Chronicles Continued

Two in one day. It began as I stood second in line to check out at the drug store. Lost in thought as to whether had I purchased a good detergent, it was then I noticed that there was a pause in the process, as the two young women ahead of me,  were being photographed by their friend in the check out line. Wow, I thought, how exciting your life is that you have to mark being in the drugstore. Another facebook entry. And then I had another look at the two being photographed, and recognized that one was an Oscar winner. After the photo was taken, and the young women left, the Oscar winner was stuck so I magnanimously said, “Oh please go ahead”. she demurred, but I insisted. I thought spare her more encounters. She did, I did and life continued. This evening at the theatre I had a great seat in a small theatre when two young women came and sat on the two chairs in front of me. One looked familiar. It always takes me longer than the average person to do the recognition bit, and then I realized the familiar one was not the daughter of a long ago acquaintance, but the daughter of a former president. No one would have noticed, as no one had, until the theatre manager came by to ‘introduce herself and welcome her to the theatre’. Then slowly but surely the buzz began to pick up. Mercifully we were saved by the bell.

Two little, older women were sitting across the aisle from me on the bus.  It looked as if they had cleaned the hearth together and wiped their foreheads in unison. Then it dawned.

At the theatre tonight, two young women sitting behind me, constantly whispered to each other during the performance. I finally said shusssh.. when it was becoming intolerable. I really wanted to say something as I was leaving, as in “this isn’t television in your apartment”, but that seemed so ineffectual. It left me wondering if today’s youth, so tuned into the immediate, and always blabbing, on facebook, and all other social sites, have no tradition of the theatre of being quiet; letting the words speak for themselves. It is as they say, with instant communication, reviews go out before reviews are written. It was a sad commentary, I thought.

Sitting on the subway, overhearing a 20 something woman, chatting with a 20 something man about their work place a bar. It was primarily about who was sleeping with whom. ‘But he’s married’, she said, to which he replied ‘Guess he doesn’t remember.’ A day later at another establishment was overhearing two young slender stylish blondes chatting. About men. About the appointments made by men with them for work related issues. ‘Why’, says one to the other, ‘Does it always have to be at 8 and for dinner; why not noon for lunch?’ ‘And’, replies the other, ‘The married men are the worst!’ They continued their chatting about the friend who married to move up and was already flirting outrageously with a new conquest in front of husband. Some of these young people have sense.

Well, the City was prepared and Friday night it looked like a zinger.  But Saturday dawned, the sun came out, the sidewalks were shoveled by all the immigrant workers, the streets were plowed by the garbage trucks outfitted with plows,  the stores and restaurants were open, electricity, gas and water operative…life continued.  It was actually warmer on Saturday.  Now Sunday, it is colder again, and the residue of snow storm is scene, but little felt.  There were crews today, removing the slush puddles from the sidewalk gutters, where they meet the streets, so we peds don’t have to get our feet wet.  The Mayor is the Man.

Sunday, 10 February:  New Year for the Chinese Community. It is the year of the Snake. In China town, they are selling lots of red decorations, special sticky rice pies – which are brown with sugar- special cookies.  There is an air of anticipation. Children receive money in red envelopes, in fact, red is the color du jour.  Some prices for fruits and veggies are a bit more expensive, as families spend more money in celebration of New Year’s eve.  As the New Year is based on a lunar/solar calendar, the date changes each year.  The choice of the animal represented also has an effect on the luck anticipated.

It’s after midnight on Friday night. As I look out the window, it is that harsh winter landscape. The flat road is slippery, although the snow plow sanitation trucks are coming through regularly to keep the street flat. The wind has been blustery and whipping, which makes it even colder and wilder. It is a dry, light snow, so the tree branches are not weighted down, but it stings when it hits your eyes. The lightness also means that where there are wires – not in the City – the branches won’t break and fall on them.  I am off to bed. We’ll see what the morning brings. My neighbors and I have already met and begun the dig in process, sitting by the fire in one of the apartments where the fireplace has been repaired.

No longer do I fill the bathtub with water. During Sandy discovering that I have water and gas I can forgo the water pre-set. Now I bought small ice creme containers for someone who is coming to stay in my apartment. I never purchase ice creme for obvious reasons. Am I subconsciously hoping the storm will take out the electricity and I’ll have to eat it, as it is going to melt anyway? Heavens!!

This ‘thought place’ came to be, because I believed all the weather reports of a dire storm; filled the bathtub with water, washed the bed sheets and the hair, stocked up on veggies and fruit, bought flowers… and nothing happened. Then a year later, this past November, another storm warning was heralded. I did all of the above all over again, but didn’t believe it was going to happen. Along came Sandy. So here I am again today. The English Telegraph, headlines it as a ‘historic storm’ -despite the fact that it has yet to occur. So I’ve done again, all the pre-sets.. for the simple reason, it was available to me to do so… but will there be a storm? Will the dozens of candles I have, be necessary? Stay tuned!

The Invitation from an artist friend read as follows:

‘The Analytical Psychology Club of New York presents Collage-a tool to visualize your innerself [sic]. Collage is an art form that involves combining images, drawings, words and other materials into an esthetic whole by glueing them together on a surface.  The term collage comes from the French coller, ‘ to glue’…. Because the artist’s choice of imagery and materials is very personal it can offer insights into thoughts and associations that are often hidden in our subconscious.’

[The Analytical Psychology Club of New York, formed in 1936 the purpose being to provide a gathering place for self discovery, the key to Jungian therapy.  Membership can be yours if you have completed 50 hours of Jungian-oriented therapy and have been recommended by a qualified therapist.  Most Club programs and events however are open to the public.  from their webpage]

So I signed on for the Saturday, Collage workshop from 10-4 guided by my artist friend.

Today I received the following email from her:

‘Hello again,

For those of you who were interested in the collage workshop, I just learned that the Saturday program is going to be deferred because of some internecine issues at the Psychologists’ Club.  I don’t know the whole back story, just that there is one. Hopefully the workshop will occur some time in the future.’

Now is that priceless or What!