Today

Today I:

Woke up late after going to bed early.

Cooked French Toast.

Bought lipgloss and mascara at Sephora

Called people I haven't talked to in years to get phone numbers and directions.

Talked to Steven on his lunch break.

Ate chicken nuggets and a vanilla shake.

Drove to Miracle Mile.

Listened to my new Alanis Morissette CD.

Spent an hour with Stacey and Maria.

Ate Thai Food on La Cienega.

Drove back to Newport Beach.

Figured out Dawn's new camera and memory card transfer thingy.

Bought blush and eyeshadow for $1 at www.eyeslipsface.com.

Booked my flights home tomorrow.

The Getty

The Getty

Steven picked me up yesterday before noon and we drove into Beverly Hills to go to the Getty Museum. The traffic in was pretty bad, but never at a complete standstill.

We parked and rode the tram up to the top of the hill. It was fast enough, but then took 2 minutes to travel the last 6 inches of the trip. Very weird. The Getty is huge. First we had lunch in a little cafe. Great food. I had half of a turkey club with avacado and a bowl of clam chowder. And coffee. We both needed to wake up after being out late the night before.

The first building was the antiquities. There was a gorgeous Venus statue in marble. There was a gold laurel wreath from something like 300BC. It looked like it ought to be fake. And one statue of a saint made by a she for a change. The next room over had books from the 1200-1400. Hand written, gold leaf embossed, hand decorated with leaves, vines, calligraphy and illustrations. The second building had more paintings and statues - all breathtaking. I think my favorite from that one was a statue in black of Venus and Adonis. Another building had French furniture from around Louis XIV. It was so huge I didn't even look at individual pieces, just walked into the room and stared. And I found the bed that if I lived in the Getty a la The Mixed up Files of Basil E. Frankweiler, I would have slept in. The fourth building had a photography museum and upstairs were oil paintings. There was one by Millais, and two paintings by an artist I don't know, but I bought the postcards so that I can remember them and buy the print online. And one huge painting entitled Spring that had a thronging crowd pouring out of a castle in greek dress festooned in flowers. The paint was so thick it looked like it was standing out from the canvas. And Steven walked into a room of impressionists and the original of his favorite Van Gogh was there.

We went back for coats to go into the gardens. On the way we saw that the 405 was completely stopped, so we opted to stay at the museum and see the last building and a half we'd missed. By then my brain was on overload and I had nothing left but pithy comments (Wow. Unfortunate haircut on that guy). There was a German Newspaper satirist who had to flee the country for his criticism of Hitler. I'm sure it was cool but all I could do was stare. And the upstairs of the first building had massive amounts of Italian Iconography. Teri you would have loved it. There was a Titian there of the Penitant Magdalene which was beautiful. My brain couldn't do it justice.

The funniest painting we saw all day was a picture of the Holy Family. Mary was looking placid with her left breast exposed. The infant Jesus was standing beside her, with his arm casually thrown over her breast. It was so bizarre.

After the museum we went to dinner at Cucina Italiana on Sunset Boulevard. The food was wonderful, and we got to sit on the patio which was closed in and had heaters. My ravioli was wonderful, and we had a glass of chianti.

We killed time for an hour driving around, deciding to go somewhere else, backtracking, getting lost on the 101, heading back, and then finally his friends Sarah and Tricia called and told us to meet them in West Covina at Starbucks. We went and I got to meet his friends. And then had them take the obligatory pictures for Mom. Which I have to forward to him as well for his mother.

At midnight he drove me back home. It was a 14 hour day, and I am so exhausted, but it was worth every second. What a perfect day...

I'm in LA

I'm in LA

Last night I went out for a late drink with Steven and one of his friends. (I think her name was Tricia, but I'm bad with names) Today we're going into LA for lunch and then to the Getty.

(And nope, Sarah was who I was hanging out with. Tricia is a friend of theirs who's getting married in May. I met her when we went out for coffee)

A momentous day

A Momentous Day

I found my first gray hair...

packing

I'm packing.

And moving.

And looking for a job.

In case anyone was wondering.

Effective Immediately

Effective Immediately...I have resigned my job. This morning I got a clean bill of health from my doctor who thinks all of my bizarre hormonal issues, when you take the bigger picture of my dating history, are just my body's way of jump starting itself after shock, several years of depression, and then a couple more years of nothing much able to happen. So I went into my bosses this morning stating that I am good for my position, but perhaps a liability to the organization, and would like to leave before it becomes a problem, effective immediately. So I'm going to be moving into the bottom story of our old house, and looking for another job soon. I already have three days employment in the middle of this month helping do inventory at the local fabric store, and I'm in no way destitute right now. So I'm going to take a breather for a few days after all this stress, and then start looking for a job.

And that's the scoop.

Home Again

Home Again

I rolled back into town from Seattle yesterday just in time for work, then worked, ran errands, watched a movie, went to part of a band concert, picked up my mail, talked on the phone for several hours (should have gone to bed way earlier), and then printed out a few pages before I went to bed.

Things are coming to a head at work. I can't say anything more about it right now. Maybe I will after it's all over. Needless to say I'm struggling, angry and stressed out.

And I'm off to run errands.

Never Content to Leave Well Enough Alone

Never Content to Leave Well Enough Alone

I'm reading (again) Dorothy Sayers' Busman's Honeymoon. Sayers always allows Lord Peter to quote a tremendous amount of poetry and literature. And probably more than I know since I don't catch all the references. It's easy enough to realize what she's doing when she throws in a phrase in Latin or antiquated French (untranslatable on Babelfish).

My favorite reference was in Unnatural Death.

"But I never know when I am not spied upon," she said. "It is sheer spite, you know. Considering how my husband has behaved to me, I think it is monstrous - don't you?"
Her guest agreed that Mr. Forrest must be a monster, jesuitically, however, reserving the opinion that the monster might be a fabulous one.

A throwaway reference to Lewis Carrol's Alice in Wonderland:

"It didn't hurt him" the Unicorn said carelessly, and he was going on, when his eye happened to fall upon Alice: he turned round instantly, and stood for some time looking at her with an air of the deepest disgust

"What--is--this?" he said at last.

"This is a child!" Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice to introduce her,.. "We only found it to-day. It's as large as life, and twice as natural!"

"I always thought they were fabulous monsters!" said the Unicorn. "Is it alive?"...

Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: "Do you know, I always, thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I never saw one alive before!"

"Well, now that we have seen each other: said The Unicorn,"if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?

So a fabulous monster, is just a run of the mill human. Oh frabjous day!!

In Busman's Honeymoon, the title is a double play on words. Lord and Lady Peter have come to their new country home expecting to spend a pleasant honeymoon, but find the house shut up, with the owner clearly away. Later he is found murdered in the cellar. In one scene, Lord Peter and the constable entertain themselves while gathering evidence by working quotes into their conversation for the other to identify. Harriet, newly Lady Peter, joins in:

"That's what I was thinking," said Harriet. "A busman's honeymoon. Butchered to make a--"
"Lord Byron," cried Mr. Kirk, a little too promptly. "Butchered to make a busman's - no that doesn't seem right somehow."
"Try Roman," said Peter.

So what is a Busman's honeymoon? The real phrase is "busman's holiday" which the American Heritage Dictionary defines as, "NOUN: Informal A vacation during which one engages in activity that is similar to one's usual work." Word-Detective gives the common explaination of the phrase origen.

It is said that the drivers of horse-drawn omnibuses in London in the 19th century were so solicitous of their horses' well-being that the drivers would often spend their days off surreptitiously riding as passengers on their own trolleys to make sure that the substitute driver was treating their horses well. This practice was so widespread, it is said, that "busman's holiday" came to mean, as you say, "doing on your day off the same thing you do all week at work," with the added connotation that you are doing it out of the goodness of your heart.

He then goes on to say that most likely that story is an urban legend. The real word was "buzman's holiday."

Now the question is, "When is a pickpocket's holiday? When is he off-duty, not cruising for a score?" Simply put, never. Pickpockets are always working to some extent, and I think that's the point of "buzman's holiday." I think the phrase probably arose as a sardonic comment on the voracity of criminals, and gradually spread as a metaphor for anyone who seemed unable to "put down his tools." Only when the phrase reached the stratum of polite society where "buzmen" were unknown did the heart-warming story of "busmen" arise from an attempt to explain the origins of the phrase.

There is a second level, in the quote Harriet modifies,and Kirk picks up on.

"He heard it, but he heeded not . his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away;
He reck.d not of the life he lost, nor prize,
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians all at play,
There was their Dacian mother . he, their sire,
Butchered to make a Roman holiday."

Lord Byron: Childe Harold

Lord Byron is depicting Gladiators, who are killed to give the Roman masses something to do. Harriet is concerned that the discovery of a corpse in the basement will make Peter turn his honeymoon into a working vacation, hence, busman's holiday. These two phrases combined become the title, "Busman's Honeymoon."

Robert Jordan Strikes Again

Robert Jordan Strikes Again...

...with his longest prologue ever; 99 pages. I've read seven of them. I think it's stopped raining enough to go get my sewing machine out of the car and start quilting. My drunkards path is coming along nicely, except that I started by using up scraps, so I don't have an even number of anything. Exactly the look I'm going for, but harder to plan around when I'm buying new fabric.

What do you do when you get acquainted with someone that you can actually talk to. About something. Last night the most amazing thing happened. I called a guy in the middle of a documentary, and he turned it off to talk to me. Shocking! We talked about all sorts of things. Favorite movies, coffee shops, Cate Blanchett, Keanu Reaves, city life, poetry, one act plays, gender roles, and sea lions. It's a new concept. I'd always been in the situation of having to tone down to avoid the look of panic that comes when your average guy hears you go on about a book. (And rightfully so. I can go on for ages after it's actually interesting any longer) It's been lovely. And I love listening to him talk about things that interest him. And he thinks I'm smarter than him, but I think he is, so it works out nicely.

I'm going to go finish the last of my chocolate turtles and get to quilting. 100 channels of cable and I've run out of sitcom reruns to rot my brain. Tomorrow -- used bookstore, getting my eyebrows done, and maybe a pedicure.

Quilting Tonight, teaching tomorrow, then back to Seattle. Two nights. Then an over and back teaching, and Seattle for the rest of the weekend.