It’s still strange to have N. not at work. I find myself scolding him mentally: “Why did you let this happen to you?” Another person in our firm told me that he lost his job in the past couple of years, but took the option to work for a couple of months before his final day, and while he was doing that, he was offered another position within the company, so it would probably have been smart for N. not to rush out the door with such alacrity.
Tuesday nights I’ve quit going anywhere whatsoever, as I’ve concluded that one evening class per week (currently Thursdays) is plenty. My sleep schedule was suffering, likewise dream recall, and therefore lucid dreaming. It’s been a month without one.
Last Wednesday morning I rode my to work along Market St. per usual except for the sizeable and cheerful audience—crowds gathering two hours early for the Giants’ 11 a.m. victory parade. Barricades at the curb prevented them from plucking at my business attire. Apparently at least one family got in position at 1 a.m. I didn’t go out later for the parade itself, but hours of car horns and yelling were heard, and from my window I could see fans streaming toward Market St. When I went for a stroll at 3:30 p.m. I was surprised by how much the party was still in evidence, with confetti all over the ground and something orange to be seen no matter what direction you cast your eyes in. The entire downtown area smelled faintly sweaty, with notes of marijuana.
My most customary bike ride home from work takes me right behind the ballpark, and I wondered if anyone would be around that afternoon. Nothing was scheduled for that location, but I suspected people might be drawn there anyway, and quite a number of people were. One fellow was just standing there looking in at the empty field. The olfactory experience in the immediate area was nearly all marijuana, with hints of fish and cigar.
Last Thursday night I went to the Zen Center after work to sit in the zendo, followed by dinner with a small congenial group, and to go to my Somatic Experiencing class. We partnered up and practiced offering and receiving touch. This form of touching is not meant to move energy or work out kinks, but simply to provide a palpable sense of presence that can be relaxing for the receiver, and may help to release nervous system activation. The communication aspects were stressed, including that we should always explain what we’re planning to do and then say to the receiver, “Please let me know when you’re ready for me to do this,” so that the receiver is completely in charge.
Friday after work I went to Noe Valley for a haircut and on my way back picked up a delectable marinated tofu burrito with refried black beans and guacamole from Papalote.
On Saturday I drove a City CarShare car to my dentist’s office to have the new night guard adjusted slightly, went to Rainbow on my bike, cooked green split peas and brown rice back at home, and in the evening went with Tom to see The Social Network. Mark Zuckerberg seemed a bit less evil than I was expecting, though being in a crowded movie theater was even more evil than usual. As always, I was positioned in front of a seat kicker, and when a latecomer arrived, instead of asking me if the seat beside me was occupied, she just picked up my backpack and handed it to me. Tsk.
I can never help thinking that for less money, less hassle, less annoyance, and the same amount of time, I could be in my own cozy living room in my comfortable chair enjoying a double feature in company whose civility is absolutely guaranteed—my own.
On Saturday night, it was time to fall back, timewise, which isn’t as exciting now that practically every device does this unaided. The only thing I was in charge of was the little Casio wristwatch I wear only once every six months, when I’m meditating on an airplane.
On Sunday I made a vat of pasta sauce to freeze and went to see E., who, with the help of friends, did make it to see Placido Domingo. She wore a red dress and darling red pumps, sported a white camellia corsage, and traveled to the opera house in a stretch limo!
2 comments:
I bought myself a crappy little lime green wristwatch a few months ago, at the Oakland airport, because I had to fly all day to Boston, and I had not one, but TWO stops, and I couldn't bear the idea of being on the plane without knowing how much time had passed. I have an actual watch that I used to wear, but the clasp is kinda broken, and I haven't worn it in awhile. I should get it fixed. I like it. It's a bangle watch, looks like a bracelet. :)
I live by BART in Walnut Creek (though it's Pleasant Hill BART), and enjoyed watching people go to the station to see the parade, and come home after, tired and happy. Would have maybe been a fun day to be in the city. I remember being in SF back in the late 80s when the 9ers were winning super bowls, and that was fun. This would be even more so.
Your post reminded me of my worst movie viewing experience. It was Pretty Woman, and that wasn't even the reason it sucked. Just as the movie started, and she's in her underwear getting ready and we haven't even seen her face yet, the guy behind my friend started making creepy noises like maybe he was rubbing himself, and kicking my friend's chair. Really creepy. We moved to get away from him. He got louder and someone went to get him booted, and it turned out that he had had a stroke. I hated that we assumed he was a perv (it was the Kabuki in SF), and not that maybe he was kicking chairs asking for help. Ugh. The theater was cleared while medical personnel came in to help him.
Good gracious, I can see why that was your worst movie viewing experience. How dreadful! (This was funny: "It was Pretty Woman, and that wasn't even the reason it sucked.")
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