[es-pree de less-ka/-iay] (idiom) A witty remark that occurs to you too late, literally on the way down the stairs. The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations defines esprit de l'escalier as, "An untranslatable phrase, the meaning of which is that one only thinks on one's way downstairs of the smart retort one might have made in the drawing room."
Today is my Dad's birthday, so happy birthday! I'm not sure how he feels about peonies, but I like them. This flower was blooming right before I left. Our yard is too shady to get too many peony blooms, and I was happy for the couple we got this year.
I got 6 rolls of film developed today. I love that excitement right before you rip open the outer envelope, holding the photos. I always quickly flip through the stack - usually in the car before I drive off - and am always initially disappointed. Then, when I get home or to wherever I'm going, I slowly go through the roll, remembering the shots. And then I tend to find ones I like. Stories and photos to follow. Right now I'm going to go suffer quietly with my cold.
This polaroid turned out a little blurry. I didn't mean it to, and would have taken another if it wasn't my last shot in the pack. But it's very fitting for my current state of being: blurry. School's out people. I just turned in my final paper. Thank god. I'm worn out and am so happy this quarter is done.
My brother has been in town (he actually just left this evening). While I don't enjoy sharing a bathroom with him, it's always fun to have him around. He collaborated in an art project with his old roommate from art school and some other friends, and there was a big show for it Saturday. (It even scored a write-up in the paper - including a mention of the brother!) It was a really cool video collaboration that was projected onto the windows of a building. About a hundred or so people were sitting on the sidewalk outside watching.
Anyhow, tomorrow I will be running around getting things together as I leave in the evening. Thanks for all of the book suggestions. I have tried to find some used copies and have come up short. I deeply miss the used book stores of Chicago. There are no good ones here. Boo. I will probably pick up one or two, though.
I don't know if I will be blogging while I'm in Europe. At this moment I'm leaning to no, as I think I'd like a break, but I'm currently exhausted and that might be factoring in to that. Ten to one, I'll want to write. Either way, I hope you all enjoy your June.
Sunday was my golden birthday - my age is now the same as my birth date. These photos are of my twin brother and I on our first birthday. My mother was of the "push them out of the nest as soon as they can and they'll learn" ilk. Plus she was exhausted with twins, so on our first birthday she gave us both bowls of mashed potatoes and our own spoons and let us have at it. She figured we'd figure it out and be feeding ourselves in no time. She was right.
I had a great birthday - I think it's my best birthday in recent memory. I went to New York and visited with some great old friends - one who was a supremely excellent hostess. I ate so very well. I walked so very far. I saw a favorite band play, and they were so very rocking. I also got to meet two blog friends who were generous and kind and fun as I thought they'd be. I am so lucky for the friends I have (new and old) - they make my life much better.
I'm feeling a little overwhelmed my the kindness I've met through this space (and flickr). I was nervous prior to meeting up with Kathleen - I joked with my friend Natasha that it was like a blind date. But I realize now it's like meeting pen pals. You are already friends, you've just never met in person. Kathleen is just as I thought she'd be, and I wish I hadn't suggested meeting at the MoMA, because we were plagued by crowds and it would have been better if we had just found a spot to chat over tea and cookies or something. It was great meeting her and M.A. Peel. I always feel like I'm tripping over myself to talk - I jump around conversation topics because we have such little time together and I have so much to say!
When I finally got back today I had two packages from another blog friend, Meg. Again, I'm just overwhelmed by the generosity and friendship I have found. Thank you all, new, old and in-between friends. Here's to another great year with new adventures.
I knew the party was a good one when I realized the next morning I had broken my toe and couldn't remember how or when. It's purple and sore and I think it was crushed while I was dancing barefoot late in the evening. Five of my favorite people drove in from Chicago and a handful of old Ohio friends drove in from Columbus and Akron. The party was hopping and the poetry was read with gusto. My dear friend George came dressed to kill, with an accent perfected for his recitation.
Somehow, what with the poor lighting and my increasing drunkedness, I managed some good photos. Below are a couple. More up today and tomorrow on flickr.
My trip to San Francisco was great. I had a wonderful time with my cousin. We went out to see her brother and his family, as well as re-learn a favorite card game from childhood. The weather was perfect - in the 50s and sunny. I also got some quality time with my friend Stacey. I ate so well. So well. More on that later.
These are polaroids of my cousin's balcony. It was so energizing to be in a new city, and to be around such positive people. I do love traveling.
I'm more or less packed for my trip to San Francisco tomorrow. I'm feeling much better, though I remain fairly congested and don't have much of a voice (though why I'm not sure). I'm bringing three cameras. Which is ridiculous. (For those dying to know, my Nikon N80, my holga and my polaroid spectra.) I just got a new lens for my Nikon - it's a Nikor 28-80mm - so now I can zoom in a bit and go a little wide. I'm excited to test it out.
Speaking of getting ready, my parents and I started getting ready for our Burns' Night Supper next weekend, in honor of the esteemed Scottish poet, whose birthday is next Friday. Mom found her box of decorations, some errant whisky stashed some odd place and Dad's tam o'shanter. I figured some polaroids were in order. Enjoy and have a great weekend! Thanks again for the health well-wishes!
Here's an old photo of my Dad and twin brother trimming the Christmas tree. The note on the back says 1982, so my brother is one in the photo, and my sister does not yet exist. My family Christmases have been lacking the spirit they used to. This makes me sad, but it's just where we are right now. In between traditions. I'm hoping we can shake the malaise before too long. I'm afraid babies are the only thing that's going to revive it, though. And I am certainly not ready for that.
I returned from a hot, slightly exhausting, family trip to Wisconsin late Wednesday to find the cable and internet out. The roommate and I may just cancel it since we're canceling it so soon anyway, so I may be without my beloved internet until I move. Which means you all will have to wait to see the bajillion polas and other film I took while away. Some of these polas are seriously cute, and hopefully my 35mm film turns out.
My trip was exhausting due to some family drama (that seems to have sorted itself out in the best possible way) and the fact that there were at least 5 kids 5 and under chasing me around. "Can you push me on the swing?" "Take my picture in the tree!" "Claire! Where you going?" "Can you sit next to me?" Be careful what you wish for people. I wanted the kids to like me and then I had an entourage I couldn't shake.
The official countdown til moving day has begun, plus I have one more work week left. And the packing? I keep saying it starts tonight. Let's hope I'm not fooling myself.
Oh, and guess what? I get to *finally* meet Jennifer of Saying Yes. Sunday promises pie and some good talking. I am lucky indeed.
Saturday is my Dad's 60th birthday. My mom turns the same in August. It's mind boggling to me that they are 60. They make 60 youthful. I'm headed home for a big party at my grandparents with many of my extended family. I keep missing these and am looking forward to seeing how big my little cousins have gotten.
Plus it's supposed to be 76 degrees and I really want to go swimming. So much so that this song has been stuck in my head this week:
My roommate just heard that playing and said, "Oh honey, are you listening to REM? Is anything wrong?" While the song is sad, I find it more nostalgic than depressing. It makes me long for endless summers with not much to do, with just a bike and a pool pass.
I got tagged by Adorable Girlfriend over at the Republic of Dogs to share eight things about myself.
1. I have never broken a bone (knock on wood) but have gotten stitches twice on my face (one on my cheek: dog bite, entirely my fault; one on my hairline: knocked into a tall radiator when I was about 6 or 7 by my brother, entirely his fault).
2. I got him back, though, by throwing an etch-a-sketch at his head a couple of years later. Which occurred during our babysitter's first ever time babysitting, just as my parents were sitting down to an expensive meal out. Neither of those things occurred again for a very long time.
3. In high school I could eye a pica. I bragged about this once the first day of orientation at college and every time I see the person I did this to (which is now very rare), he brings it up. Now you can bring it up too.
4. The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. I love a parade. And fireworks. The town I grew up in had the best parade in the city and one of the best community celebrations. It was always beastly hot, but fun.
5. I once held a(n elaborate) funeral for a dead beta fish to fulfill a class assignment. (We had to repent sins we committed — we had been reading The Scarlet Letter and I admitted to accidental, but chronic, fish killing.) It included the class making a processional to the girls restroom for the end of the eulogy and the flushing. Greatest waste of 15 minutes ever.
6. My cousin Hasia and I spent hours of our summers as teens playing Spite and Malice that we re-named after our sisters, Mimi and Alix. Because we were nice.
7. The most hungover I've ever been I blame on an Australian grandmother. The next day I spent 6 hours in a small windowless room overseeing the counting of hundreds of pencils by women who spoke no English, and me no Arabic. It was brutal and even now I don't like to joke about it.
8. I turn to baking and facial masks as stress relievers (not at the same time).
I'm not tagging anyone. I could barely get the brainpower to come up with this list and it's possible none of this is news. I may post something in the next week, but if I do it will be at newcritics, where I'm sorely overdue for something. I have two half written posts already. Besides that, I probably won't be posting 'til next weekend. Happy holiday!
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