A simple post of accessible length.
I'll be doing some business traveling this week in south-central Georgia. One of our clients is holding public hearings in eighteen cities around the state (of those, I drew Buckhead, Macon, Albany, Hazelhurst, and Athens - the middle three on a three-day trip) to learn what their clients think of some proposed changes to agency policy. Since the meetings are strictly one-way - the citizens can ask questions, but no one will answer them - the client is sending us rather than delegating staff who actually know what the changes are. We're to record the gist of the comments, which will then be compiled into some report, fulfilling the federal requirement for public input. Does anyone have to read the report? Let's assume so to avoid despair.
Since you never can tell where you'll wind up when you dare to leave your house, now seems like a good time to catch y'all up on recent adventures. Such as: I had to shop for business clothes with which to present a properly stenographic appearance at these meetings. I started at Macy's, the site of earlier successes, and my faithfulness was rewarded: I found a skirt and shirt and blazer (not to be worn at the same time), and also bought a jacket with a big graphic print that I'll probably take back when I remember that I never wear jackets. However, four out of three ain't bad. Sadly, stores are already into fall collections, which means a good deal of brown and plaids and other fox-hunting colors - and that, in turn, means brown shoes. I went to Marshall's, Wal*mart, Rack Room Shoes, and DSW (everything on one stretch of Mansell) and found ONE pair of brown shoes in size 11. RRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHH. Shoe shopping has all the tedium, expense, and vague, pervasive discomfort as a trip to the gynecologist, but at least the icky doctor stocks a full range of specula.1
Moving back up to the seat of intellect: last night I met Jen Bell and Thomas (I can still call her by her maiden name because that's how she identifies herself in messages, and anyway I don't think I could stop if I tried) down at the Shakespeare Tavern for The Compleat Works of William Shakespeare [Abridged]. In general theater-going doesn't jive with my consuming fear that someone, somewhere, will embarrass him- or herself, and thus me. Last night, though, I relaxed in capable hands. Few of the bits fell short of funny, and a number of them far exceeded it. I gave myself a headache laughing, which is a very good sign (and one of many reasons I take Advil prophylactically2 before nights out).
There was also one spellbinding moment, during the Hamlet run-through. While the actors were dismissing various parts of the play as inessential (they skipped most of "To be or not to be" and "Neither a borrower nor a lender be," for instance, and performed the play-within-a-play with sock puppets), they determined that "What a piece of work is man" had to be done. One actor stepped up (not the actor playing Hamlet), with the air of someone checking "cat food" off his grocery list. Then he slipped into dramatic acting so fast we were all caught unawares, still waiting for the joke. There was total, reverent silence while he spoke, as if he were pronouncing a blessing. For someone like me, who always devotes 30% of her mind to watching the audience react, it was magic to suddenly fall back to earth at "Man delights not me" and only then realize I'd been gone. Granted, I attend plays only at long intervals, but I have never witnessed anything like that before.
Then he was gone, to strip off his sweatpants backstage, haul on a skirt, and continue his portrayal of Ophelia as a "crazy as hay-ell" bedraggled lady with a sugary Southern accent. He was also quite good as Juliet (helium voice and Silly String), Lavinia (two Dixie cups and some medical tape), & so on. Unsurprisingly, I find myself enamored with Shakespeare, for the moment. How convenient that my Tuesday/Friday tutoree has released me from her service! A combination of circumspection and the language barrier leaves me uncertain whether she's unhappy with my teaching or just really busy, but who cares, if I can find something else interesting to do, such as… attending a lot of plays? There's a MARTA station and a parking garage within 2 blocks of the theater, and thanks to permissive parenting I can easily afford the tickets.
Meanwhile, it was a quiet week at work, as the boss has been off in the wilderness and away from phones. I spent a lot of my time bored on the internet, but I also got to do some more project design work on Microsoft Visio. It turns out I adore making flowcharts, especially flowcharts for things that don't as yet exist. My crowning accomplishment for the week was discovering, while proofreading a proposal, that it was due 24 hours earlier than we'd assumed. I took credit for the save and somehow avoided incurring any of the extra work. In punishment (it preceded the crime, but justice has that right) the unseasonably cool, dry weather has broken, plunging Atlanta into a typical July steam bath. I suppose owners of lakefront property are comforted by the daily rainfall, but it's mostly five-minute squalls that exfoliate more than they moisturize and don't lower the humidity at all. Windows closed, air conditioner finally on: summer has beaten me, the wench.
1. Shut it, Nina. I swear.
2. Spell check recommends: "prophylactic ally." Rachel recommends: retiring the term "significant other" in favor of something more entertaining.
Since you never can tell where you'll wind up when you dare to leave your house, now seems like a good time to catch y'all up on recent adventures. Such as: I had to shop for business clothes with which to present a properly stenographic appearance at these meetings. I started at Macy's, the site of earlier successes, and my faithfulness was rewarded: I found a skirt and shirt and blazer (not to be worn at the same time), and also bought a jacket with a big graphic print that I'll probably take back when I remember that I never wear jackets. However, four out of three ain't bad. Sadly, stores are already into fall collections, which means a good deal of brown and plaids and other fox-hunting colors - and that, in turn, means brown shoes. I went to Marshall's, Wal*mart, Rack Room Shoes, and DSW (everything on one stretch of Mansell) and found ONE pair of brown shoes in size 11. RRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHH. Shoe shopping has all the tedium, expense, and vague, pervasive discomfort as a trip to the gynecologist, but at least the icky doctor stocks a full range of specula.1
Moving back up to the seat of intellect: last night I met Jen Bell and Thomas (I can still call her by her maiden name because that's how she identifies herself in messages, and anyway I don't think I could stop if I tried) down at the Shakespeare Tavern for The Compleat Works of William Shakespeare [Abridged]. In general theater-going doesn't jive with my consuming fear that someone, somewhere, will embarrass him- or herself, and thus me. Last night, though, I relaxed in capable hands. Few of the bits fell short of funny, and a number of them far exceeded it. I gave myself a headache laughing, which is a very good sign (and one of many reasons I take Advil prophylactically2 before nights out).
There was also one spellbinding moment, during the Hamlet run-through. While the actors were dismissing various parts of the play as inessential (they skipped most of "To be or not to be" and "Neither a borrower nor a lender be," for instance, and performed the play-within-a-play with sock puppets), they determined that "What a piece of work is man" had to be done. One actor stepped up (not the actor playing Hamlet), with the air of someone checking "cat food" off his grocery list. Then he slipped into dramatic acting so fast we were all caught unawares, still waiting for the joke. There was total, reverent silence while he spoke, as if he were pronouncing a blessing. For someone like me, who always devotes 30% of her mind to watching the audience react, it was magic to suddenly fall back to earth at "Man delights not me" and only then realize I'd been gone. Granted, I attend plays only at long intervals, but I have never witnessed anything like that before.
Then he was gone, to strip off his sweatpants backstage, haul on a skirt, and continue his portrayal of Ophelia as a "crazy as hay-ell" bedraggled lady with a sugary Southern accent. He was also quite good as Juliet (helium voice and Silly String), Lavinia (two Dixie cups and some medical tape), & so on. Unsurprisingly, I find myself enamored with Shakespeare, for the moment. How convenient that my Tuesday/Friday tutoree has released me from her service! A combination of circumspection and the language barrier leaves me uncertain whether she's unhappy with my teaching or just really busy, but who cares, if I can find something else interesting to do, such as… attending a lot of plays? There's a MARTA station and a parking garage within 2 blocks of the theater, and thanks to permissive parenting I can easily afford the tickets.
Meanwhile, it was a quiet week at work, as the boss has been off in the wilderness and away from phones. I spent a lot of my time bored on the internet, but I also got to do some more project design work on Microsoft Visio. It turns out I adore making flowcharts, especially flowcharts for things that don't as yet exist. My crowning accomplishment for the week was discovering, while proofreading a proposal, that it was due 24 hours earlier than we'd assumed. I took credit for the save and somehow avoided incurring any of the extra work. In punishment (it preceded the crime, but justice has that right) the unseasonably cool, dry weather has broken, plunging Atlanta into a typical July steam bath. I suppose owners of lakefront property are comforted by the daily rainfall, but it's mostly five-minute squalls that exfoliate more than they moisturize and don't lower the humidity at all. Windows closed, air conditioner finally on: summer has beaten me, the wench.
1. Shut it, Nina. I swear.
2. Spell check recommends: "prophylactic ally." Rachel recommends: retiring the term "significant other" in favor of something more entertaining.