Sunday Fun
May. 17th, 2010 12:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arrowwhiskersIn spite of not really meshing with any of my plans for it, today ended up being a really great day. :) So this is going to be a "today I did..." kind of entry, and is probably really boring and ho-hum for anyone but me, but y'know.
It started when I woke up, around 1PM, and found the iced coffee that my dad had gotten for me from Starbucks that morning. It's actually kind of silly that he still does it, an old tradition that I think started in my year off and still sometimes carries over into when I'm visiting home. And it makes me feel loved, even when I wake up late and the ice is mostly melted, and the coffee is kind of icky, lol.
I had planned to try to go for a jog, a habit I've been trying to get into for the past year or so and have never actually succeeded. Of course, I couldn't find the motivation, and instead went with my mom to the Danish pastry house, followed by the garden shop nearby our house. Mom wanted me to help her pick out flowers and we got some pansies, geraniums, and petunias. They're all really pretty. <3 Then, on a whim, when I got home, I asked if I could help mom put some of them in. And it turned out to be really fun!
I used to actually participate in a lot of gardening back when my family lived in our old apartment complex, so long ago now that it feels like a different lifetime. My mom was part of the complex's "gardening club", and especially back when I was 4 or 5 and not old enough to be in school full time, I would help her and the other apartment women to plant bright-colored flowers in little artificial mulch plots, trying to add the slightest bit of life to what would otherwise be a bleak sea of tar and painted lines. So today when my mom told me how to mix the soil, and when and how much to water, and how to position the plants, it felt like she was reminding me of things I used to know. And it made me really happy. :) I really want to get more involved in helping my mom manage her garden, because she has such a wealth of information and I feel like I have neglected to take advantage of it for quite a long time. I think this is a recurring theme in my young adult life--realizing with some shock and horror that my mom knows tons of useful things that I just simply never took it upon myself to learn. Like, for instance, knitting and sewing and crocheting, and, in a slightly different grain, how to take care of plants.
I think that this is one of my goals for a post-graduation life: to keep a garden box in the balcony or patio of an apartment, or to participate and grow some things in a shared municipal garden. And helping my mom to plant flowers, if not nearly that level of commitment, is definitely a nice place to start. And our garden has pansies now! :)
After putting all the flowers in, I had to shower quickly and race off to Inman Square, where I was to see a performance of Phone Whore with Ellie and Sofía. It turns out I got utterly lost (Google maps completely misguided me...!) and I had to run about a mile from near Mass Ave to where the actual performance was held in order to not be late. Turns out that I got my jogging in today after all! Haha. And the show was actually a really amazing performance, a monologue about a phone sex operator describing the nature and annoyances of her work. It had the overall theme of non-judgment, and of the easing of taboo when it doesn't hurt anyone, because who, after all, should be judged for their thoughts? Or their fantasies? Apparently the writer and star of the show actually is a real-life phone sex operator, and she wrote the script based upon actual phone calls that she takes and aggravations and reflections she has experienced and had over her job. It was. Really cool.
I decided to walk down from the venue to Harvard Square to catch the bus, and on the way, I saw something really incredible. There was a young girl, probably around my age, walking down the street in front of me. It was around dusk, and the sky was varying shades of dark blue tinged with yellow. We were passing by a bunch of small businesses and one was a convenience store type with a bench in front. There was a very large, grizly, almost homeless (though I don't think he actually was) looking old man with wiry gray hair and a granny push-cart sitting there on the bench. As the girl approached, he made signs of recognition, and she said, "I got it for you!!" I noticed that she had a book in her hand, and so did he. As I walked by, they were exchanging the books, and she was asking, "did you finish it?". I didn't really hear the rest of the conversation, but I do remember his good-natured laughter and realizing, through my cursory glance, that he was giving her (returning?) the first Harry Potter book, and that she was giving him the second. It was such a random-seeming transaction, and oh my god, it was amazing. I continued walking with the hugest grin on my face, I'm glad that nobody could see it. xD;
Cambridge Street then abruptly transformed into the Harvard Campus (I could tell it was Harvard because of the style of the buildings and the steeples and the lighting), and I realized that I must be extremely close to familiar places, but at the time I had absolutely no idea where I was. It was strange, realizing how very little-to-nothing I know about the actual Harvard Campus. I just kind of kept walking, vaguely confused and aimless, until all of a sudden, BAM I was on Mass Ave. Score! Except then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw what I was pretty sure was a 77, and I was nowhere near a bus stop. I ended up making a major dash for it (getting in yet more unforeseen running, w00t), only to arrive at the stop and realize that a bus was not, in fact, following. Apparently it wasn't a 77 after all.
I did manage to get home regardless, however, and my aunt Janet, down from Portland, was already there. We were joined by several other relatives for Thai food, and I made a big plate of guacamole. After dinner, my uncle Richard, who is a professional painter in LA (here in Boston because of a gallery show this weekend) and a certified hair stylist, gave my bangs a trim. Which is AWESOME because I'd been wanting them cut but had not had the heart to pay someone to do it. They're not as short as I would have liked (such that I wouldn't have to worry about getting them cut again soon), but he tends to have the philosophy of making someone look good NOW, being satisfied with the cut how it is. So, my bangs look really cute, tonight. Which is a good thing, I guess. :)
Afterwards, I showed him my sketchbook from Guatemala, just because I had been gushing at him about my experience and thought, as an artist, he'd appreciate the visual representations. He surprised me, telling me that he thought that I had a lot of talent and that I should try working with materials that will have a better response. He told me to try charcoal or conté pencils and more tough drawing paper or bristol board. I had never even really considered using really fancy materials before, but he was so insistent that his enthusiasm really made an impression on me and I want to try it out. :) Maybe at some point when I have some money that isn't earmarked for something (ha. ha. sure this will happen..) I'll buy some nice drawing paper. Yay plans..
I really don't want to go to bed, with today having been so awesome and the new work week rearing its head in front of me. But, I'm excited for time to be passing, because next weekend Wen is graduating, and I haven't seen her, or visited Amherst, in quite awhile.
Yay for really great days. :)
It started when I woke up, around 1PM, and found the iced coffee that my dad had gotten for me from Starbucks that morning. It's actually kind of silly that he still does it, an old tradition that I think started in my year off and still sometimes carries over into when I'm visiting home. And it makes me feel loved, even when I wake up late and the ice is mostly melted, and the coffee is kind of icky, lol.
I had planned to try to go for a jog, a habit I've been trying to get into for the past year or so and have never actually succeeded. Of course, I couldn't find the motivation, and instead went with my mom to the Danish pastry house, followed by the garden shop nearby our house. Mom wanted me to help her pick out flowers and we got some pansies, geraniums, and petunias. They're all really pretty. <3 Then, on a whim, when I got home, I asked if I could help mom put some of them in. And it turned out to be really fun!
I used to actually participate in a lot of gardening back when my family lived in our old apartment complex, so long ago now that it feels like a different lifetime. My mom was part of the complex's "gardening club", and especially back when I was 4 or 5 and not old enough to be in school full time, I would help her and the other apartment women to plant bright-colored flowers in little artificial mulch plots, trying to add the slightest bit of life to what would otherwise be a bleak sea of tar and painted lines. So today when my mom told me how to mix the soil, and when and how much to water, and how to position the plants, it felt like she was reminding me of things I used to know. And it made me really happy. :) I really want to get more involved in helping my mom manage her garden, because she has such a wealth of information and I feel like I have neglected to take advantage of it for quite a long time. I think this is a recurring theme in my young adult life--realizing with some shock and horror that my mom knows tons of useful things that I just simply never took it upon myself to learn. Like, for instance, knitting and sewing and crocheting, and, in a slightly different grain, how to take care of plants.
I think that this is one of my goals for a post-graduation life: to keep a garden box in the balcony or patio of an apartment, or to participate and grow some things in a shared municipal garden. And helping my mom to plant flowers, if not nearly that level of commitment, is definitely a nice place to start. And our garden has pansies now! :)
After putting all the flowers in, I had to shower quickly and race off to Inman Square, where I was to see a performance of Phone Whore with Ellie and Sofía. It turns out I got utterly lost (Google maps completely misguided me...!) and I had to run about a mile from near Mass Ave to where the actual performance was held in order to not be late. Turns out that I got my jogging in today after all! Haha. And the show was actually a really amazing performance, a monologue about a phone sex operator describing the nature and annoyances of her work. It had the overall theme of non-judgment, and of the easing of taboo when it doesn't hurt anyone, because who, after all, should be judged for their thoughts? Or their fantasies? Apparently the writer and star of the show actually is a real-life phone sex operator, and she wrote the script based upon actual phone calls that she takes and aggravations and reflections she has experienced and had over her job. It was. Really cool.
I decided to walk down from the venue to Harvard Square to catch the bus, and on the way, I saw something really incredible. There was a young girl, probably around my age, walking down the street in front of me. It was around dusk, and the sky was varying shades of dark blue tinged with yellow. We were passing by a bunch of small businesses and one was a convenience store type with a bench in front. There was a very large, grizly, almost homeless (though I don't think he actually was) looking old man with wiry gray hair and a granny push-cart sitting there on the bench. As the girl approached, he made signs of recognition, and she said, "I got it for you!!" I noticed that she had a book in her hand, and so did he. As I walked by, they were exchanging the books, and she was asking, "did you finish it?". I didn't really hear the rest of the conversation, but I do remember his good-natured laughter and realizing, through my cursory glance, that he was giving her (returning?) the first Harry Potter book, and that she was giving him the second. It was such a random-seeming transaction, and oh my god, it was amazing. I continued walking with the hugest grin on my face, I'm glad that nobody could see it. xD;
Cambridge Street then abruptly transformed into the Harvard Campus (I could tell it was Harvard because of the style of the buildings and the steeples and the lighting), and I realized that I must be extremely close to familiar places, but at the time I had absolutely no idea where I was. It was strange, realizing how very little-to-nothing I know about the actual Harvard Campus. I just kind of kept walking, vaguely confused and aimless, until all of a sudden, BAM I was on Mass Ave. Score! Except then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw what I was pretty sure was a 77, and I was nowhere near a bus stop. I ended up making a major dash for it (getting in yet more unforeseen running, w00t), only to arrive at the stop and realize that a bus was not, in fact, following. Apparently it wasn't a 77 after all.
I did manage to get home regardless, however, and my aunt Janet, down from Portland, was already there. We were joined by several other relatives for Thai food, and I made a big plate of guacamole. After dinner, my uncle Richard, who is a professional painter in LA (here in Boston because of a gallery show this weekend) and a certified hair stylist, gave my bangs a trim. Which is AWESOME because I'd been wanting them cut but had not had the heart to pay someone to do it. They're not as short as I would have liked (such that I wouldn't have to worry about getting them cut again soon), but he tends to have the philosophy of making someone look good NOW, being satisfied with the cut how it is. So, my bangs look really cute, tonight. Which is a good thing, I guess. :)
Afterwards, I showed him my sketchbook from Guatemala, just because I had been gushing at him about my experience and thought, as an artist, he'd appreciate the visual representations. He surprised me, telling me that he thought that I had a lot of talent and that I should try working with materials that will have a better response. He told me to try charcoal or conté pencils and more tough drawing paper or bristol board. I had never even really considered using really fancy materials before, but he was so insistent that his enthusiasm really made an impression on me and I want to try it out. :) Maybe at some point when I have some money that isn't earmarked for something (ha. ha. sure this will happen..) I'll buy some nice drawing paper. Yay plans..
I really don't want to go to bed, with today having been so awesome and the new work week rearing its head in front of me. But, I'm excited for time to be passing, because next weekend Wen is graduating, and I haven't seen her, or visited Amherst, in quite awhile.
Yay for really great days. :)
