(no subject)

Spent most of yesterday listening to the Gladiator soundtrack because rahalia_cat sent it to me and I finally got around to get getting to the post office. Like most Zimmer scores, it's bombastic nonsense, but I really like bombastic nonsense, and as such, am quite pleased.

This seems to be the year of learning to say no acting-wise. Considering the SM job I turned down, and saying not to some background work that would have made this week impossible. If there'd been a definite waiver in it, I would have done it, and I'm going to the open background call for the new Nicole Kidman flick this weekend (ah, signs of spring), but you know, whatever. It fills space. I am starting to get itchy for something to do though.

graene and her husband arrive for a visit tomorrow, and I have to sort of shake Sydney out of my head enough to remember what's interesting in NYC to tell people to do.

Counsellor got nominated for a Lucille Lortel award, which is lovely (and I saw John on a rerun of The West Wing last night), but none of this particularly puts the stars in motion in my universe.

I hate when people talk about pregant women and their "cute baby bumps." It just sounds so fucking jejune to me. I dunno why it drives me up the wall, but it just does. Can't we go with "big fabulous belly" or something that doesn't make me think of LegoWorld speed bumps?

poll inspired by boredom and too much soundtrack listening

What's your imperative?

(no subject)

I've been trying to convince myself that once it got warm, I wouldn't miss Sydney so much, that I was reacting merely to the lack of light here and the returning to NYC in the midst of what turned out to be an awful series of storms.

Was warm today. Gorgeous, and I still feel utterly out of sync. The water feels too far away (I live on an island, hello?), and I miss the necessity of ferries. I miss the ferocious and cheerful wind. The overabundance of avocados, more grilled chicken than you can possibly imagine (Oporto is the best drunk food ever) and coconut everything. I miss what little I saw of the film scene, which while in many ways as wanky and stupid as it is here, in many ways wasn't. I miss the light and the pacing.

I wasn't beautiful there in the ways I thought I'd be. But it was nice for that narrative to at least be a different one.

Getting off the subway today, I saw a fabulous fellow with a face I could only think of as very Australian. Black hair, green eyes, cheekbones and a half, pointy nose and one hell of a grin, trying on an awful 60s era silver hat thing that someone was selling with a lot of other thrifty junk on the corner. It was so funny, and fabulous, and not self-conscious or ubergay in any of the lame ways it could have been. He knew it was wickedly ridiculous and so did we. And that's all.

I'm not hating NYC anymore, like when I first came back, but it's really hard to make myself give a damn. I'm starting to get zen with it though; for everything though, it remains so unexpected to me, even if screechingly obvious to everyone else.