Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I have done my two days and been sent home without being picked for a jury. Given that I spent most of the time worrying that I would be on a jury for a case that was supposed to go well into July, this is definitely a good thing.

( long, includes food and wandering )

That was a pleasant surprise.

L arranged dim sum today, because marykaykare is visiting New York for a few days. cattitude and I got to Jing Fong slightly after the stated time (I'd woken him a bit after nine, which seemed the best tradeoff between letting him sleep and him having time for a shower and coffee and such), and were riding up the escalator, discussing how many we were going to be and the odds that L was already there. And the person in front of us turned around and said something like "I know you." I admitted to not recognizing her, which turned out to be a combination of a mostly-online friendship and context failure: it was a surprise sneerpout, who as far as I had known was in Geneva. (She's in New York very briefly, and hadn't planned to tell anyone, but when Mary Kay posted about visiting, Sneerpout contacted her, and MK invited her to dim sum.) We settled on telling the restaurant we were a party of six, and nibbled on nice things like bacon-wrapped shrimp. We found Mary Kay about ten minutes later: she had arrived early and waited downstairs, where we managed not to spot her, or vice versa, because I wasn't looking for our people downstairs. L showed up a while after that, and said something about having lain down for just a moment next to the cat, and "That trick never works." Which indeed it doesn't. So, plenty of nice food, though we had to flag a waitress and order the sticky rice in lotus leaf that I wanted, and conversation.

A bit after 1:00, we paid our bill, walked past crowds waiting in the downstairs lobby, and proceeded west on Canal Street. Cattitude and I found the last vendor in the world who sells the pony tail holders we like, and got many: he counted what we had selected, and urged us to get another five because they were ten for a dollar. (This includes some bright blue, of which a few will go to papersky, and quite a few forest green, plus the odd magenta, white, and chartreuse.) A grocery on Canal Street supplied the Szechuan peppercorns Cattitude has been wanting to get, and powdered miso for Sneerpout, who says it's not available in Geneva. After that, we explored Pearl Paint, which had been the main goal of the post-dim sum part of the plan. Mostly, I watched Mary Kay, and to some extent Cattitude and Sneerpout, spot things they needed, wanted, or were amused by. (I don't need to explore Pearl Paint, and spent a bunch of time saying things like "I already have a bunch of those" and "I'm not using the glittery pens I have now, I don't need more.") Eventually, Sneerpout was worn out, and went in search of a cold drink while Mary Kay finished exploring. We rendezvous'd at a Starbucks, and drank assorted (mostly chilled) caffeinated drinks, and talked, a while longer, enjoying seats and air conditioning.

Cattitude and I headed home from there, because I didn't have the energy for much more, especially if it involved significant walking.

I went to my regular Chinese restaurant for lunch today. I was eating my soup when they seated another woman at the far side of the round table I was at. She recognized me and remembered a previous conversation: she asked "what's that you always order?" I told her about the duck, which I had in fact ordered for that meal, and she said it wasn't that, it was noodles. I did my best to get the name across, but after a minute's confusion (in the noisy restaurant) she said "You order forme." Then the waiter came over and this woman said "She'll order for me" and pointed. So I said "She'll have the rice cake with shrimp." She seemed a little startled when it actually arrived, but picked up a noodle with her chopsticks and proceeded to enjoy herself, as far as I could tell.

I didn't realize I had that much of an aura of competence. I am competent at a variety of things, but knowing what a stranger wants to eat isn't one of them.

I went to my usual Chinatown place for lunch today. They put me at a table where a couple were already eating. [When people go there alone, the restaurant seats them at shared tables, usually large round ones that hold 6 or 8 customers; two people together at one of those tables suggests the place had been very busy when they arrived.] I sat down, poured myself tea, and ordered a big bowl of soup. Then another woman was seated at our table, and said something vaguely apologetic about sharing our table. I assured her "that's how they do it here," and that led to me chatting with her, and then to a cheerful four-person conversation, which included the couple's plans to move to Bangalore this fall (from Richmond, Virginia; they were in New York doing a few days of tourist stuff), and the other woman's child custody hearing this afternoon, which is why she was in Chinatown. So, India, exchange rates, the value of email for long-distance relationships (their 14-year-old son has a girlfriend he's not looking forward to leaving), the tendency of courts to make her nervous regardless of why she was walking into them, and some of the backstory of the custody hearing. (One-sided, of course, but if what she told me matches what the court has found, I think she'll win: she said her ex had put the kids in foster care, and she wants to get them back and take them home to London. All I know for sure is that she's angry at her ex—understandably, from her story—and wasn't obviously mad or antisocial.)

The odd bit was that she told me that I had an Irish accent and asked where I was from. rysmiel, papersky, I expect you are as startled by this as I am, though I did mention that I'd just been visiting an Irish friend and I might thus have picked up a little of the accent. That question/guess would have puzzled me from anyone, more from a woman who also said she was half-Irish (and half African) and has been living in London, not the US. She also commented on how healthy my lunch looked, because of the greens in the soup; one of the advantages, for me, of Chinese food is that I'm more likely to eat vegetables when I'm eating in that idiom than in most others.

The Virginians said goodbye with a promise to pray that she'd get custody. She and I talked a little longer, and after asking what I do, told me I must be a genius. I demurred, saying that what I am is a generalist, with a sticky memory that will go "that looks wrong" and check on things.

Conveniently for me, one of the branches of my gym that's open today is the one I usually go to; this is convenient because I know my way around there, and can get to it straightforwardly. On the way to the subway, I got cattitude to walk with me up West 217th Street, to Park Terrace East, and around the top of Isham Park. He posted the Christmas flower survey from that walk. We also saw and heard a few cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis, the source of my username), which are a delight but, unlike periwinkles and honeysuckle, not an anomaly at any time of year.

The workout was satisfying. I'm used to seeing a lot of the same people at the gym (because I tend to go at the same times of day and days of the week). Today, there were about the same number of people, but the only one who looked familiar was the trainer who stopped to chat for a moment; I'd guess the others normally work out elsewhere.

I had lunch in Chinatown partly from habit, and partly because I was confident that things would be open there. My usual place was open, so I didn't need to find a different restaurant to supply my roast duck (though plenty were available). After eating, I wandered east and north, and bought ginger, scallions, and broccoli along the way. I keep looking at kumquats on the stands and realizing I have no idea of what I'd cook with them.

On the same "I know it will be open" principle, I stopped off in Washington Heights for a loaf of seeded rye bread and (why not?) some chocolate chip meringues. Having gotten off the train at 181st, I decided to get back on at 190th. When I got to the subway entrance, which is right next to Fort Tryon Park, I remembered the nearby garden and decided to walk a little more.

Most of what's in bloom in the Heather Garden is varieties of heather. Stalks of purple and white flowers, low to the ground, under a gray sky. Most, but not all: an exuberant magenta rhododendron branch caught my eye almost as soon as I walked in. A bit further along are some fine purple berries, and then a bush with cream-colored flowers, fairly simple (a shallow bowl formed by a circle of five or so petals). I also saw a few small flowers other than the heather, mostly purple; the startling ones were long and skinny, looking barely open, at the top of red-leafed plants.

( gym numbers, for the record )

I spent some time working on squats, and related exercises for glutes and hamstrings, with the trainer again. (I tend to find my quads doing all the work; strong quads are good, but I want lots of strong muscles.) During that, I asked her not to refer to the weight room as the "boys' room," because comments like that were part of why it had taken me a year and a half to find my way in there. She agreed, but I don't know if it will affect what she says to other exercisers, which is the important thing at this point. (It was a very thorough workout.)

After working out, I had lunch in Chinatown, and then bought light bulbs at a store that sells bulbs of all sorts, and lamps. It was nice to have several choices of three-way bulbs; I bought the basic 50-100-150s that we always get, our wiring not being rated for more than that. While waiting in line at the cash register, I had a perfectly friendly conversation with a lunatic, who thanked me for being helpful. She started by saying she was looking for a Gauss meter, and that she'd seen it advertised on the net, but no store she'd walked into knew what she was talking about. She's worried about "EMF," i.e. any radiation outside the visible spectrum, and specifically that her neighbor's stereo may be leaking electricity into her apartment. I suggested that she might as well just go ahead and put up some aluminum foil to block it. She observed that I knew what I was talking about, and asked my advice on which side of the foil to put against the wall. I said I didn't think it mattered (and I don't: this is pure placebo); she felt that the shiny side was appropriate, and I didn't argue. She still wants the meter, so she can figure out where to put the foil: rather than cover the entire wall, she wants to put up a square, and then put a picture or poster over it. Either she doesn't find aluminum foil attractive, or she's more worried that her relatives and friends will consider her crazy than that a random stranger on Canal Street will.

( workout details )

The ornamental cherries in Columbus Park are in bloom.

Not one or two stray flowers: branches covered with small white blossoms, on several different trees.

Columbus Park is in Chinatown, where cattitude and I were walking after eating lunch, thinking in terms of buying some roast meat for tonight's dinner. We were at Bayard and Mulberry when I noticed the flowers. We crossed the street, and saw that yes, there really were flowers (not dried-out leaves or an illusion), many of them. Mostly of the cherry trees are protected by fencing or boulders, but Cattitude was able to reach one flowering branch and pull it down enough for me to touch the soft petals.

A few other people were paying attention to the flowers; most of the people in the park were either playing basketball, eating lunch, or standing in a circle around, I assume, some sort of event that we couldn't see.

I'd been thinking of getting tangerine sorbet already, and the cherries decided it. So there I was, in my old down jacket, eating sorbet and thinking about flowers, with my beloved. A few hours earlier, we'd been discussing the last few green leaves on the honey locust trees in Inwood Hill Park, and noticing that the leaves on the jimson weed were showing signs of last night's freeze, the first of the season.

nnaloh was in New York for a few days after the SF Research Association shindig in White Plains, and got a few people together for dinner last night. I'm glad to have been one of them. I could have felt out of place, the other five being two professional editors (sdn and Ellen Datlow) and three fiction writers (Nalo, Ama Peterson, and Andrea Hairston), but that didn't really occur to me until I was on my way home. There was some science-fiction-related conversation (writing, fine points of reprint rights, the shapes of awards, Wiscon), along with stuff about dolls (Nalo showed off a couple of statuettes she'd just picked up), quite a bit about gender and transgender stuff, and a moment where Ellen joked "What's exercise?" and I said "it's how I get endorphins between tattoo sessions."

We were at Shun Lee Cafe, which I'm guessing Nalo picked either for location or because her hosts recommended it; the food made me miss Chinatown (where I'd have been fed better dim sum for significantly less money, and where Hunan anything, after the waiter asked if we wanted it spicy, would have had noticeable spiciness. But they let us sit for three and a half hours, talking and nibbling and drinking (mostly water and tea).

I dealt with last night's missing Chinatown by hopping down there after working out this morning, getting one of my usual things at Excellent Dumpling, and picking up a roast pork bun at a random bakery and eating it as I strolled back to the subway.

( gym numbers )

There was the usual sitting around and waiting, being told how everything works (which they have to do, because not everyone's been there before, and some who have may not remember the details). Between that and the first time they called juror names for a possible panel, I watched the SpaceShipOne flight on a laptop belonging to a member of the X Prize Board. He seemed very cheerful about the need to cut a large check.

I was called for one potential jury. They had 60 of us in a room, swore us all in, introduced the prosecutor, defense attorney, and defendant, and verified that none of us recognized any of them. The judge then described the case briefly--three related drug charges, all stemming from a buy-and-bust case--and asked if there was anyone who felt they couldn't be fair to one side or the other.

I raised my hand. The judge called on me and I explained that I don't agree with the state drug laws (you don't have to support the legalization of heroin to agree that New York's "Rockefeller" drug laws are barbaric and oppressive). He asked another question and I said that no, I didn't think I'd be able to set that opinion aside and follow the law. So he told me to get my "ballot" (Ghu knows why they call the juror slips that) back from the court officer and turn it in at the jury room.

That was it until lunchtime. The waitress at Excellent Dumpling remembered that I wanted duck, but wasn't sure which duck dish; I told her, and added egg drop soup. Unsurprisingly, they do an excellent egg drop soup, the first in years that I haven't added soy sauce to. I followed that up with one scoop each of lichee and ginger ice cream at the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory: I realized as I walked out the door that, to the casual eye, it looked as though I had a vanilla cone.

I spent another hour or two of the afternoon sitting in the jury room, rereading The King's Peace, and waiting to be called. Then they sent us home until tomorrow. I called my office to tell Marvin that I would have to go back tomorrow. The poor man seems traumatized by my hair color, and he hasn't even seen it.

Thence to the gym. Fifteen minutes of cardio (I'd set the machine for 20, felt a bit tired, and figured okay, good enough, I've fallen out of practice on lengthy cardio and I had gotten my heart rate up to 142). Thence to the calf machine: 2 sets of 13 reps at 70 pounds, then one set of 13 at 67.5. Slow progress, but it is an improvement.

Next should have been bench presses. I removed the two 45-pound weight plates that the previous user had left on that machine, and put on my own (slightly lighter total, and no single plate more than 25 pounds), and started to move the weight bench so the head end would be where I wanted it. It was noticeably tiring.

For best results, avoid doing stupid things. If moving the weight bench is tiring, don't bench-press 65 pounds. I finished moving the bench, to avoid leaving it in the middle of the floor, briefly considered doing crunches, and then decided that the sensible thing to do would be to shower and go home. So I did, which had the advantage of getting me back here around six.

Conclusion: I am not, in fact, well, but neither was last night's sneezing and such an allergic reaction to julian_tiger, as I'd briefly suspected after not sneezing all day.

I slept all the way until 8:30 this morning (woo!), and was ready to go about an hour later. Of course, I underestimated how long it takes to get from home to the subway when we stop to browse a block of Greenmarket, but that's okay. I got Tydeman apples, apple/raspberry cider, blueberries, and meat.

Then I went to the gym, where I took my time, and learned a new machine. After working myself thoroughly out, I went down to Chinatown, stopping on the subway platform to assist some bemused tourists, who are used to a much more compact, air conditioned subway (Washington). I walked up as the woman was saying to one of the children "I hate this place", asked them where they were going, and assured them that yes, the R would take them to the Statue of Liberty, even though it also goes to Bay Ridge. In Chinatown, I met eleanor for dim sum (spending more than I'd expected, because we cheerfully got as many things as we might have if we'd been three or four people instead of two), and browsed Chinatown a bit. I have the pens and pony-tail holders I needed. I have ginger and scallions. I have fresh figs (and was bemused by the would-be customer who was unhappy because the stand had no dried figs) and thin asparagus. I even have two more rice bowls, because I liked the pattern.

Then home, and tea, and I'm sitting here trying not to grumble too much because I have (pre-)menstrual pain.

( Gym details )