A Manicure for Her Birthday

I love how sometimes, the best way to have a wonderful day, or learn something new, is to mess up your schedule.  

On Tuesday, I taught a class in the morning, and meant to go to yoga at noon before my Panatukan class in Chinatown started at 3pm.  I had a little over an hour to kill and a brand new book to do it with!  I headed to one of my favourite cafes, Think Coffee, and settled into a booth with some java and my book.  "First Loves" by Turgenev.  It was lovely, tragic, and funny.  You know, a good old classic Russian novella.  I felt utterly Chekhovian reading it, which I might have enjoyed almost as much as the book itself.

I bought the book at the Strand Bookstore, which is possibly the most wonderful place on earth.  There are at least four floors covered in 18 miles of mostly used books.  You can find just about anything, except for some new releases.  On Monday night, it was about 10pm, and I was waiting for Danny's show to end so we could travel home on the subway together.  I hadn't intended to stay in Manhattan.  My initial plan was to go home and organize my closet, but instead, I ended up attempting to find the remaining pieces or my Halloween costume, but actually buying gifts for Danny and some books for myself.  I got him a mug that makes you look like you sport the lower half of Abraham Lincoln's face, a sampler that has squirrels on it and says "I'm Nuts About You" at Urban Outfitters, and an Immortal Iron Fist Graphic novel at The Strand.  The reason I ended up in Strand at all, to be frank, was their bathroom.  But, the result was awesome because I bought myself the Turgenev novella, a book by Henry James, "The Turn of the Screw" and a keychain that says "The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters".  I feel like a badass now every time I unlock my door.  

So, as I stated above, my choice to not go home, but rather to kill time in the bookstore (and utilize their rest facilities) resulted in wonderful things.  This then influenced my Tuesday because Turgenev made me miss yoga.  I was so enraptured in the love twisted tale of young Vladomyr and his love Zinaida, who, once again, in a classic Russian twist, was having an affair with his dad, that I missed it.  I looked at my phone and it said 12:15.  My coffee had gone cold.  I gulped down the remaining lukewarm bits of caffeinated disappointment and formulated a new plan.

This plan was: manicure.  I used to treat myself to manicures and pedicures all the time.  This, of course, was when I was attending NYU, didn't understand that money did not grow on trees, and thought my breath was made of glitter.  Pre-Tuesday, it had been a year since my last manicure.  I've been, inexplicably, a stress ball all week, and I remembered that there was a place nearby, E-nail, that was $22 for a manicure and pedicure.  Bing, bing, bing!  That was what I would do.  That would make me feel better.  Pampered, massaged, and all kinds of beautified.

It was awesome.  I'm so glad I splurged on it.  My feet and hands felt like they were made of clouds instead of flesh and bone.  The nails on my fingers were decorated a perfectly coated, sparkly hot fuchsia and my toes became a shade of purple so dark, it almost looked black.  The callous on the bottom of my feet was no longer hard and peeling, but soft and nice to touch.  But... the best part?  The lady sitting next to me as I got the manicure. 

She was 90 years old, and had been brought in by her best friend as a birthday present.  Her friend sat diligently behind her, watching, as the woman giggled with glee.  She walked in on her friend's arm, her friend carrying her cane for her.  When she transitioned from the manicure station to the long table with the UV lights, her friend helped her along in the same way.  The woman just looked so happy.  The two ladies just smiled and giggled, and spoke to one another in Russian with voices full of musicality and life.  They were so much more excited than I was.  I'm 22.  They were 86 and 90.  They were more full of life.  As the woman's fingernails became a lovely, classic shade of light pink, she almost cooed.

They made my day.  I don't know any other way to say that.  The scene was so beautiful I almost cried.  That sounds silly, but that little moment, that touching scene between two friends who obviously cared so much for one another, was amazing.  She wanted to give her friend a great 90th birthday, and she did.  I almost asked them if I could take their photograph, but I chickened out.  I knew I had to write about them, though.

I can only pray that I have a friend that glorious when I'm turning 90.  God bless them both.  I'm so glad that I didn't go home Monday night.  I'm so happy that I got lost in Turgenev.  I'm just... happy!  That couldn't have worked out better.

You know, I took a photograph of my manicure to put in this post, but right now, I don't care.  That would take away from the point.  My manicure didn't matter.  My experience did.

Manhattan, New York City, New York, USA

Easy Freezy Fridgey Weezy

People say that the bumper stickers, decals, etc on your car say a lot about you, as a person.  

I don't own a car.  So I'm going to use my fridge for that instead.  Our fridge is littered with magnets, art, quotes, cards, postcards and such that we've collected.  We haven't even put out all of our Shakespearean language magnets yet, you know, those "poetry" ones that are each a different word.  They seem as if they are designed so that one can write, well, poetry with them, but we all know... they are actually meant for writing the dirtiest possible sayings you can come up with using the available words.  And Lord knows, in the Shakespearean set, there are a lot.  I've been wanting to get a ghetto slang set to accompany the Shakespeare one, because hell, who doesn't want a fridge that says "thous hast uh weezy bosom thou wicked varlet wiv uh seemly swagga?"  

Anyway, enjoy some Admiral Akbar, Soup Nazi, painted, photographed, postcarded goodness.

Brooklyn, New York City, New York, USA

The Marvelous Monday Pact

Happy Monday!!

I've never been one of those people who are terrified of Mondays.  I don't hate Mondays, and I don't dread their arrival.  I've never minded them, as a matter of fact.  In high school, I was usually fine with going into school on Monday morning, because it was one of the only days of the week I didn't have to be there early for a club meeting.  (When I was in high school I was in far too many clubs because I wanted to be accepted to college... I was ridiculous.)  In college, I had classwork to do every day, so Mondays never felt particularly different.  While I worked summer stock... Monday was my day off.  It was my weekend.  So, it was my favourite day of the week!  Now, I love my job, so come Monday, I'm always excited and enthusiastic.  Waking up may not be the best moment of the day, but once I'm out of bed, have kissed my man goodbye, and am out the door, I'm a happy lady.

When I do have those mornings in which my pillow is beckoning to me, despite my lack of time, I try to think of this quote:

"Be miserable, or motivate yourself.  Whatever has to be done, it is always your choice"- Wayne Dyer

It helps me fend of the temptation of the warm covers and pleasant dreams by reminding me that no, snooze buttons do not make you late.  You make you late by not taking the time to double check the alarm, or make sure that you have gotten out of bed.  And this realization makes me happy, because it reminds me that I have free will.  I'm not a servant to fate.  My morning is good if I decide that it is good, and bad if I decide that it is bad.  If I choose to hate Mondays, I will hate Mondays.  If I start my week off with optimism and a smile, I am more likely to notice, and thus focus upon, the parts of my life that are going well, rather than poorly.  

Think about the ramifications of this... if we all just decided that we were going to start our Mondays with a smile, a happy thought, an omelette and a cup of steaming coffee instead of a frown, a scowl, and seventy-five smashes of the snooze button... WE MIGHT ALL HAVE AWESOME MONDAYS.  Isn't that great?  I think that's great.  I mean, I do prefer to have good days.  Bad days are to be avoided, in my opinion, so why on earth would I ever doom myself to one with  a bad attitude, or general negativity?  That goes against every logic I can possibly think of.

So, I propose this...
THE MARVELOUS MONDAY PACT.
*Cue trumpet fanfare*
I dare you to join me.  When you wake up on Monday, play some fun music, eat some nice food, go for a walk, call a good friend, watch an entertaining TV show, play a nifty video game, read an enchanting book, or do whatever the hell you need to do to make yourself postive.  Run.  Do yoga.  I don't care.  Read Travel and Toile....  Pick something.  You know what makes you happy better than anyone else does.  But give yourself a good day.  Why not?  Bad days aren't fun, are they?

As a motivation, please enjoy these photographs of coffee, breakfast items, and baked goods perfect for getting a smile on your face, and that dud of a Monday rolling!

       

         

Manhattan and Brooklyn, New York City, New York, USA

Inspiration Fridays: Superheroes

Earlier this week, I wrote a post mourning my lack of mutant powers.  It seems, often, that life would be so much easier if, like Cyclops, I could shoot lasers out of my eyes, or, like Supergirl, I could do, well, everything.  I'm inspired by Superheroes not only because of their abilities, which are mostly enviable, but for their passion.  Even superheroes who are morally grey, like Deadpool, sometimes do the right thing just for the sake of doing the right thing.

Because, they want to make the world better.  Superheroes like Emma Frost surprise me even more, because they have gone through transformations, changes of ideals that bring them to a place of wanting to fight for "good."  (I'm also planning on dressing up as her for Halloween).  Batman, with his gadgets, and The Immortal Iron Fist, with his martial prowess.  It's all impressive.  But, it's that fight for the right, the will to carry on against all odds that I wish to emulate.  That's what impresses me.

Maybe, because I want to make the world better, too.

Comics Batman

Droid Forums

Epic Ponyz

Author Quest

Sound on Sight

Bam KaPOW

Zoom Comics

Superhero Hype

Comic Vine

Fan Pop

Wish I Was There

My mother and father are in London right now, and I wish that I was there too.  I loved London, and since I came back to the US, I've just wanted to go back and take even more advantage of what the city and country have to offer.  I think that I did a pretty brilliant job last time of exploring, learning the culture, and the theatrical environment of London.  I loved the art, saw most of the museums, hung out in the pubs, etc.  But... I want more.  I want to explore the mystical side of Britain a bit more, I want to learn more of the historical heritage of art, literature and theatre that developed there, and I want a grad degree.

It's funny, two years ago, which is almost how long it's been since I first left for London, I was scoffing at the idea of grad school.  I saw it as what my friends who didn't know what they wanted to do were doing.  The ones who wanted to put "real life" off for a little bit longer, or were taking a little bit more advantage of mummy and daddy's dollars for a few more years of college playtime.  Now, I know that some of them are doing that for those reasons, but for many people, it is much more than that.  My initial view was very shallow and critical.  

I want to go to the Central School of Speech and Drama to receive and MFA in Voice.  Not immediately, but sometime within the next ten years, I plan to do this.  This shall happen.  Right now, I'm being handed, on, essentially, a silver platter, everything that I want to be learning, opportunities, an environment that fosters creative learning, and a paycheck, so I would be insane to go now.  As I said, this is in my ten-year plan. I'm extremely excited about the prospect,however, partially because I will get to return to London, but, well, mostly because this will give me the chance to rise from "a voice and speech teacher" to "an amazing voice and speech teacher at the cutting edge of the field."  I find that thrilling.  My parents' current trip has only made me more excited about this.  Their descriptive emails have also made me trail back through some of my old photographs, which I have shared below.  I don't think any of these have ever been on this blog before, but I'm proud of them.  Many of them aren't my best photographs, but I take them as a testament to how far I have come.  I've become a much better photographer (and person) since I started this blog.

Eventually, I will go back to London, and it will be to study what makes me more happy, and excited than any other pursuit ever has.  I'll apply in a few years, and keep applying until I am accepted.  And, I'll go through the whole process with enthusiasm and happiness.

London is calling!

London, England, UK