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Overcoming the grumpies
Sep. 26th, 2011 06:59 pmI have no real reason to be down today, yet felt so for decent parts of it.
Some of it, probably, was another massive insomnia bout last night- we were both up for at least part of it. Some, also, just another Manic Monday of useless court hearings and phone tag exchanges with various and sundries. Throw in the house getting up to 77F during the early afternoon today (the AC's back on), and a mess of friends and neighbors getting/sharing/experiencing bad news or words or attitudes, and it all becomes understandable.
Here were- are- my antidotes:
* Everyone still basking in the improbability of yesterday's Bills upset victory. Even if you don't care a whit about football, this was a true triumph of the underdog. Although the stadium PA made the ironic postgame selection of New England Nation's anthem of Sweet Caroline to serenade the Hoodie and Marcia Brady to the exit, I was more mindful of a Melanie Doane song: "Hey! Goliath! You're no bigger, you're no bigger than me!" All over town today, I heard people sharing their "where-were-you-when" moments of being part of the victory.
* Sprinkling in, among those useless court appearances, a stop at Kleinhans Music Hall to get tickets for the John Pizzarelli jazz concert on Saturday night.
* And said concert is a belated anniversary pressie for the two of us, which we celebrate today for the 24th time. Although we both had fatigue and stress and passed-on bad news in the past few days, we're SO much better facing it together. Please join me in expressing love for this remarkable woman I've been blessed to share my life with:)
* Finished one of the two seven-day books I finally got from the library on Friday, and am delving into the second- a timely choice, given recent posts here about the ill effects of intolerance and the need to overcome it. Earlier this year, I posted about, and bemoaned, the use in recent fiction of 9/11 images or occurrences as "props" in tales otherwise unrelated to the tragedy. Back then, comparing the potential for a Vonnegut-like tome about this "war," I commented that "Someday, someone will write the Slaughterhouse-Five of 9/11." This book may not be that book, but it's a heckuva lot closer:
The author has stated that she does not even consider it to be a "9/11 novel," as it mostly deals with the aftermath and its lingering aftereffects of prejudice and judgment: a fictional NYC contest to develop "The" 9/11 Memorial, with the designers anonymous to the jury, winds up being "won" by a US citizen artist named Mohammad. Non-hiliarity ensues, and, so far, has ensued brilliantly. I may well knock off both of these books in the seven days allotted.
Some of it, probably, was another massive insomnia bout last night- we were both up for at least part of it. Some, also, just another Manic Monday of useless court hearings and phone tag exchanges with various and sundries. Throw in the house getting up to 77F during the early afternoon today (the AC's back on), and a mess of friends and neighbors getting/sharing/experiencing bad news or words or attitudes, and it all becomes understandable.
Here were- are- my antidotes:
* Everyone still basking in the improbability of yesterday's Bills upset victory. Even if you don't care a whit about football, this was a true triumph of the underdog. Although the stadium PA made the ironic postgame selection of New England Nation's anthem of Sweet Caroline to serenade the Hoodie and Marcia Brady to the exit, I was more mindful of a Melanie Doane song: "Hey! Goliath! You're no bigger, you're no bigger than me!" All over town today, I heard people sharing their "where-were-you-when" moments of being part of the victory.
* Sprinkling in, among those useless court appearances, a stop at Kleinhans Music Hall to get tickets for the John Pizzarelli jazz concert on Saturday night.
* And said concert is a belated anniversary pressie for the two of us, which we celebrate today for the 24th time. Although we both had fatigue and stress and passed-on bad news in the past few days, we're SO much better facing it together. Please join me in expressing love for this remarkable woman I've been blessed to share my life with:)
* Finished one of the two seven-day books I finally got from the library on Friday, and am delving into the second- a timely choice, given recent posts here about the ill effects of intolerance and the need to overcome it. Earlier this year, I posted about, and bemoaned, the use in recent fiction of 9/11 images or occurrences as "props" in tales otherwise unrelated to the tragedy. Back then, comparing the potential for a Vonnegut-like tome about this "war," I commented that "Someday, someone will write the Slaughterhouse-Five of 9/11." This book may not be that book, but it's a heckuva lot closer:
The author has stated that she does not even consider it to be a "9/11 novel," as it mostly deals with the aftermath and its lingering aftereffects of prejudice and judgment: a fictional NYC contest to develop "The" 9/11 Memorial, with the designers anonymous to the jury, winds up being "won" by a US citizen artist named Mohammad. Non-hiliarity ensues, and, so far, has ensued brilliantly. I may well knock off both of these books in the seven days allotted.