Not so plain

On the way to see The Little Mermaid musical, (which was fantastic) Irish noticed that girls were walking by and staring at my feet. At first he thought they were checking out the tattoo on my ankle but I surmised that they were in fact, scoping out my shoes. As I tell Irish this, he glances down, then looks back up at me and says with honest confusion, "But they're so plain!" Oh how I laughed...peal after peal of laughter.

Now I'm not a shoe-maniac so I can see how to a male, the shoes I had on were"plain." They're black with a slight heel. However, to the female eye, the height of the heel matters (kitten, flat, stiletto..) the type of black (matte, patent, leather..) the back of the shoe (slingback, full-back..) As I laughingly explained all of this to Irish, I watched as his features crumpled in bewilderment and dismay. He had no idea that shoes were defined with such precision and he really couldn't have cared less. Come to think of it, most of what females wear can be divided into categories, and then sub categories and even sub sub categories. It's ludicrous, yes, but sometimes it's nice to be able to define something - anything - so distinctly.

25 on 25

Happy Birthday to meeee! So I'm 25 today...my golden/lucky/special/whatever birthday. It's only 11am but I'm having a great day so far. Lots of birthday wishes from friends and coworkers and a good sushi dinner to look forward to tonight. But the cherry on my cupcake (or however the saying goes..) is The Little Mermaid musical that Irish is taking me to tonight. That's right. The Little Mermaid musical. Ariel and Flounder and the singing French chef...YES. I was terribly obsessed with the movie as a teeny tot so to see the musical will probably bring me to tears. Laugh all you like! I'll be starry eyed with joy.

A good book

It's pretty incredible that a book can do so much to lift my spirits. It doesn't even have to be a particularly cheery story - if there's a solid plot and excellent writing, I instantly feel better about myself. It's like I have something to look forward to at the end of the day when I'm nestled in bed, or on my subway ride home from work. I like taking little dips out of a good book. Read a few sentences here, maybe a few paragraphs there...and then setting it down feeling as if I've just had a cool sip of water on a hot, dry day.

My current infatuation is with My Mistress' Sparrow is Dead, a collection of love stories compiled by the awe-inspiring Jeffrey Eugenides. I'm about 5 stories in, and I've already felt horror, joy, revulsion, compassion. They're not purely stories about love between a man and a woman, but love between families...friends. As Eugenides says, "...love imparts a profound wistfulness, in which the evanescence of love expands to suggest the fragility of life and time and memory itself..."

The production of this book is a wonder. The pages smell crisp and clean, yet somehow with a hint of age. It's hardcover but the artwork is printed directly onto the front cover, foregoing the hassle of a jacket flap. It's just a beautiful book overall and one of the best gifts I've ever received.

My antidote to a grain of salt

So I've posted on xanga.com for years. Probably close to 8 of them. And I don't know why, but I'm now inspired to move my thoughts elsewhere. Isn't that a gorgeous picture? Being a California native, I'm endlessly enthralled by fall foliage. I mean just look at those colors.

Anyway, lately I've been thinking about how to return to a more credulous and innocent age; where I'm willing and able to see the beauty that's in the people and places that surround me. In my teens, I was all doom and gloom, convinced in humankind's inherent hideousness. Now that I'm (presumably) wiser, I realize that there just aren't enough hours in the day to spend it griping. That's not to say that I'm NEVER going to complain about anything. I'm human after all. And I do have my various objections. (Sharks, hippies, chocolate milk - to name a few) I just want to approach life knowing that uncertain terms are the norm. That "a grain of salt" is a cop-out. That surprises can be both terrible and wonderful. That life is, in the end, perishable and for that reason, so indelibly valuable.