Major Adulthood Update

Good Old Riva came to town after a year apart. I fell ill for the second time this winter, but we dragged ourselves to the neighborhood pub, Boulevard Tavern, which happens to be almost overly dog-friendly. Nukah didn't want to go home. When we left, the owner/bartender yelled after Nukah, "Goodbye, new assistant!" Hopefully this won't require an intervention.


And Major Adulthood Update: Joseph and I are officially couch owners. We have experienced the non-creepy, seemingly straightforward side of craigslist. And somehow this isn't too good to be true.

Films to Be Filed Under Must See: True Grit and Another Year

Puppy bliss

Nukah and I are staying at Riva's parents' home for the next couple of weeks.


I can't think of a more heavenly place to be a dog.


Charlie is still figuring out Nukah.

I associate Riva's home with sleep. It's almost impossible to be stressed when I'm there.

hodgepodge

I'm mourning the end of my glorious break, filled with big city adventures, familiar faces, art museums, cinema saturation, and puppy excursions. Summer, hurry up!

I promised Riva that I wouldn't dress Nukah in ridiculous outfits. Joe and I decided that this sweater, which was on sale at a dog store in the city, did not count as "ridiculous." Maybe Riva disagrees? This evening I put Nukah in the sweater for a fashion shoot and he peed all over my bed while he was wearing it. I guess he thinks it's ridiculous, too.

At times, Joseph can be a bit forgetful. For once, this is working in my favor because he left his wallet upstate this morning and traveled back to the city without it. This means I get to see him again tonight.

While visiting the Biennial at Whitney, I developed a new career idea. I'd like to write curriculum for an independent study project for high school seniors, an alternative to attending school. This would be a program specific to New York, where students met with a leader/mentor/teacher each day at museums, galleries, art studios, and visited with artists, curators, and museum educators. The students would learn math, science, and English through an artistic lens and the academics would be specific to which exhibitions and artists were available. Each parent and student would receive a big binder of lesson plans and homework assignments, so that they could follow along at home. I envision that this program would be like a magnet school, where students apply and based on their ability to be self-motivated, driven by learning, and passionate about the arts, they would be accepted. This project would take an enormous amount of financial backing and time to launch, but I imagine that I could really be invested in working on this.

I found a "Wonderfalls" treasure in my childhood bedroom; so far, the lion hasn't started speaking to me.

Mahandra: So if you act like that little wax lion doesn't have a soul, then that little wax lion gets revenge when you start freaking out and thinking it's talking to you.


Jaye: Was that supposed to mean something? Is it a metaphor? Are you Satan? Are you God? Ok, if you don't say something in the next five seconds I'm going to assume you're Satan.


Mahandra: Like when Indians say that everything has a soul. The wind, your cellphone, the little smooshed-faced lion. They all have souls.

Have I mentioned that I have a new puppy?

I've promised myself that I won't become that blogger, who writes endlessly about her puppy and posts pictures of her dog in each and every adorable pose. I've promised Riva that I won't dress up Nukah in stupid outfits. I think I still am allowed a few more days of obnoxious canine posts before I need to reign it in.

(While typing this, Nukah woke up and rolled off my bed and onto the floor. He quickly recovered. He's so deliciously clumsy!)

Winter break ended today, and after I had finished teaching for the day, I picked up Nukah from home and brought him to school to meet the students. He was so excited to meet (and smell) everyone and everything. By the time I drove him home, he was ready for bed.


Before


After

Cornelius, you always walked a step behind.

Today Riva and I took Cornelius to the vet. She is suffering from kidney failure. On Saturday I will probably have to go back to the hospital to put her to sleep. Here are some pictures from her early years in San Francisco.

You're the one for me, Fatty.

the lengths we'll go

After suffering through two horrible movies, Nine and The Private Lives of Pippa Lee, we finally chose a winner: Up in the Air is surprisingly intelligent and engaging. Now we're kind of trapped because there's little chance that for the rest of the week, we will see a better or comparable film in the upstate area.

It's probably best that we take a sabbatical from the cinema as I have been subsisting on popcorn, candy, and soda for most of this winter break.

In other news, Riva and I are back to our old mini-rebellions. Yesterday we stopped by a hotel where my parents stayed when they came to visit. I was in need of caffeine and remembered their coffee and hot cocoa bar in the lobby. We waltzed in, greeted the man behind the counter, poured coffee and hot cocoa for ourselves, and waited for the right moment to bolt. Two young fellows, who looked much more dangerous than we did were exiting the hotel, so we rushed to catch up to them and followed them out into the parking lot. Hot drinks in hand, when we got into the car, Riva said she wanted to go back to the hotel again the following day.

These activities reassure us of our youthfulness.

Save yourself!

As promised, I joined Riva's family plus Georgette and Tom for sushi and a movie. The sushi was delicious and the company was lovely, but it all went downhill at the theater. I am ashamed to say that we saw Nine, and I feel that it is my duty to spread the good word that this wreck-of-a-movie will cost you 110 minutes of your life. Consider this my community service of the week. Believe me, you don't want to go near this one.

Ew, Christmas

I arrived back upstate last night after having the money drained out of my pockets in the city. While I was away, the pipes in my cottage froze and one of them burst. Apparently, I have to use all of my savings not just to live in the city but also to live through winter in the country.

A nice plumber finally showed up today to repair the damage. We talked for a long time about literature, insulation, and our life stories. He was very generous and sympathetic.

After he left, I read more of Moby-Dick and Alice Munro's new book. Then I fell into a trance/nap/coma with my cat. Before I could recover, Riva was knocking on my cottage door. She hauled me out of the house to "enjoy" another local tradition.

Every "holiday" season, the town gathers for caroling, free hot cider, something related to stockings, and Santa's big entrance. Having just woken up, I wasn't totally prepared for the immensity of this event. I ran into my students and Riva's high school friends. It was hard to plaster on my "social" game face after a day of dealing with my disdain for costly winters, landlords, Christmas, Christians, and country life in general.

Tomorrow I will continue my favorite Christmas tradition of watching movies and trying to avoid having to fake holiday joy.

Until then, I will lose myself in my imagined life as a whaler: "...but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him.... And perhaps, at mid-day, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!"

Hippie Birthday, Rivka!

Riva = 30 years on Planet Earth


Joseph realized his dream in Phoenicia.


That's when we began the spoon-themed birthday celebration.


Mahalia was our spoon-nosed guru.


Everybody fell into line.


Riva, spoon, jazz hands.


Then we drove back to Shokan for birthday party prep.


Gaela's perfect cake and cupcakes.


Joe and I gave Riva an ice cream maker plus accoutrements for the big thirty.


Served, dinner.


Beautiful Merle, my Aikido soulmate with beautiful Riva, my ice cream soulmate.












And then the spooning began again.




Pooped.


Joe and I baked challah,


and made challah French toast for breakfast.




With the help of the adults, Eden made mixed-berry muffins.


Still waking up.




Happy birthday to my Best Friend, Riva. I love you profusely/wildly/unabashedly/blazingly/blatantly/verbatimly/literally/sans hyperbole.

15 Things About Today (in a less-than-particular order)

1. I had black-poodle-envy in Cambridge.

2. Farrah Fawcett died.

3. I tickled Brian Bouldrey's neck at Lesley.

4. I made peace over facebook.

5. Kimberley drank blueberry juice.

6. Valerie and I unintentionally wore almost the same outfit to the Camera Obscura concert.

7. A Claude Cahun book was found and purchased... USED!

8. Riva taught me that according to PBS, a person remembers more when they hear something in their right ear instead of their left.

9. Michael Jackson died.

10. Abbey sent me the most genius text ever (re: Michael Jackson): "I'll hold ya like the River Jordan."

11. A canvasser told Riva and I that we look like nice people; we adamantly disagreed.

12. I've come up with my new favorite ice-breaker: If you were stranded on a desert island, which personal issue would you take with you?

13. I decided to take my long-chin-insecurity with me to the desert island. I'd abandon my insomnia and anxiety in a flash.

14. I forgot and then remembered all four names of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants' characters.

15. I could only come up with 14 things about today, not including this one.