Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

adrian_turtle, cattitude, and I have signed a lease on a new apartment! We still need to landlord to sign it, but at this stage I'm confident it's going to happen. (A couple of other things have fallen through.)

It's in Boston, specifically in Brighton, which I keep having to tell myself is not at/near a beach. We'll be moving in June.

Or, Chorégraphie qui mène à la satisfaction: the show was bilingual, though without a lot of dialogue in either language. (I suspect I would have gotten more out of it if I understood more French; I also suspect there are bits a monolingual Francophone would have missed.)

Performer and choreographer Nika Stein is good, and definitely expressed emotion and change within that. As promised on the Fringe website, there is a happy ending: the promotional bookmark in fact says "Warning 18+ Explicit emotional content, nudity, and happy ending."

Recommended, for my hypothetical reader who is in Montreal in the next week and likes dance. (Studio Jean-Valcourt du Conservatoire, 4750 av. Henri-Julien metro Laurier or Mont-Royal)

Meanwhile, I am feeling warm and cozy because I saw this with rysmiel yesterday and we have more Fringe tickets for tomorrow, and adrian_turtle and cattitude are going to a free outdoor performance of Macbeth this afternoon.

Today's mail brought an absolutely delightful Rosh Hashanah card, from adrian_turtle to me and cattitude. The card is addressed to both of us. There's a preprinted message that says "Peace to all people, good health, prosperity, and a sweet year to you! L'Shanah Tovah!"

That's a fine sentiment, but it's not what has had me smiling broadly for the last hour. Underneath, she wrote "you are my family and I love you" and added her wish that next year be healthier and happier for us than last. I don't think it could be much happier, but we'll be glad of healthier.

I am very pleased.

adrian_turtle, cattitude, and I went my aunt's Passover seder yesterday [1]. When Aunt Lea called to invite me and Andy a few weeks ago, I asked if I could bring Adrian, because she didn't have a seder to go to. Lea said it might be a little tight, physically, but of course Adrian was welcome. Adrian came down here Saturday afternoon; she could have gotten here earlier, but Andy and I wanted a little time to ourselves, and for him to nap, given that I was in Montreal the weekend before.

Finding matzoh in the neighborhood was more hassle than we expected, between stores that had none and the local supermarket having gotten several kinds of not-for-Passover-use matzo. I'd not been expecting a problem, because I hadn't bothered in years. I'm just in this to see my family; Adrian actually observes the holiday, and wanted matzoh. Nonetheless, Cattitude succeeded in finding the appropriate food, and had a nice walk out of it. I'd gotten a duck at Jefferson Market Friday, which I roasted for Saturday night's dinner, with roasted potatoes and cucumber salad. Sunday, Adrian made matzoh brei (a different style than I grew up with, but we all three enjoyed it) for late breakfast/early lunch.

Adrian and my relatives hit it off well. She said very nice things about my aunt Lea (who really is very cool), was proclaimed "now officially a relative" by my cousin Janet halfway through the seder for reading fluently and quickly from the hagaddah, and happily let Janet (and me, but mostly Janet) show her family photos and heirlooms. In the course of that tour, Adrian exclaimed happily over the poster showing the Periodic Table of the Protozoa. Aunt Lea still has Grandma and Grandpa's seder glasses (and my parents' highball glasses, which she used for water and seltzer during the meal), and some other nice glass dishes. Two teacups and saucers left, which she gave to me and Janet. Next year I may suggest that she use one herself, so I don't worry about dropping them.

My aunt Ruth seems to have mellowed in the last year or two; I don't know if that's an actual change, or that uncle Hank (her husband) wasn't there, or some other factor. After Ruth said something about Simon's health, Friedl (who I didn't grow up around, but who my mother and aunts refer to as "the fourth sister") told me that my mother is a saint.

On the way home, Adrian asked if Dave (Lea's husband) had been the only Jewish man there. I said no, there had been no Jewish men there. (She knows Cattitude isn't Jewish, and Janet's friend John was asking questions in ways that made it clear that he's not Jewish.)

When I asked Lea if I could bring Adrian, I referred to her as "my girlfriend Adrian," and then figured that I wasn't going to make a fuss about the nature of our relationship, but neither was I going to deny it if asked. As people arrived, Lea said "Vicki's friend," and I just referred to her by name. One or two people asked, and we said she'd come down from Boston for the weekend and to attend the seder. Similarly, John was introduced to people as Janet's friend, though that's pretty clearly a romantic connection (and he clearly wasn't looking for a seder for the sake of a seder). [To Lea, I said "this is Adrian," having described her previously.] She, Cattitude, and I showed up together, clearly all on good terms and happy;, while half of you would read that as cozy poly family, a lot of other people are going to read that as good friend (which she is) but not of that shape.

[1] This was officially a first seder: my aunt's figuring is that the day, for these purposes, is sundown to sundown, and starting at 2:00 Sunday afternoon and finishing around 5 or 6 is much easier on her and other people than starting right after sunset and finishing after 11 p.m.

I took my boss's offer of Friday morning off from work (to go with Wednesday and Thursday), rather than just going to work for three hours in the morning, in part so I could sleep in if it seemed appropriate.

Instead, I woke bright and early, and headed out to the gym. I had a theory that morning workouts go better for me than afternoon or after-work ones. I didn't actually do more exercises than in other recent sessions, but I think I enjoyed myself more, and I enjoyed not feeling pressed for time. [The plan was to go to the gym regardless of when I woke, and if necessary, shuffle things later in the day.] Insufficient data, and that's unlikely to change as long as I'm working regular hours. After I worked out, I called my mother, went to Chinatown for a quick lunch, and then up to my aunt Lea's house, where I discovered I had misunderstood discussions of scheduling, and my mother, my aunt, my aunt's mother-in-law Caroline, and Caroline's paid carer Cindy were about to sit down to a home-cooked lunch. I thought at first that all I had room for was tea, but then figured that some rice would be nice, and one thing led to another, and there was plenty of food, so I had two servings of the Chinese omelets (filled with cooked mushrooms and bits of sauteed meat) and some of the mixed vegetables. Unfortunately, Cindy didn't have enough English to tell me the name of the vegetable, so while I think I tried a new vegetable, I don't know which one. The English name probably includes "melon," it had pale green flesh, and was not at all bitter. Maybe winter melon. I thanked Cindy, afterwards, for cooking me something I'd never eaten before.

Then Mom, Lea, and I went around the corner to the senior center where my aunt attends a weekly Shakespeare class. The teacher's background seems to be primarily in theatre rather than literature, as an actor and acting teacher, and he knows quite a bit about Shakespeare. He's leading the class through Hamlet line-by-line, with comments where he thinks he can give useful background or a word needs glossing. We did about two scenes worth of Act III in about an hour, starting with the Player King coming in so Hamlet can give him instruction. (I managed not to say "love, blood, and rhetoric" aloud.) The teacher took the opportunity to talk about Shakespeare's relationship with Will Kemp, the chief clown in the company--he said that the complaints about clowns who speak more than is written in the script comes from a specific rivalry between them. The teacher also made sure we knew where the dirty jokes were. I've been to worse English classes, certainly, but don't feel a great need to go back; this may be partly my style, and partly that I did walk in in the middle. My aunt has been going to these classes for years, and enjoys them a lot.

After the class, we went back to my aunt's, and my aunt and I went and bought groceries while Mom napped briefly. We got back, Mom woke, and mostly Mom and I, and sometimes Mom, Lea, and I, talked about stuff, including some financial stuff. Caroline also napped a while, and woke up around the time I made myself some more tea; Cindy made her some, and served her some blueberry cheesecake. There turned out to be enough for everyone, and it was excellent, homemade by Caroline's granddaughter Karina (my cousin by marriage).

When I was ready to come home for dinner, Mom walked me down to the L train. Along the way, she said something like "what the three of you--four of you? have seems to be working" and I said yes, and then she asked what I was smiling about. I hadn't noticed, but thinking of my loves will do that, so I said that I was smiling about how wonderful they were and how lucky I was to have found them, and either I misspoke and only mentioned cattitude and adrian_turtle or she misheard, because she said "and [Q]?" and I said yes.

Mom then asked me how long Q and I have been involved, and how soon Q's partner had known. I said "As soon as Q and I knew we wanted this, which is also how long Cattitude has known." It seemed like the right question, or one of the right questions, whether in terms of liking them and wanting to be sure I'm treating them right, or of wanting to be sure that I'm not in for an unpleasant surprise at some point in the future.

I came home, Cattitude and I hung out a bit, and eventually sent for lamb rogan josh and aloo paratha, since I wasn't up to cooking and Cattitude hadn't bought stuff that would go into recipes he's experienced with. There was enough of the lamb that I had some for breakfast this morning. I also did some paid proofreading on the subway downtown, but there are a couple of points I need to check on before I fax it back (which I should do tomorrow), one of which is currently tagged by an exclamation point in the margin, and that I may yet punt--they're paying for proofreading, not a serious copyedit and fact check.

( your usual cut-tagged gym notes )

More saved comments: ( attitudes toward atheism, comparative oppression, applying theory to the past, quotes, what feels difficult, online and in-person communication, talking about literature )

The note that came with the flowers adrian_turtle sent to my office this week:

Dear Vicki, I love you and I'm proud of you. We're all ridiculously sentimental. Love, A.

This morning at work, I heard someone ask a third party if they knew (a slightly mangled version of) my name. I said "that's me" and was presented with a package from a florist.

Red roses. With a very sweet note, including the phrase "we are all ridiculously sentimental" and signed simply "A."

I guessed at which A it was. I guessed wrong, and cattitude told me that he didn't actually know where I was working, I remembered adrian_turtle asking yesterday what my new employer is called, and he observed that I have a clever, sneaky turtle. I do, at that. I am pleased.

More comments from elsewhere: ( names, anonymity, illness, comparisons, libraries and collection development, tool use )

A couple of hours ago, cattitude and I were coming in from a walk. At the elevator, we ran into the building "porter" (basically, he cleans the common areas). He looked at me and said "That your husband?" and I said yes. He then said "I saw him with another woman." My reply was "Which one?" and rather than saying anything specific, he said "She's beautiful." My answer to that was something like "I'm glad he has good taste." Asked whether I was jealous, I said no.

The elevator door closed behind us, and I started laughing. We spent a moment speculating on who he might have seen Cattitude with. We thought of one possibility, a downstairs neighbor who he sometimes chats with when he's out with a cigarette and she's walking her dog; that he may have confused Cattitude with someone else; and that it's also possible that he made the entire thing up, out of some warped sense of human humor. I noted that if the last, it's a good thing that he tried that nonsense on me, rather than on someone who might have taken such remarks seriously. I suppose it would be overkill to call the management company and tell them that the building porter is trying to start fights among their tenants.