sondheim.
Monday, April 27, 2020
Monday, April 20, 2020
Random Observations in the Midst of a Pandemic
Pandemic would be a great band name. Well, I mean, it would have been a great band name. Say it out loud: "Coming to the stage... the one... the only... PANDEMIC!!!" It works. Would have worked. Not so much anymore. But you know. Last year.
We go through a staggering amount of cutlery on a daily basis. I don't actually know if this is pandemic-related or not. But the silverware portion of the dishwasher is ALWAYS full, even if the rest of it is empty. I don't understand this at all. We are not heathens. We use plates and glasses. Why the over-abundance of dirty forks? Someone DM me if you have an answer.
Groundhog Day was, it turns out, a startlingly realistic documentary, not a comedy. If they re-released it I am certain it would win an Oscar.
I very much enjoy playing Solitaire right now (the real kind, with an actual deck of cards) as long as I can play the deal for at least three minutes. When I lose faster than that I end up feeling like it was just a waste of time doing all that shuffling.
FedEx, UPS, USPS drivers are all very happy when you thank them for being out there. If you see them, thank them.
Is time a relevant construct?
On the news last night there seemed to be an indication that a beef/pork shortage is imminent. Which means a chicken shortage will follow. So buckle up everyone (or unbuckle, probably more accurate). Pasta it is.
Will we see masks as part of the outfits on the Paris fashion runways? I feel like we will.
I read a great line in a novel I'm reading. "Reading good books ruins you for enjoying bad books." This is just the truth.
I want to go outside my house tonight at 7pm and cheer for healthcare workers but I think my neighbors would just think I've lost it. Which is not necessarily not true.
If you wandered through my house to try to figure out what I do during the day you'd currently find laying around: my Italian book and study aids, watercolors and a pad of paper, the book I am reading, two decks of cards on the coffee table, a loaf of bread I baked yesterday, Time and The Atlantic on the side table, a stack of greeting cards ready to be sent to friends and family and a stick of butter softening on the counter waiting to be used for I don't-know-what-yet. Also walking shoes by the door.
Since you can't gather and have parties right now, can you get a pony keg during a pandemic? I wonder how long it would take me and Dave to go through a pony keg. Also, Dave doesn't really drink so I wonder how long it would take me to go through a pony keg. I'm not going to go get one, so no worries. Just wondering.
The gin gimlet is frankly just delightful. Regarding alcoholic beverages, I am "Team Lime" all the way.
I am growing some herbs in a pot in the backyard. I planted them over a month ago and they are, I kid you not, STILL ALIVE! I am going to harvest some of the thyme and sage today (just picture me in a pair of overalls out harvesting the crops) and flash-fry it to go on top of whatever I'm making for dinner tonight. Unless we're having hamburgers. That doesn't sound like it pairs well together.
People's gardens/yards look amazing right now. I don't know if people have more time to tend them or if the air is cleaner and things are growing better or if maybe it's just as simple as it's spring and there's new growth in spring but it's beautiful out there.
It's really beautiful out there.
We go through a staggering amount of cutlery on a daily basis. I don't actually know if this is pandemic-related or not. But the silverware portion of the dishwasher is ALWAYS full, even if the rest of it is empty. I don't understand this at all. We are not heathens. We use plates and glasses. Why the over-abundance of dirty forks? Someone DM me if you have an answer.
Groundhog Day was, it turns out, a startlingly realistic documentary, not a comedy. If they re-released it I am certain it would win an Oscar.
I very much enjoy playing Solitaire right now (the real kind, with an actual deck of cards) as long as I can play the deal for at least three minutes. When I lose faster than that I end up feeling like it was just a waste of time doing all that shuffling.
FedEx, UPS, USPS drivers are all very happy when you thank them for being out there. If you see them, thank them.
Is time a relevant construct?
On the news last night there seemed to be an indication that a beef/pork shortage is imminent. Which means a chicken shortage will follow. So buckle up everyone (or unbuckle, probably more accurate). Pasta it is.
Will we see masks as part of the outfits on the Paris fashion runways? I feel like we will.
I read a great line in a novel I'm reading. "Reading good books ruins you for enjoying bad books." This is just the truth.
I want to go outside my house tonight at 7pm and cheer for healthcare workers but I think my neighbors would just think I've lost it. Which is not necessarily not true.
If you wandered through my house to try to figure out what I do during the day you'd currently find laying around: my Italian book and study aids, watercolors and a pad of paper, the book I am reading, two decks of cards on the coffee table, a loaf of bread I baked yesterday, Time and The Atlantic on the side table, a stack of greeting cards ready to be sent to friends and family and a stick of butter softening on the counter waiting to be used for I don't-know-what-yet. Also walking shoes by the door.
Since you can't gather and have parties right now, can you get a pony keg during a pandemic? I wonder how long it would take me and Dave to go through a pony keg. Also, Dave doesn't really drink so I wonder how long it would take me to go through a pony keg. I'm not going to go get one, so no worries. Just wondering.
The gin gimlet is frankly just delightful. Regarding alcoholic beverages, I am "Team Lime" all the way.
I am growing some herbs in a pot in the backyard. I planted them over a month ago and they are, I kid you not, STILL ALIVE! I am going to harvest some of the thyme and sage today (just picture me in a pair of overalls out harvesting the crops) and flash-fry it to go on top of whatever I'm making for dinner tonight. Unless we're having hamburgers. That doesn't sound like it pairs well together.
People's gardens/yards look amazing right now. I don't know if people have more time to tend them or if the air is cleaner and things are growing better or if maybe it's just as simple as it's spring and there's new growth in spring but it's beautiful out there.
It's really beautiful out there.
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Happy Easter!
I'm terribly sorry to continue to harp on this and I swear to you that there are a number of other things that I do think about on a daily basis, but this just keeps happening. And I don't get why.
Last night, when I went to bed, my iPhone weather app said that today, Easter Sunday, was going to be sunny. That was the SOLE emoji used to depict the forecast.
When I woke up this morning, my day of sunshine had been altered to an overcast morning with three hours of sunshine from 1pm-4pm followed by a partly sunny late afternoon.
It is currently 11:30am and my consultation of the app reveals the sunshine has now been narrowed down to a 2pm-4pm window, with the entire rest of the day represented by a giant cloud covering a sun.
It's now 11:33am and the window for sunshine just amended to 3pm-4pm.
Update: It's 1:11pm and the sunshine will now presumably be from 2pm-3pm.
BUT BUT BUT... it's sunny outside RIGHT NOW, at 1:12pm.
THIS IS SO NOT OK! I really, really need someone to explain to me what has happened to the (formerly somewhat accurate) meteorologists because I'm getting concerned that perhaps we've all been "hoaxed" and all the legitimate weather people have been removed and the new replacements in fact got their degrees from Trump University and have been playing a long game and this is all part of a larger plot to make it so that there is literally nothing predictable and therefore anything can potentially be rationalized and justified and before you know it we don't have a postal system anymore.
I fully realize I'm over the edge here. I just need. some. sunshine. (literal sunshine--nothing metaphorical going on here)
Last night, when I went to bed, my iPhone weather app said that today, Easter Sunday, was going to be sunny. That was the SOLE emoji used to depict the forecast.
When I woke up this morning, my day of sunshine had been altered to an overcast morning with three hours of sunshine from 1pm-4pm followed by a partly sunny late afternoon.
It is currently 11:30am and my consultation of the app reveals the sunshine has now been narrowed down to a 2pm-4pm window, with the entire rest of the day represented by a giant cloud covering a sun.
It's now 11:33am and the window for sunshine just amended to 3pm-4pm.
Update: It's 1:11pm and the sunshine will now presumably be from 2pm-3pm.
BUT BUT BUT... it's sunny outside RIGHT NOW, at 1:12pm.
THIS IS SO NOT OK! I really, really need someone to explain to me what has happened to the (formerly somewhat accurate) meteorologists because I'm getting concerned that perhaps we've all been "hoaxed" and all the legitimate weather people have been removed and the new replacements in fact got their degrees from Trump University and have been playing a long game and this is all part of a larger plot to make it so that there is literally nothing predictable and therefore anything can potentially be rationalized and justified and before you know it we don't have a postal system anymore.
I fully realize I'm over the edge here. I just need. some. sunshine. (literal sunshine--nothing metaphorical going on here)
Saturday, April 11, 2020
It's an Easter Miracle
The cinnamon rolls are now out of the oven and I went to gather the ingredients for the icing and my icing recipe requires three cups of powdered sugar! Three cups! I looked at the half-full bag of powdered sugar sitting on the shelf in the pantry and thought, well, huh. If there's not enough sugar then I guess I'll have to make less icing and then ice the cinnamon rolls with less icing and I'm not even really sure what those words strung together even mean. I'm not even really sure we need cinnamon rolls. They are merely the vehicles for the icing, plain and simple.
But.
Guess.
What.
There was EXACTLY three cups of powdered sugar left. Exactly.
Much like having your kids dressed and ready to go somewhere on time just like you've been asked by your wife who now knows you're having an affair because you gave her a Joni Mitchell CD instead of a beautiful necklace, it's aChristmas Easter miracle!
There's a biblical story about a small amount of wine turning into a lot of wine, and it's not like I'm saying the powdered sugar multiplied itself and made possible the icing of massive quantities of cinnamon rolls, but miracles are miracles.
And the sun is shining. So it apparently was not extinguished.
It's been an amazing day.
But.
Guess.
What.
There was EXACTLY three cups of powdered sugar left. Exactly.
Much like having your kids dressed and ready to go somewhere on time just like you've been asked by your wife who now knows you're having an affair because you gave her a Joni Mitchell CD instead of a beautiful necklace, it's a
There's a biblical story about a small amount of wine turning into a lot of wine, and it's not like I'm saying the powdered sugar multiplied itself and made possible the icing of massive quantities of cinnamon rolls, but miracles are miracles.
And the sun is shining. So it apparently was not extinguished.
It's been an amazing day.
Sunshine and Cinnamon Rolls
I put the same outfit on today that I wore two days ago. I may or may not have washed it in between.
The meteorologists who are in charge of the iPhone weather app will be receiving mail from me. It will not be complimentary. I may be charging them for some future therapy that I do as a result of my high expectations for sunshine (brought about by their relentless use of the sun emoji to indicate that there would be days upon days of sunshine) being devastated, again and again, to the point where now, even if the sun is actually shining outside, I'm just not really 100% sure it is.
I'm making cinnamon rolls, as is my Easter tradition. Never have I ever made cinnamon rolls in a pandemic. Nobody's raising their hands on THAT one-- I'm just saying. So because of pandemicacation, I am using self-rising flour and instant yeast, which I have never used either separately or in tandem for this recipe. We'll see what happens! Hopefully even if they look funny they will taste good. If they don't and they are a disaster, I will talk about it in the disastrous-iPhone weather-app funded therapy I'm going to do.
The sun is currently shining. But is it? Is it?
Coffee was so great.
It's already been lunchtime.
What is for dinner?
So tonight we are having chicken piccata with a few pandemic-approved alterations. I have no capers, so those are just being eliminated outright. Not going to risk catching a deadly contagion going to the store for capers. I also have no chardonnay for the finishing sauce. And I'm just not really sure how that happened, to be honest. It's distressing, in general, to be out of chardonnay, don't you think? Never mind for cooking purposes--just for drinking purposes. It shouldn't have happened. But it did. So on top of trying to quell my anguish at not having my favorite wine flavor, I also have to punt with my dinner recipe and make chicken piccata with sauvignon blanc. I mean COME. ON. How much of this madness am I expected to be able to withstand?
The sun is now either behind clouds that were not predicted to be there in the first place or it has been extinguished and I'm not sure which it is. Fifty-fifty shot.
I can smell the cinnamon rolls in the oven. That's a good sign. They smell right, at least.
That's all I really had to say for this post but ending it with the words, "They smell right, at least" seems kind of not right. So I'm going for another haiku instead.
Cinnamon roll...s (you have to extend the word rolls out so it's two syllables)
Made with the wrong kind of flour
I hope they are good
The meteorologists who are in charge of the iPhone weather app will be receiving mail from me. It will not be complimentary. I may be charging them for some future therapy that I do as a result of my high expectations for sunshine (brought about by their relentless use of the sun emoji to indicate that there would be days upon days of sunshine) being devastated, again and again, to the point where now, even if the sun is actually shining outside, I'm just not really 100% sure it is.
I'm making cinnamon rolls, as is my Easter tradition. Never have I ever made cinnamon rolls in a pandemic. Nobody's raising their hands on THAT one-- I'm just saying. So because of pandemicacation, I am using self-rising flour and instant yeast, which I have never used either separately or in tandem for this recipe. We'll see what happens! Hopefully even if they look funny they will taste good. If they don't and they are a disaster, I will talk about it in the disastrous-iPhone weather-app funded therapy I'm going to do.
The sun is currently shining. But is it? Is it?
Coffee was so great.
It's already been lunchtime.
What is for dinner?
So tonight we are having chicken piccata with a few pandemic-approved alterations. I have no capers, so those are just being eliminated outright. Not going to risk catching a deadly contagion going to the store for capers. I also have no chardonnay for the finishing sauce. And I'm just not really sure how that happened, to be honest. It's distressing, in general, to be out of chardonnay, don't you think? Never mind for cooking purposes--just for drinking purposes. It shouldn't have happened. But it did. So on top of trying to quell my anguish at not having my favorite wine flavor, I also have to punt with my dinner recipe and make chicken piccata with sauvignon blanc. I mean COME. ON. How much of this madness am I expected to be able to withstand?
The sun is now either behind clouds that were not predicted to be there in the first place or it has been extinguished and I'm not sure which it is. Fifty-fifty shot.
I can smell the cinnamon rolls in the oven. That's a good sign. They smell right, at least.
That's all I really had to say for this post but ending it with the words, "They smell right, at least" seems kind of not right. So I'm going for another haiku instead.
Cinnamon roll...s (you have to extend the word rolls out so it's two syllables)
Made with the wrong kind of flour
I hope they are good
Thursday, April 9, 2020
I Have No Topic
I'm not really even trying at this point to come up with anything coherent.
Day 3,285 of the pandemic is bringing balls-out, no holds barred ranting.
WTF weather people?! Is this global crisis somehow disabling your doppler radar? Is satellite technology incapacitated right at the time we need something reliably predictable?
It genuinely feels like in the last two weeks the meteorologists' abilities to accurately forecast the weather are conversely proportionate to the amount of Trump's bullshit. Yesterday it was supposed to be 66 degrees and partly cloudy. I got excited. I know 66 degrees isn't summer or anything, but it's decently warm and when you pair it witha nice chardonnay some sunshine it summons you to put out your outdoor patio cushions and put on your flip flops. Both of which I did, god damn it. And then it was only 62. And cloudy. And breezy. WTF weather people?!
And then when I woke up this morning IT HAD RAINED! And before you wonder why that's all in caps, let me just tell you it's all in caps because there was NO RAIN IN THE FORECAST FOR TEN DAYS! So to recap, it was supposed to be warm and it was not supposed to rain and now it's chilly and it rained and my patio cushions are soaking wet and even if it's bright and sunny tomorrow, which it says it's going to be but now my trust has been so shattered that I frankly am not even sure there is such a thing as a meteorological degree or doppler radar, I can't sit outside on my patio furniture because as I said it's wet.
I did take a walk yesterday morning, before it got cold, and may I gently suggest to all of America that if you're going to go out on a walk or a run or anywhere really where you are out in public at all you should not spit. I mean, you shouldn't really do that anyway, ever, but right now, at this particular time, again, WTF?! Who does that? I will tell you who does that. A lady running with her dog down the bike lane of Laguna Park Way, that's who. I do not ever, lady with her dog, want to walk toward the gross splat on the asphalt that is your spit (sorry to use that word again but I did look up alternatives and the alternatives are, frankly, absolutely disgusting and so spit it is, no matter how many times I need to use the word). But currently, in this pandemicky time of silent carriers and aerosolized contagions, I don't want your spit to even come out of your mouth if you are outside of your own home. Nobody does. You should know that. You do know that. Be polite. Be considerate. Be safe. Don't be a knuckle-dragger. Or a lummox. Or a muttonhead. Now I'm just having fun with the online thesaurus. Turns out you canNOT look up synonyms for dick or dickhead. You have to settle for synonyms for jerk. And they are all nicer sounding than any of the synonyms for spit. So there you go.
Supply chains are unpredictable right now (probably went to the same school as the meteorologists). So far we have been able to get what we need, get something pretty close to what we need, make what we have last a ridiculously stupid amount of time by adjusting how we use it, or realize we don't actually need something and give up trying to get it. All good. But I'm just saying when the supply chain for Cheetos grinds to a halt, all hell will break loose. I promise you that.
Is it lunchtime yet? Not yet?
Day 3,285 of the pandemic is bringing balls-out, no holds barred ranting.
WTF weather people?! Is this global crisis somehow disabling your doppler radar? Is satellite technology incapacitated right at the time we need something reliably predictable?
It genuinely feels like in the last two weeks the meteorologists' abilities to accurately forecast the weather are conversely proportionate to the amount of Trump's bullshit. Yesterday it was supposed to be 66 degrees and partly cloudy. I got excited. I know 66 degrees isn't summer or anything, but it's decently warm and when you pair it with
And then when I woke up this morning IT HAD RAINED! And before you wonder why that's all in caps, let me just tell you it's all in caps because there was NO RAIN IN THE FORECAST FOR TEN DAYS! So to recap, it was supposed to be warm and it was not supposed to rain and now it's chilly and it rained and my patio cushions are soaking wet and even if it's bright and sunny tomorrow, which it says it's going to be but now my trust has been so shattered that I frankly am not even sure there is such a thing as a meteorological degree or doppler radar, I can't sit outside on my patio furniture because as I said it's wet.
I did take a walk yesterday morning, before it got cold, and may I gently suggest to all of America that if you're going to go out on a walk or a run or anywhere really where you are out in public at all you should not spit. I mean, you shouldn't really do that anyway, ever, but right now, at this particular time, again, WTF?! Who does that? I will tell you who does that. A lady running with her dog down the bike lane of Laguna Park Way, that's who. I do not ever, lady with her dog, want to walk toward the gross splat on the asphalt that is your spit (sorry to use that word again but I did look up alternatives and the alternatives are, frankly, absolutely disgusting and so spit it is, no matter how many times I need to use the word). But currently, in this pandemicky time of silent carriers and aerosolized contagions, I don't want your spit to even come out of your mouth if you are outside of your own home. Nobody does. You should know that. You do know that. Be polite. Be considerate. Be safe. Don't be a knuckle-dragger. Or a lummox. Or a muttonhead. Now I'm just having fun with the online thesaurus. Turns out you canNOT look up synonyms for dick or dickhead. You have to settle for synonyms for jerk. And they are all nicer sounding than any of the synonyms for spit. So there you go.
Supply chains are unpredictable right now (probably went to the same school as the meteorologists). So far we have been able to get what we need, get something pretty close to what we need, make what we have last a ridiculously stupid amount of time by adjusting how we use it, or realize we don't actually need something and give up trying to get it. All good. But I'm just saying when the supply chain for Cheetos grinds to a halt, all hell will break loose. I promise you that.
Is it lunchtime yet? Not yet?
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
what to do... what to do...
Brace yourselves for another wild ride on the (possibly derailed) rollercoaster of Kim's mind! Freestyling it here. That seems wrong. If you say it out loud, the added g at the end makes it seem formal, which is the opposite result of what I was trying to attain with the use of that word. It probably should be freestylin'. Okay, let's try again.
Brace yourselves for another wild ride on the (so clearly definitely derailed) rollercoaster of Kim's mind! Freestylin' it here.
Much better. Let's move on.
Yesterday I couldn't decide whether to go all in and put on actual pants and a sweater or whether to just go for leggings and a sweatshirt. This, in all likelihood, was going to be my biggest decision of the day, so I wanted to give it proper weighty consideration. The arguments in favor of making the effort to dress in such a way that I could, if needed, leave the house were on the sparse side. Because I pretty much knew I wasn't going to leave the house. Because coronavirus. And it was raining. Hard. So the only reason I might leave the house, to go on a walk, had to be evaluated with the added knowledge that whatever I was wearing would be covered up in a long coat and shielded by an umbrella so not likely to even be seen. Also, sane people don't go walking in the pouring rain so it's not like there would be loads of neighbors out commenting on, or even noticing, my attire (it should be noted here that Dave and I did, in fact, go on a walk in the pouring rain so there goes our sanity defense).
The arguments in favor of leggings and a sweatshirt were myriad. Comfortable. That counts as myriad because comfortable. Don't make me use a thesaurus. Because I will. (I'm noticing how often I am using the word "because" today and I have no accompanying explanation but I will try to find another word so you don't get bored). And then you'll be reading a long list of words that remind you of how important being comfortable is because (damn it!) otherwise there wouldn't be that many words that mean comfortable. And I will be proven right regarding the whole myriad thing. So just trust me on this one.
Against all odds I decided on jeans and a sweater. I can't explain it. I'm not even going to try. It defies logic. The most biggest, most important decision of the day and I probably blew it.
What are you snacking on? Do you find yourself debating what to eat based on the pandemic? I do. I look at certain foods and I mentally play out how frequently I can eat that food before it runs out and then I have to consider how crazy-difficult might it be to replace that food, and also how many days until the next grocery store run. It feels like maybe probability math would come in handy here but that was never my strength. I can, however, calculate on average how many miles I walk a day, and the number is superboredofwalking and a half.
So... what to do... what to do...
I've been practicing Italian on Duolingo (I receive nothing from the company for that mention, by the way) and I have to say that whoever is making up the vocabulary sequencing and the practice sentences over there is either whack a doodle or having a LOT of fun. I can successfully say in Italian, in case it ever comes up in conversation, "There is not a snake in my boot", "The old doctor is not a train conductor" and "If you open the gate the horses will not kill you". I mean, they're all very reassuring things to know, yes. Nobody, I think we can agree, wants a snake in their boot. Which never even occurred to me and now does when I put my boots on so that's a problem where before there was not one. I'm glad the old doctor is not a train conductor because I think being a doctor is probably really hard and when you retire you should not have to find another job. I think also maybe being a doctor is enough, so hopefully the young doctor is not a train conductor, either. I don't know who thinks horses are killer animals but whatever. I'm not a horse fan so if there's a corral full of them I'm never going to open a gate to let them out anyway so I have no worries there. It's probably good that Duolingo does not pay me to mention their program.
I'm going to try to write a book. I have no idea what it's going to be about. In all likelihood I am not going to try to write a book. But you never know. I've heard it said that everyone has one book in them. I just do not think that's true. I think we all might have one decent haiku in us. But I think that may be it for the majority of us.
A general roundup of my thoughts for pretty much every day over the past two weeks:
Coffee is the best.
Is it lunchtime yet? Not yet?
What is for dinner?
Going to end this rambling commentary and go find out if there are any other alarming animals in my footwear.
Brace yourselves for another wild ride on the (so clearly definitely derailed) rollercoaster of Kim's mind! Freestylin' it here.
Much better. Let's move on.
Yesterday I couldn't decide whether to go all in and put on actual pants and a sweater or whether to just go for leggings and a sweatshirt. This, in all likelihood, was going to be my biggest decision of the day, so I wanted to give it proper weighty consideration. The arguments in favor of making the effort to dress in such a way that I could, if needed, leave the house were on the sparse side. Because I pretty much knew I wasn't going to leave the house. Because coronavirus. And it was raining. Hard. So the only reason I might leave the house, to go on a walk, had to be evaluated with the added knowledge that whatever I was wearing would be covered up in a long coat and shielded by an umbrella so not likely to even be seen. Also, sane people don't go walking in the pouring rain so it's not like there would be loads of neighbors out commenting on, or even noticing, my attire (it should be noted here that Dave and I did, in fact, go on a walk in the pouring rain so there goes our sanity defense).
The arguments in favor of leggings and a sweatshirt were myriad. Comfortable. That counts as myriad because comfortable. Don't make me use a thesaurus. Because I will. (I'm noticing how often I am using the word "because" today and I have no accompanying explanation but I will try to find another word so you don't get bored). And then you'll be reading a long list of words that remind you of how important being comfortable is because (damn it!) otherwise there wouldn't be that many words that mean comfortable. And I will be proven right regarding the whole myriad thing. So just trust me on this one.
Against all odds I decided on jeans and a sweater. I can't explain it. I'm not even going to try. It defies logic. The most biggest, most important decision of the day and I probably blew it.
What are you snacking on? Do you find yourself debating what to eat based on the pandemic? I do. I look at certain foods and I mentally play out how frequently I can eat that food before it runs out and then I have to consider how crazy-difficult might it be to replace that food, and also how many days until the next grocery store run. It feels like maybe probability math would come in handy here but that was never my strength. I can, however, calculate on average how many miles I walk a day, and the number is superboredofwalking and a half.
So... what to do... what to do...
I've been practicing Italian on Duolingo (I receive nothing from the company for that mention, by the way) and I have to say that whoever is making up the vocabulary sequencing and the practice sentences over there is either whack a doodle or having a LOT of fun. I can successfully say in Italian, in case it ever comes up in conversation, "There is not a snake in my boot", "The old doctor is not a train conductor" and "If you open the gate the horses will not kill you". I mean, they're all very reassuring things to know, yes. Nobody, I think we can agree, wants a snake in their boot. Which never even occurred to me and now does when I put my boots on so that's a problem where before there was not one. I'm glad the old doctor is not a train conductor because I think being a doctor is probably really hard and when you retire you should not have to find another job. I think also maybe being a doctor is enough, so hopefully the young doctor is not a train conductor, either. I don't know who thinks horses are killer animals but whatever. I'm not a horse fan so if there's a corral full of them I'm never going to open a gate to let them out anyway so I have no worries there. It's probably good that Duolingo does not pay me to mention their program.
I'm going to try to write a book. I have no idea what it's going to be about. In all likelihood I am not going to try to write a book. But you never know. I've heard it said that everyone has one book in them. I just do not think that's true. I think we all might have one decent haiku in us. But I think that may be it for the majority of us.
A general roundup of my thoughts for pretty much every day over the past two weeks:
Coffee is the best.
Is it lunchtime yet? Not yet?
What is for dinner?
Going to end this rambling commentary and go find out if there are any other alarming animals in my footwear.
Thursday, April 2, 2020
Pivot!
I took a long walk this morning along a nature trail that I had no idea existed in Elk Grove. That's not actually 100% true. I did know there was a trail. Somewhere. But I had never taken the time to find out where the trail starts, or what its route is, where it goes, how long it is.
This morning I needed a walk somewhere other than the neighborhood walk I've been taking for what now feels like a gazillion years. The quarantine, the world in general, was crushing in on me. I needed new surroundings.
I found them.
The trail winds along a creek that could be a river in its current state but is probably definitely more of a creek in drier, hotter months. Right now, it's beautiful. I actually stopped early on in my walk to take a picture of some bushes poking out farther down the stream because they were shimmering. The leaves were blowing in the wind and the sun was hitting them so perfectly that they looked like green glitter catching the light. I walked along the path towards the bushes to get a closer look and found that the nearer I got, the less they sparkled. The leaves looked completely different close up--not at all shimmery, but almost like they were dancing in unison. Not less beautiful. Just differently beautiful, still fluttering hypnotically in the breeze.
It made me think about the importance of looking at things from different viewpoints. It's so easy, and maybe human nature, to be comfortable with what we know and what we expect. And while nothing can ever look exactly the same if we change our position and view it from a different angle, a new perspective can sometimes reveal possibilities we never knew existed.
I continued my exploration, absolutely reveling in the briskness of the morning air. It was bracingly cold. But it felt bracingly mind-clearing. Not a cloud in the sky. Got the sun in my eyes. (if you're between 50 and 60 I'm really, really sorry but also, you finished off that verse, didn't you?)
I meandered along, away from the creek, through a kind of meadow (still on the trail--I wasn't tramping through virgin flora). As I walked south, I noticed some bright yellow flowers on the side of the path, all vibrant and upright and fully facing east toward the ascending sun. They had positioned themselves for maximum benefit. I had no doubt that if I returned to the area later in the day, those same flowers would still be vibrant and upright but would be fully facing the west toward the setting sun. Smart.
First of all, great scene. So memorable and so perfectly done.
We don't give Ross nearly enough credit for his wisdom.
As I was looking at those flowers, I thought to myself that nature (like Ross) knows how and when to pivot.
Flowers have figured out how to face the light, even though the light is a moving target. That's a great lesson (face the light--don't go toward the light... that's a whole different thing and I think we all saw Poltergeist).
I know that I need reminding sometimes (often) that I am not stationary. I don't have to just give in to the couch not seeming to fit up the stairs or the quarantine feeling like it's closing in around me. I can change perspectives. I can turn myself toward whatever is throwing off better light.
I can pivot.
This morning I needed a walk somewhere other than the neighborhood walk I've been taking for what now feels like a gazillion years. The quarantine, the world in general, was crushing in on me. I needed new surroundings.
I found them.
The trail winds along a creek that could be a river in its current state but is probably definitely more of a creek in drier, hotter months. Right now, it's beautiful. I actually stopped early on in my walk to take a picture of some bushes poking out farther down the stream because they were shimmering. The leaves were blowing in the wind and the sun was hitting them so perfectly that they looked like green glitter catching the light. I walked along the path towards the bushes to get a closer look and found that the nearer I got, the less they sparkled. The leaves looked completely different close up--not at all shimmery, but almost like they were dancing in unison. Not less beautiful. Just differently beautiful, still fluttering hypnotically in the breeze.
It made me think about the importance of looking at things from different viewpoints. It's so easy, and maybe human nature, to be comfortable with what we know and what we expect. And while nothing can ever look exactly the same if we change our position and view it from a different angle, a new perspective can sometimes reveal possibilities we never knew existed.
I continued my exploration, absolutely reveling in the briskness of the morning air. It was bracingly cold. But it felt bracingly mind-clearing. Not a cloud in the sky. Got the sun in my eyes. (if you're between 50 and 60 I'm really, really sorry but also, you finished off that verse, didn't you?)
I meandered along, away from the creek, through a kind of meadow (still on the trail--I wasn't tramping through virgin flora). As I walked south, I noticed some bright yellow flowers on the side of the path, all vibrant and upright and fully facing east toward the ascending sun. They had positioned themselves for maximum benefit. I had no doubt that if I returned to the area later in the day, those same flowers would still be vibrant and upright but would be fully facing the west toward the setting sun. Smart.
First of all, great scene. So memorable and so perfectly done.
We don't give Ross nearly enough credit for his wisdom.
As I was looking at those flowers, I thought to myself that nature (like Ross) knows how and when to pivot.
Flowers have figured out how to face the light, even though the light is a moving target. That's a great lesson (face the light--don't go toward the light... that's a whole different thing and I think we all saw Poltergeist).
I know that I need reminding sometimes (often) that I am not stationary. I don't have to just give in to the couch not seeming to fit up the stairs or the quarantine feeling like it's closing in around me. I can change perspectives. I can turn myself toward whatever is throwing off better light.
I can pivot.
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
!!!!!!! (retroactive)
I know professional writers are often asked to give advice to aspiring writers, and what the professionals seem to say is that if you want to be a writer, you have to write. A lot. Every day. Even when you don't necessarily think you have anything to say. Just write anyway. Schedule it into your day and buckle-the-fuck down and as the sage Greek god Nike once shouted from atop Mt. Olympus, Just Do It!
So here I am. Just doin' it. This is not going to be pretty. I have no particular topic on which I am unusually inspired to produce. It's just stream-of-consciousness going on here, so don't expect much. You should maybe get yourself a nice cocktail and a comfy chair and make up a drinking game to play as you read. Drink every time she begins a sentence with "And". Drink every time there's an incomplete sentence. Dangling modifiers--drink! Drink at every exclamation point!!!!!!!!
So just sitting here staring at a largely blank screen page is what I'm doing. Waiting for that inspiration to come. I have cookies in the oven right now, so at least it smells nice as I'm writing. That sounded a bit crass. Let me rephrase. My kitchen is fragrant with almonds and lemon as I type. There we go. Better.
This quarantine situation is challenging (said Captain Obvious).
All the things that typically are my jam (I will address why a 53 year old woman should never use that phrase at a later time, but just go with it for now) are currently unavailable. I'd like to go to Italy. That's clearly not happening. I'd like to just travel ANYWHERE. Nope, not that either. I would also like to go do some classroom presentations and tours at the museum where I docent. But I cannot, as it is currently closed for the foreseeable future. Hang out at the local coffee shop, write and drink cappuccino? No, no and no. Perhaps go to a fun restaurant? Perhaps no. A drink with friends? Nein.
Ok, you should be quite a few drinks in by now! (Drink!)
Subject change.
Have you ever played the game "This or That"? You can play it anywhere with anyone at any time. We started a rousing game of it at a dinner party last month (remember when we used to be able to have dinner parties?) and it was a HOOT, as anyone from any generation older than mine might say. You just present two options. Someone chooses which they prefer and then they get to make up two options to present to the next person.
For example: beer or wine? chocolate or vanilla? text or phone call?
I will warn you that if you play this at a fondue party where the wine is flowing and everyone is really comfortable with one another this game can radically change direction really quickly and get painfully awkward. I mean, that's what I hear.
Anyway. Next topic, please. Right?
What do you call it when you're reading a really great book and you simultaneously want to get to the end because it's just so compelling that you cannot stop but also you absolutely do not want the book to end because it's just so entrancing. Is there a word for that? There should be. Let's all work on it. We have time. We can do this! We are all in this (alone) together! Please send your suggestions for this very particular state-of-being to my email. I will announce a winner at some point. There may be a prize that will in all likelihood not be worthy of the very tiny amount of effort you exerted trying to win the prize. But still. Prizes are fun.
Let's talk about chicks, man. 'Cause it's almost Easter and you know what that means-- Peeps. Marshmallow concoctions vaguely shaped like baby chickens in varying pastel hues. I mean, if that doesn't respectfully contribute to the joyful celebration of the death of a major religious figure I don't know what would.
Moving on. Because blasphemy! (Drink!)
Wind or Snow? Cookies or candy? Barefoot or flip-flops? Lin-Manuel or Andrew Lloyd?
What are the odds that the two most genius-y modern-day writers in musical theater would both be known by their first AND middle names? Seems highly unlikely. I don't really understand how odds are determined, but I'd be interested in finding out the actual numbers on that one.
Ok I'm going to stop at this point. I've been writing and writing and while I'm amusing myself (I actually made myself laugh out loud at one point) and I'm having fun, I'm not actually inspiring myself to anything greater, which was supposed to be the purpose.
But who knows. Maybe I'll re-read this and find some little gem that catalyzes my creativity.
Peeps or fondue?
So just sitting here staring at a largely blank screen page is what I'm doing. Waiting for that inspiration to come. I have cookies in the oven right now, so at least it smells nice as I'm writing. That sounded a bit crass. Let me rephrase. My kitchen is fragrant with almonds and lemon as I type. There we go. Better.
This quarantine situation is challenging (said Captain Obvious).
All the things that typically are my jam (I will address why a 53 year old woman should never use that phrase at a later time, but just go with it for now) are currently unavailable. I'd like to go to Italy. That's clearly not happening. I'd like to just travel ANYWHERE. Nope, not that either. I would also like to go do some classroom presentations and tours at the museum where I docent. But I cannot, as it is currently closed for the foreseeable future. Hang out at the local coffee shop, write and drink cappuccino? No, no and no. Perhaps go to a fun restaurant? Perhaps no. A drink with friends? Nein.
Ok, you should be quite a few drinks in by now! (Drink!)
Subject change.
Have you ever played the game "This or That"? You can play it anywhere with anyone at any time. We started a rousing game of it at a dinner party last month (remember when we used to be able to have dinner parties?) and it was a HOOT, as anyone from any generation older than mine might say. You just present two options. Someone chooses which they prefer and then they get to make up two options to present to the next person.
For example: beer or wine? chocolate or vanilla? text or phone call?
I will warn you that if you play this at a fondue party where the wine is flowing and everyone is really comfortable with one another this game can radically change direction really quickly and get painfully awkward. I mean, that's what I hear.
Anyway. Next topic, please. Right?
What do you call it when you're reading a really great book and you simultaneously want to get to the end because it's just so compelling that you cannot stop but also you absolutely do not want the book to end because it's just so entrancing. Is there a word for that? There should be. Let's all work on it. We have time. We can do this! We are all in this (alone) together! Please send your suggestions for this very particular state-of-being to my email. I will announce a winner at some point. There may be a prize that will in all likelihood not be worthy of the very tiny amount of effort you exerted trying to win the prize. But still. Prizes are fun.
Let's talk about chicks, man. 'Cause it's almost Easter and you know what that means-- Peeps. Marshmallow concoctions vaguely shaped like baby chickens in varying pastel hues. I mean, if that doesn't respectfully contribute to the joyful celebration of the death of a major religious figure I don't know what would.
Moving on. Because blasphemy! (Drink!)
Wind or Snow? Cookies or candy? Barefoot or flip-flops? Lin-Manuel or Andrew Lloyd?
What are the odds that the two most genius-y modern-day writers in musical theater would both be known by their first AND middle names? Seems highly unlikely. I don't really understand how odds are determined, but I'd be interested in finding out the actual numbers on that one.
Ok I'm going to stop at this point. I've been writing and writing and while I'm amusing myself (I actually made myself laugh out loud at one point) and I'm having fun, I'm not actually inspiring myself to anything greater, which was supposed to be the purpose.
But who knows. Maybe I'll re-read this and find some little gem that catalyzes my creativity.
Peeps or fondue?
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