- 02:57 I just called 911 to report screaming, slaps and sobs, echoing through the airshaft. Can’t tell from where, exactly. I hope they find her. #
- 03:11 Everything is quiet now. #
- 04:04 I’m heading to the radio station for the Hour of the Wolf from 5-7 AM today. Listen live or later on demand at hourwolf.com #
- 06:43 212-209-2900 if you want to call into the radio show. I’m here till 7. #
- 07:17 That was fun. If Jim Freund ever asks you to be on Hour of the Wolf, say yes. #
- 07:35 Well, I was planning on writing during the subway trip home, but I think staying awake will be a triumph. #
- 07:53 The fact that the train is stopping between stations is not helping me with the drowsy issue. #
- 08:16 I’ve made it home and am crawling into bed as Rob heads off to the winery. Our life looks like this a lot. #
- 15:04 Just picked up a cool gig doing sculptural set pieces for a dance company. Will need 100s of toothbrushes. #
- 15:29 Totally blew the zebra pickup. #
- 15:59 Watching rehearsal for “What of the Night.” I like this script quite a bit. #
- 17:27 Thoughtful post by @brendacooper on Web 2.0 and marketing for writers. YouTube. Vimeo. Twitter. Facebook. tinyurl.com/dk5a7n #
- 20:04 Scrubbing a database is about as much fun as it sounds. #
Posts Tagged ‘Rob’
When we got back from Philadelphia last night, I followed Rob to the winery mostly to prolong our day together. We realized that this little weekend jaunt is the first time we’ve been away together since we moved here. (Not counting Christmas).
The nice thing about the winery is that they’ll usually let me park at an out of the way table and write. The danger is that I’ve recently discovered that they have free wifi. As the evening picked up, I freed the table and came home to see the cats, who clearly did not miss us at all.
This morning we slept in sinfully late. At least, by the clock it was late, but since Rob doesn’t get home until one or two these days, noon doesn’t sound as bad as it might. He made waffles. Life is pretty good, you know?
Yes. It’s true. Rob finally has a date for the operation. March 30th, they’ll tackle the carpal tunnel in his right wrist.
Of course, first, he has to have a pre-op physical. I don’t have any understanding of why he has to have this second physical when he just had one with the same doctor. We are both hoping that they will be able to schedule this physical rather faster than they did the other one, otherwise they’ll have to push the operation date back. Mind you, when the problem was first diagnosed in October, the surgeon had wanted to get Rob in that week for surgery. Clearly, he is dealing with relatavistic time of some sort.
New York was scheduled to get fourteen inches of snow today. I’m not sure how many actually fell, but the blanket was pretty thick today. Rob and I went for a walk in Central Park, which had children on sleds on every possible hill. Their winter coats seemed super-saturated against the monochrome landscape. It reminded me of when we went to the glacier in Iceland. As you walk through snow, your eyes become accustomed to a stripped down palette, so any tiny variation of color stands out. Introduce machine made color into that and it almost makes the landscape bleed.
Lately, my schedule has been keeping time with Rob’s which means that we’re often up until 2 a.m.Â The advantage to this is that when he goes to bed, I can continue recording in the quietest time.Â The downside is when I have to be up early the next morning.Â Like today.
I had a rehearsal this morning for a show that Jodi and I are doing on March 12th. It’s a very short piece which involves me being a dish, a fork and a bowl.Â Jodi plays a spoon, a knife and a plate. The tension and high drama!Â Actually, I think it’s a good little piece and I’ll post a link to the show information later.
I went straight from that rehearsal to a production meeting for a different show where I’m building some crows and a box of entrails.Â Really, I have the best job.
I spent most of the day tending to SFWA matters, including getting my platform for re-election turned in.Â Yes, I’m running for Secretary again. Why? Because contrary to popular belief, it’s really not so bad. It helps that the board is active, engaged and generally gets along.Â We’re also doing good work and it’s exciting to be a part of that.
Other than that, it was a fairly quiet day. Rob ironed and listened to opera, which was his Saturday routine back when we were courting.Â I know. The boy likes ironing, what can I say.
Anything else exciting?Â I cut his hair?Â Yeah, when I’m between shows life is pretty dull.
There’s actually not that much to tell this time, except that he has managed to schedule an appointment to get the new nerve conductivity test. Somewhat amazingly, it’s this coming Thursday. I was rather expecting it to take a month.
On the other hand, when Rob spoke with the surgeon, they still haven’t received the report from his physical and can’t schedule the surgery until they do. So, that’s business as usual.
Apparently, there’s also a war between our insurance and the worker’s comp about who pays for it. I feel as if we just paid for it out of pocket, everything would have been easier and not significantly less expensive.
As part of the month of birthday experiences, I threw a Favorite Childhood Food Potluck. The rules were that you could bring the actual item or a grown up rendition of it. It was a tremendous amount of fun, but not clearly thought through. Why? Because everyone’s favorite childhood food was a dessert. We had an entire table of sweet, sweet desserts.
There were two notable exceptions. Liz Gorinsky made a homemade version of Stouffer’s frozen macaroni and cheese that was a god send in the midst of all that sugar. It vanished very quickly. My favorite visual memory of the evening came after everyone had left and Rob picked the giant serving spoon, scraping the edges of the tin to get out the last of the mac and cheese. The spoon was so oversized that he totally looked like a small child.
The other exception was one of my favorites, shrimp cocktail.Â Apparently, when I was very little, I loved it. Mom tells this story about putting away my sweater after some part and discovering, in the pockets, handfuls of shrimp. Upon questioning, I explained that I was saving them for later. Fortunately, I didn’t feel the need to recreate that entire dish: Day Old Shrimp with Finely Shredded Cotton Fibers.
Other favorite foods included Katie Menick’s homemade girlscout cookie Samoas, Fabulous Girl’s Mother’s Lemon Poundcake, Jennifer Jackson’s grandmother’s coffee toffee bars. There were flapjacks, Capri-suns, Peanut Butter and Jelly Cupcakes. (My idea, via Martha Stewart, to combine two childhood favorites in one) Graham Crackers and White frosting, and… somewhere in there a sugar coma set in.
Today was fairly laid back.Â After all the running around that I’ve been doing over the past month or so with shows and whatnot, yesterday was the first real breather I’ve had. Naturally, faced with nothing else to do, my body decided to get sick. Fortunately, it seems to have been fairly mild and is already pretty much done. I subscribe to the theory that hibernation is the best way to combat a cold, so I hunkered down on the sofa under the very warm, cozy blanket that Laurel Amberdine made as a birthday present.Â Between that, lots of snoozing, and warm beverages, I feel pretty much completely human today.
Fortunately, Rob and I pretty much ignore Valentine’s Day, so I didn’t miss much.Â Although he did make waffles this morning and cooked dinner tonight.Â Pretty swell arrangement, if you ask me.
Rob finally had his physical while I was away. In fact, that’s why he didn’t go with me to the birthday retreat, because the only date he could get was smack in the middle of it.Â While I was in Chattanooga, I told one of my cousins, who’s a surgeon, about the physical.
He looked baffled and said, “It’s a six-minute procedure done under, at most, a shoulder block.Â Why do they need a physical?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Insurance, I guess.”
He shook his head. “Fly him down here. It’ll be less of a hassle.”
We both laughed.
So, today, Rob finds out that yes, of course, there’s another hoop he has to jump through. The nerve-conductivity test he had back in Portland shows that his hands are normal.Â This means two things 1) they have to do another one. 2) It’s not a pre-existing condition, which throws the status of the insurance (worker’s comp or our insurance) back up in the air again.
I’m beginning to think that I should just put him on a plane to Chattanooga.
Well, my guests have all gone to bed and I’m mostly packed. I decided to catch an early flight back to New York because there are some things going on with the show that need attention and it’ll be less stressful to just fly back and deal with it myself.
I have to tell you that this week has been wonderful. Having time to hang out with family and friends, write and cook has been just great. I don’t want it to be over.
On the other hand, I am looking forward to getting home to Rob. The only time my poor boy could schedule for his physical was on Thursday, so he wasn’t able to be here for the weekend. He also came down with a nasty, nasty cold. Hopefully I’ll be able to tend to him some when I get home and not spend all my time at the theater.
But if I do, at least I’ll have some very happy memories to boost my spirits. I haven’t even told you half of the cool things from this week. For now, know that I am an extremely happy forty year old girl.
I’m in tech this week, so you’ll have to bear with me as my posts descend into Twitter updates.
- 19:53 Firing water pistols down my hall to check range and spatter pattern. #
- 20:23 You know. Life is really good sometimes. Today is one of those day. #
- 23:33 The nice thing about visiting my husband at work, is that it is a winery. He’s provided me with a glass of champagne while I wait for him. #
I got stuck in the elevator again today. Â Granted, it wasn’t long this time, but I did just sort of start laughing. Â
I was heading out to go to the Puppet Kitchen and decided to drop the trash off in the basement on my way. Â The thing about the basement is that there’s not another way to get to it except by the fire escape outside, which isn’t really an option. Â I got to the basement, put my trash in the bin and got back in the elevator to go back up to the first floor. The door closed and nothing happened.
You know how it is. You push all the buttons, hoping one of them will work. What was interesting this time was that I was next to the routing machine and could hear it clicking as it reset everytime I pushed a button.
I rang the bell. Then I twittered. Â And then I called Rob.Â
Pretty quickly this time, I heard people through the shaft trying to figure out where the elevator was stuck. Â They got me out in about ten minutes. It’s a little silly.
On the other hand, it’d be a great setting for an elevator pitch.
In a future world where the weather is controlled, vineyard owner Bharat Mundari is unable to pay his weather bill after spending too much on his daughter’s wedding. The grapes are suffering in the resulting drought, and he is afraid to tell his wife about the trouble they are in; she knows, however, that he is keeping a secret from her and imagines the worse.
Although it gets a bit sappy towards the end, [1. Guilty as charged, but I like sappy…particularly with body and structure, paired with a velvety finish as in a Sauternes. Seriously, do you think she knows that “sappy” is a popular description of Chateau d’Yquem‘s Semillon? Because that would be hilarious.] this one is enhanced by the viniculture neep, and the wine-review epigraphs opening each section are a nice touch:
Mundari Vineyard 2045, Nashik (India), Shiraz
Black cherry, plum, and currant flavors mingle with aromas of sweet tobacco and sage in this dependable offering from India.
I have to give credit to Rob for the wine-review epigraphs. He wrote them. I cut them down to manageable lengths.
You might recall that we’ve had a moose head in our apartment since last June. While it makes for amusing conversation, the thing took up massive amounts of space in our bedroom.Â We wrapped the antlers in foam because of the number of times I stumbled into it getting out of bed at night.
It makes for an interesting bruise pattern, to say the least.
New Year’s Day, the actor whom we were holding it for, had someone pick it up.Â Now, I have to say that it’s not his fault that it was here this long. We’d offered to ship the thing but it proved harder than we thought.Â When I called him to say that we were giving up, he got his cousin to come over.
The process of getting the head out was like a Laurel and Hardy routine because the entry hall to our apartment turns the corner coming in. AND the head won’t fit on the elevator, so they had to walk it down five flights of stairs.
It is gone and our bedroom feels positively huge.