Last night I went to see a great show called Top Ten People of the Millenium Sing Their Favorite Schubert Lieder ( http://www.toptenpeople.com/ ). You should check it out, if you live in the New York area. Or even if not.

It was recently reviewed favorably in the NY Times. As if that couldn't be topped, we at Notes From Above Ground give it "two thumbs up." Not that there are two of us, but fortunately I happen to have two thumbs. Which you can't see right now, but just trust that they're up. Except when I'm typing, but only because I have to use my thumbs to press the space bar.

There just aren't enough shows these days that feature: 1) shirtless men singing in German 2) on-stage wine drinking 3) people obliquely trying to unravel the meaning of existance (a.k.a. trying to get laid) and 4) live goldfish.

Last time I was in a room where all of these elements were so effectively combined, I was in a gay bar in Heidelberg (really).

A notable performance by all the actors, but the one who's been tragically overlooked is the one who played "the goldfish." He (she?) was doing this method-acting thing that was a bit much, but overall, very poignant.

- posted by Marguerite @ 4:39 PM

 
I haven't been in the mood to write much lately, because I've been suffering from PWS. It's very much like PMS (just turn over the "M"). The symptoms are strikingly similar, only, instead of a few days, it takes place for a few months directly before a wedding.

As I learned the other day, I'm about to crash a Martian space craft. My high-strung, yet very well-intentioned father sent me an email with a full range of bold, italicised, underlined warnings, infused with exclamatory punctuation!!!!

An actual excerpt:

"... always remember the billion dollars that was wasted on the spacecraft to Mars that crashed into the planet instead of going into orbit because somebody didn't check to see exactly what system of measurement was to be used in the programming. As it turned out one group of programmers used English linear calculations to position the spacecraft on the approach to Mars, and another group of programmers used metric calculations to tell it how to go into orbit. Unfortunately, the guidance system only understood the English system, and it took the kilometer instructions it received from the metric programming and translated the Kilometers into the same number of miles. As a result, the spacecraft dug a big hole in Mars instead of going into low orbit."

This was inspired by the fact that, among other things, I have not yet secured a ring bearer pillow. Or a cake cutter. Or an inter-plantetary GPS device, calibrated to the metric system.



- posted by Marguerite @ 3:12 PM

 
I don't have much time for bloggage today, or should I say this evening? Weeks are going by very quickly. Unfortunately, I've been busy doing actual work at my place of employment. By which I mean I've been planning my wedding.

Before I get into that, let me just say how much I love Canadians. They are so cool. I am officially a Canadophile. Which sounds like I've been touching Canadians inappropriately, even though that is not the case.

However, Canadians clearly don't love Freedom as much as we do. By Freedom of course I mean "Wal-Mart."

"By our efforts, we have lit a fire as well, a fire in the minds of men."

- George W. Bush (as quoted by P, who actually reads the news) in the Inaugural Address to the Residents of Happy Candy World, where he apparently resides.

We have lit a fire, in many cases actual fires. Not only the minds of men, but also in the more combustible homes and oil pipelines and shoe repair shops of men.

It reminds me of the quote, "Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a night. Light him on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life." - (can't remember who.)

"My dream is to someday see something written down, followed by a little dash with my name after it, meaning that I was being quoted." - Marguerite

If not for the cold weather, I would declare asylum in Canada. But unfortunately, I am far too fond of warm weather. Of course, as I say this, it is 9 degrees (yes, that's farenheit) in New York City, which makes that argument kind of irrelevant.

I think the cold weather might make people more sane. As a Southerner, I feel pretty sure this is true. If only the South weren't so crazy, it really has lovely weather.

Speaking of the South and craziness, my own native city, Jacksonville, is getting ready for the Most Important Event in the Entire History of Mankind. Yes, the Superbowl. They've been talking about it for about 10 years now, and it's nigh upon us. At the airport, there's a digital sign counting down the days and hours until this sacred event. Even if Jesus, in all His glory, were to return and take only the people of The Bold New City of the South (that's our motto - not kidding), as most residents of Jacksonville believe will be the case, it could not be more exciting. Unless, of course, He knew how to punt.



- posted by Marguerite @ 3:58 PM

 
I have a lot to do at work today, so naturally it seems like a good time to make a blog entry.

Tomorrow, I'm moving into my new apartment. This is very exciting, because, for the first time in 10 full years, I will have a working oven! In my most recent apartment, the kitchen sink was directly in front of the oven, hence making it impossible to open the oven door more than 1.5 inches. When I asked the landlord about this, he gave me an utterly perplexed look that seemed to say, what, don't you know how to order take out?

Friends who live in places that are not NYC have gently reminded me that working ovens tend to be standard in most parts of the world, even parts of the world where other luxuries, like toilets, are not necessarily a part of every home. In New York, ovens are more of a quaint novelty, like a bidet or an electric asparagus crisper.

Speaking of unnecessary household items, the fiance and I finally registered for wedding gifts (Crate and Barrel; Bed Bath and Beyond - please feel free to send asparagus tongs). We went to the new Bed Bath and Beyond across the street from Lincoln Center. They give you a little scanning gun, and you zap everything you think you might want.

Think big, said Linda, our "bridal consultant." If you even think you might want it, she said, in a soft hypnotic voice, just go ahead and scan it. She smiles. Now, you'll want to sign up for lots and lots of stuff.

Right off the bat, we were not-so-gently directed to the "keepsakes" section. You'll need to get a ring stand, and toasting goblets and .... I was struck by the irony of using the word "need" in direct proximty to a Waterford toothpick holder, but this was utterly lost on the Team Members at Bed Bath and Beyond. Fortunately, I already have all that crap anyway.

As we left the desk with the gun, Paul and I scoffed. We weren't buying into The Man's ideas about capitalistic excess! We're just going to pick out a few things and go home. Linda seemed to have mistaken us for rabid, greedy consumeristic people who measure their human worth against the combined weight of their household appliances. In other words, she assumed that we were Americans.

Paul, like most guys, took a seek-and-destroy approach to the whole shopping extravaganza, working as if there were a digital clock ticking onscreen, a la "Supermarket Sweep." First off, flatware! Paul picked up the first fork he came to, examined it, and decided that it was definitely a fork. A winner! Zap. We scanned it. Onward, ho!

We looked at some glasses. Those'll do! Paul says. I tried to gently remind him that we should probably think carefully about these things. It's important to get stuff you're still going to like in 10 years, when you're throwing it at each other's heads.

Next came the cappucino makers. Paul's eyes started to glaze over, the as the scent of second-hand capitalism started to make the things around us look a little bit strange .... more - necessary. (Much like the effects of reading bridal magazines. Or smoking crack.)

I've always wanted an cappucino maker, Paul sighed.

Don't go towards the light! Stay with me! I wanted to shout. I happen to know for a fact that nobody, in the entire history of humanity, has ever used a home cappucino maker more than once. After the first use, one finds that in the time it takes to make a cappucino at home and then clean the machine, one could go down to the corner coffee shop, get a cappucino, drink it, go shopping, do their taxes, and come home. AND YET ... I'm pretty sure there is a law in certain states that a couple is not legally married if they do not register for a cappucino maker.

I call them one-hit wonder appliances. Things that, theoretically, seem like a really good idea, but in practice loose their novelty after about one use.

Examples include:

bread maker
juicer
ice cream maker
fondue set
fruit dehydrator
food processor
any exercise-related contraption
Anything endorsed by someone who used to be on "Knot's Landing"

The list goes on ...

Anyway, several hours later, we'd zapped tons of crap. Things we don't need, or want, or even have anywhere to put in our new apartment, which has only 3 closets that the real estate agent aptly described as "decorative."

Like a Waterford toothpick holder. Or an oven in New York.




- posted by Marguerite @ 9:20 AM

 
What's up with blogger putting in ridiculous advertizing links to random words, like moving and health insurance? That's really annoying.

- posted by Marguerite @ 2:02 PM

 
Okay, so it's been a while. I think blogging might have exceeded my attention span, which is roughly that of an autistic gerbil. Unfortunately, I haven't really been taking my ADD medicine lately, because my health insurance didn't kick in until January 1, and hence couldn't afford the zillion dollars it would cost to get prescription amphetamines out-of-pocket. So pardon me if I have a short attention sp

and in other news, I've been meaning to start a new blog, since the unemployment shtick is way out of date, and I'd kind of like to have a cool-looking blog. But alas, I haven't gotten around to it. My favorite excuses include: working; looking for apartments; moving; and planning wedding. Not that, realistically, I've spent that much time doing any of the above. But I HAVE spent a whole lot of time worrying about all of the above. And besides ...

... we actually found an apartment! It's on the (in muffled voice) uppereastside ... For those of you who aren't from New York, the Upper East Side of Manhattan is considered a bit snooty and uptight. But this is just an unfortunate misconception that people have, based on the fact that it is true. However, the place is suitably bizarre and magical (read: no closets). It's half a block from the park, on 92nd between Madison and 5th. Being near the park is great for running and walking dogs. Not that I actually run or have a dog, but you get the picture.

On the downside, we'll be surrounded by some "undesirable elements" (billionaires), but I'm working on building my tolerance. The thing is: we got a good deal. By NYC standards, the place isn't that expensive. Part of me is actually wondering if there's a catch - if the place is haunted, or the upstairs neighbors are involved in an all-tuba punk rock band (wait - that'd be cool), or if there's an infestation of radioactive "super rats" that are actually much smarter than humans, and hence can never be caught, so they live in a command station inside our walls where they are sending encrypted messages to Karl Rove, and other creatures from whatever planet is about to take over Earth.

For affordable rent in New York City, people are willing to put up with a lot. After 7 years in New York, I am pretty much un-scareable. Insane crack-addict neighbors/landlords, French transvestite roommates, basement apartments where "drain the sludge" is part of your lease agreement (true story for another time), no heat, no air conditioning, fire, pestilence, floods - at this point, it takes a lot to phase me. More, I like to think, than the Upper East Side can dish out. But that sounds dangerously like a challenge.



- posted by Marguerite @ 1:53 PM