Phase 1:
Acquire a bicycle.
Acquire a helmet.
Acquire WWII era tank goggles (has been proven to be the ultimate accessory)
Get used to, and enjoy riding the surface streets in open air. Wind on face/goggles. Feeling good about my trip to and from work. Get exercise and show up to work looking a mess.
Phase 2:
Acquire a scooter. (yes, I know the one I want, and it rules)
Acquire a better helmet.
Continue to use said tank goggles daily.
Get used to and enjoy motoring the surface streets in open air. Wind on face/goggles. Feeling the exhilaration on my trip to and from work. Get onlookers who wonder who that rad guy on the scooter is, and show up to work looking a mess.
Phase 3:
Officially start a scooter gang, finally. (Oh, we have a name)
Acquire custom jackets with fringe under the arms and our gang name emblazoned across the back.
Get used to and enjoy cruising with my gang thru the surface streets in the open air. Wind on our faces/goggles. Get mad respect when we role up to our café/bar/restaurant/movie theater, not as some strange people on scooters, but as a gang, with all the street cred’ and reverence we deserve.
Oh, and show up to work looking a mess.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
The Chinese, and Tapioca
are surrounding me.
I love being the minority.
It is a bit like travel, only it doesn’t take very long and it’s much less expensive.
Houston continues to surprise me, in terms of cultural diversity.
I am currently sitting in the Tapioca House, soaking up my minority-ness and sipping / chewing an earl grey milk tea, with tapioca of course.
I am sitting in a high chair, next to a floor to ceiling window in full sunlight.
As I look around the place, and into the adjoining parking lot, I cannot seem to find a single English word. A great deal of Chinese and Korean, no English.
As I was writing the last sentence 2 men having an argument / conversation sat at my high, round bar table with me. No acknowledgment that I am sitting here. No refrain because it’s such a small table, and I have spread out over most of it. No awkwardness about entering and exiting the Western concept of “personal space” without so much as a glance in my direction.
There were 2 empty seats. And they sat.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel like any of this is strange or wrong, I just can’t help but be amused by being forced to confront my own upbringing and culture. Those hardwired modes of operation that make us who we are and yet remain invisible when around like minded, like spoken, and like appearing individuals.
During that last paragraph I attempted contact by saying in “perfect” Mandarin, “how are you?” Which prompted a very broken but perfectly enthusiastic English response of “good, thank you.” Apparently I was sized up as not being able to continue in the conversation much farther than “how are you?” in my “perfect” Mandarin.
It’s a beautiful day in Houston.
The sun is shining, the wind is blowing, and the Chinese, and Tapioca, are surrounding me.
I love being the minority.
It is a bit like travel, only it doesn’t take very long and it’s much less expensive.
Houston continues to surprise me, in terms of cultural diversity.
I am currently sitting in the Tapioca House, soaking up my minority-ness and sipping / chewing an earl grey milk tea, with tapioca of course.
I am sitting in a high chair, next to a floor to ceiling window in full sunlight.
As I look around the place, and into the adjoining parking lot, I cannot seem to find a single English word. A great deal of Chinese and Korean, no English.
As I was writing the last sentence 2 men having an argument / conversation sat at my high, round bar table with me. No acknowledgment that I am sitting here. No refrain because it’s such a small table, and I have spread out over most of it. No awkwardness about entering and exiting the Western concept of “personal space” without so much as a glance in my direction.
There were 2 empty seats. And they sat.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel like any of this is strange or wrong, I just can’t help but be amused by being forced to confront my own upbringing and culture. Those hardwired modes of operation that make us who we are and yet remain invisible when around like minded, like spoken, and like appearing individuals.
During that last paragraph I attempted contact by saying in “perfect” Mandarin, “how are you?” Which prompted a very broken but perfectly enthusiastic English response of “good, thank you.” Apparently I was sized up as not being able to continue in the conversation much farther than “how are you?” in my “perfect” Mandarin.
It’s a beautiful day in Houston.
The sun is shining, the wind is blowing, and the Chinese, and Tapioca, are surrounding me.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Illness (still)
A list of things that were supposed to make me better:
- Going on a very long drive thru the country(ish).
- Drinking lots of Tea.
- Drinking my weight in Airborne.
- Watching the Second Season of The Office (brit.)
- Watching Dressed to Kill by Eddie Izzard (brit.)
- Staying warm.
- Shopping for Meds.
- Shopping for Soup.
- Being shocked by where all this Mucus actually comes from, because I’m pretty sure Mucus has the ability to break the physical law of conservation of mass.
- And lots, and lots of NyQuil
A list of things that will make me feel better tomorrow:
- Showing up to work with my own boxes of Kleenex and a fresh tube of Airborne.
- Going on a very long drive thru the country(ish).
- Drinking lots of Tea.
- Drinking my weight in Airborne.
- Watching the Second Season of The Office (brit.)
- Watching Dressed to Kill by Eddie Izzard (brit.)
- Staying warm.
- Shopping for Meds.
- Shopping for Soup.
- Being shocked by where all this Mucus actually comes from, because I’m pretty sure Mucus has the ability to break the physical law of conservation of mass.
- And lots, and lots of NyQuil
A list of things that will make me feel better tomorrow:
- Showing up to work with my own boxes of Kleenex and a fresh tube of Airborne.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
World Premiere, Horses, Illness
I sit, crossed legged on my couch, sweating from fever, and confused but happy as to why Linksys has once again opened up it’s doors to me.
World Premiere:
In the world of opera that I have known for the past couple of years, world premieres are not that common. Yes, yes, new “productions” of established opera’s have become the norm, but an actual premiere, not that common.
I have to admit that the whole idea of premiere had me a little awe struck on Friday night. I got to be part of a production that, for all intents and purposes had never been seen by an audience before. True, it had been work shopped, honed, practiced, and refined for a very long time, by a great many people. But never before performed.
When one looks in Opera books, libretto’s, et cetra, information you are always given is composer, librettist, date and venue first performed.
This marks the first time I have been a part of that last piece of info about a work.
Horses:
Saturday morning was the Rodeo Parade thru downtown Houston.
So naturally I went.
And naturally, I wore my cowboy boots and faux pearl snap down plaid shirt.
There were many a horse, and cowboy.
One of the more entertaining parts of the event were what could best be described as Houston Zambonis.
Every few thousand horses, there would be an exchange, nay, a dance between 2 miniature street sweepers. Criss Crossing back and forth down the avenues, leaving nothing but a fine mist of vaporized horse manure in the air.
Illness:
For the second time this winter season I am ill.
Nothing quite like getting my first 3 day weekend off in recent memory, than being able to spend it sitting on my couch/bed feeling miserable.
But I am resolved to be healthy by tomorrow so I can go do fun things with my last free day before diving into the next 2 shows for the Spring.
So if you wouldn’t mind, please send positive vibrations and thoughts of warm chicken soup my way.
And I will attempt to put them to good use.
World Premiere:
In the world of opera that I have known for the past couple of years, world premieres are not that common. Yes, yes, new “productions” of established opera’s have become the norm, but an actual premiere, not that common.
I have to admit that the whole idea of premiere had me a little awe struck on Friday night. I got to be part of a production that, for all intents and purposes had never been seen by an audience before. True, it had been work shopped, honed, practiced, and refined for a very long time, by a great many people. But never before performed.
When one looks in Opera books, libretto’s, et cetra, information you are always given is composer, librettist, date and venue first performed.
This marks the first time I have been a part of that last piece of info about a work.
Horses:
Saturday morning was the Rodeo Parade thru downtown Houston.
So naturally I went.
And naturally, I wore my cowboy boots and faux pearl snap down plaid shirt.
There were many a horse, and cowboy.
One of the more entertaining parts of the event were what could best be described as Houston Zambonis.
Every few thousand horses, there would be an exchange, nay, a dance between 2 miniature street sweepers. Criss Crossing back and forth down the avenues, leaving nothing but a fine mist of vaporized horse manure in the air.
Illness:
For the second time this winter season I am ill.
Nothing quite like getting my first 3 day weekend off in recent memory, than being able to spend it sitting on my couch/bed feeling miserable.
But I am resolved to be healthy by tomorrow so I can go do fun things with my last free day before diving into the next 2 shows for the Spring.
So if you wouldn’t mind, please send positive vibrations and thoughts of warm chicken soup my way.
And I will attempt to put them to good use.
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