Day 144: Good-bye for now

The Friendly Toast has apparently become the location for good-bye brunches.  Good-bye for V. as we fared her well on her way to Japan post-(pen-)ultimate party, good-bye to 905 Main St. after moving day, and good-bye to Cambridge, for me.  After E. helped me re-pack the Jeep this morning, we headed there with the boys to meet some others.  It was a good crew-- you'll see I've broken my rule of not posting too many pictures of people for this very last post, because today's theme is how much I'm gonna miss these people, not how much I'm gonna miss Cambridge. [NB: There are lots of other people not pictured who I will also miss terribly.]  Above we're outside of the Friendly Toast, and below, I am being group-hugged by most of the group whom I've recently dubbed "the boys".

Alright.  I have remained (mostly) un-corny for perhaps too long, so here is some corn (I am from Indiana, after all).  Thank you to all (you know who you are) for being some of the most inspiring people I've ever known.  You have helped me grow, served as role models, and been there when all I needed was to drink a beer and listen to some bluegrass.  Or when what I needed to was to sit in a corner and cry for a while.  Or when what I needed was a board game night with my cat trying to knock over everything in Russia (which he is roughly the size of).  I have been around some of the most creative, supportive, and caring people I've ever known the last four years, and I look so forward to returning.  All of that sap which was building the last few weeks is hitting, and while I am so very excited for new adventures, I will not forget past ones.  Sending you all warm thoughts and electronic hugs, and now, on to Brooklyn, leg 1 of the journey west!

Day 143: Mt. Auburn Cemetery

As today is the second to last day in Cambridge, I decided it warranted three pictures.  All three come from Mt. Auburn cemetery or thereabouts -- the first is a cozy picture of bikes (hi Yoshi!) just outside Sofra; the second, a beautiful gravestone inside the cemetery; and the third, a spiky chestnut propped carefully in hand, also within the cemetery.

After some mild putzing around in the morning (always advisable after one's going-away party), a bike ride to the part of Cambridge which could almost be considered Belmont was in order.  We went to Sofra, a cafe I'd never been to before, and which was simply delightful.  Also a sort of haven for kitchen odds-and-ends (think: dozens of jars labeled things like "fennel sugar", "pickled green garlic", "raw honey", etc.; oh hell, here's another picture, to the right).  Anyhow, it yielded some very delicious food, and it was right next to our afternoon's destination, the Mt. Auburn Cemetery, which I'd never been to before and which I now sorely regret.  I only had about 45 minutes or so to spend there due to a birthday gathering before Calliope stage call, and I could have spent hours.  Every time I go to Paris, I always want to visit Père Lachaise, and for some reason or other it never works out... cemeteries are often such beautiful places.  And somehow seem the opposite of morbid.  Very peaceful, I think.

After a brief rest, I headed to the birthday party of a former classmate, which was really nice.  Could only stay a minute before Calliope, but was good to see everyone's face one last time.

Tonight's concert went amazingly well.  By far the best performance I've ever been involved with during my (albeit short) tenure in Calliope.  Very hot, so the men didn't wear their jackets, but we managed to get through with no casualties throughout the steamy-rainy evening.  I think the audience really liked it, and lots of friends came, which is always a great feeling.

After, a few friends joined us (us = Calliope) at the Rattlesnake around the corner on Boylston.  The 'Snake had kindly put a sign out for us ("Reserved for the Band") which made us all laugh.  I got to say good-bye to all of the Calliope folks (M. nearly made me die laughing with her depiction of why you should never leave the east coast) and have a beer with some close friends, a great way to spend the last full evening in Cambridge.  Somehow at this point I have still managed not to crack... not breakdowns, not once.  One more day!

Day 142: The Cambridge Parking Ticket, and Pink

Last day at work!  After a brief venture to the boys' new place in East Cambridge to go a on a scavenger hunt for my long black skirt and shoes (concert attire) for Calliope (which was quite easily accomplished!), I headed over to BBN.  My boss and M. [her co-worker, and my close friend, who told me about the job in the first place] took me to lunch and we ate our tasty Whole Foods meals outside BBN at the picnic tables.

After work, the boys were hosting a welcome-to-our-house/bye-to-me/happy-birthday-to-Kim (a friend) party.  Only fitting for my third-to-last day in Cambridge, I got a parking ticket while picking up some beer for the party on the way back from work.  Also fitting that I would spot the pink car featured to the left -- E. and I have been spotting this car all over town all summer.

Upon arriving at the boys' place, and shockingly finding it already to be spic-and-span, I hung out while waiting for K., who had decided to come on the early side since she's been getting over a cold.  She brought ingredients for a drink (the name of which I don't remember) involving gin, soda, and bitters (the bitter making it a "pink" version).  We enjoyed these while the guests began to arrive.

You may remember from earlier posts reading about former parties thrown by our house, fondly called Jack-in-the-box (after its namesake, my cat).  Well, this was no J-i-t-b party; it was decidedly the largest party I have been at this year.  Amongst other things that occurred, I heard tales of bloody guitars (from rough/excitable playing, not from any sort of actual violence), a pair of grad students up to their shoulders in bubbles in the bath tub, a faculty member's presence at the party, and sundry other instances of rigmarole.  Mostly I was in the basement, singing along to guitar, but there was also quite the dance party upstairs.  Two days left!

Day 141: Surprise cafe

Going through my head all day were the lines from the Rolling Stones song:

This may be the last time
This may be the last time
Maybe the last time
I don't know

:(

Well, today was the last Thursday in Cambridge, and you know what that means.  After work, biking to Calliope quickly for dress rehearsal, hugging a water cooler (see left), frantically searching for food (and finding some at a café that seemed to come out of nowhere on Boylston, Café l'Aroma -- tasty salad! might even have had couscous in it? --, it was time for the Last Time at live-band-karaoke.  While I didn't end up singing that particular song, I did sing some other Stones and Boyan (leader of B11) got me up there for back-ups several times.  I am going to miss those boys -- I know they will keep it rocking though!  And there is now a serious karaoke contingency among my close friends in Cambridge. Three more days!

Day 140: ArtBar and round 1 of goodbyes

Although leaving Cambridge has many disadvantages, one of its main advantages is that I have been making time to spend with close friends. And so have they. So tonight, T. took me out to dinner at a place he (and several other friends, actually) have been talking up for a while -- ArtBar, part of the Sonesta hotel.  The weather was being too unpredictable for us to be able to sit outside on the patio overlooking the Charles, but our table next to the window suited us quite well.

On the walk over (I walked to MIT to meet Tim, and then we walked the mile or so to the Sonesta), we crossed through the parking lot of a converted school (?) to business, which apparently happens to be the location where one of our good friends is now working.  Quoth Tim: "Oh look, that's where N. Works."  (Then point to the window:) "Oh look, that's N."  And so it was. He came outside and we chatted a bit then carried on to dinner.  Quite tasty, and with some sort of very festive drink dispensing device (see picture: that's what you get if you aorder a drink "for two").

After dinner, Tim walked me back to Cuchi Cuchi, where I was meeting the girls from my year at MIT for a drink (well, those who remain -- 2/5 of us are gone!).  It was really nice to be able to spend the end of the evening with just the four of us -- it seems that we had been trying to coordinate this all summer and it never quite worked.  Cuchi Cuchi was one of the first places we tried such a "girl date" in our first year... nice memories there.  It's less than a block from 905 Main and just a few blocks up from MIT.

Funny thing about whining all summer about how you're leaving is that when you're still here a few days into the month of September, you start getting people asking confusedly, "Aren't you supposed to be gone?"  Four days!

Day 139: River Gods

The moving continues!  This morning I shipped some extraneous packages that I had been hiding at MIT, and helped G. move some more things from MIT into their new place, as well.  But then it was back to the grind -- to work, then to Calliope.  It felt wonderful to have those tiny bits of sanity back in place, even if it's just for a few more days.

After choir D. and I looked at each other and asked, "Do you have anything planned tonight?" to the other.  It was in a state of shock we realized that there was nothing planned, and so we took the opportunity to go to one of my favorite bars in Cambridge -- River Gods, pictured above. Always cool music (you can't see it, but there is a DJ way up in the corner behind the bar, perhaps even poking his head out?), always cool (and changing) decor, depending on the season, and good veggie options for food (as well as good beers on tap).  The first Friday of grad school at MIT, I remember for some reason my adviser and his wife took me along to Trader Joe's (probably because we were all leaving lab at the same time and they had a car), and as we passed this place on the way back to my house they gave it a shout out.  Very good vibe there.

As D. was giving me some very good life lessons and suggestions for how to proceed in grad school tonight, I got a call from a friend of mine who lives in Colorado but who often travels to Boston for business.  I have been planning on staying with him one of the nights of my trip out west, but he was apparently also in town tonight!  So he swung by and said hi, was nice to see him.  Five more days.

Day 138: Night-time picnic on the Charles

In the spirit of yesterday, and since today was technically a holiday (happy Labor Day, everyone), I decided to spend the majority of the morning at Dado, a tea shop on Mass Ave., catching up on writing and (mostly) making a plan for pictures for this blog (meta, right?).  D. joined me for a bit, having just come from Harvard Square, and his eagle eyes didn't miss a thing.  Two abandoned salads somehow made their way over to our table.  After he left, I ended up ordering one myself, and I must say that I was pretty impressed -- I don't know when Dado branched out into fancy lunches, but they did a good job of it.

After Dado, I biked around Cambridge and Somerville by myself for a bit, taking of a bunch of shots of Central/Harvard/Inman in a sort of loop.  It took quite a while, and by the time I was done, it was nearly time to get ready for the dinner D. and I had decided to invite folks to, by the Charles.  Quick trip to Trader Joe's for some picnic essentials, including Sangria ingredients, and then back to prep.

But first, we had a bit of a piano jam session with a friend who is also leaving town soon (though in a slightly more drastic manner -- he's moving to Thailand indefinitely!).  After, he drove us to the river, and under the lights of the Harvard footbridge (by the business school), we had a drop-by-and-say-hi style picnic.  Several people came actually, which was nice.  An amalgamation of groups, of sorts.  The evening ended with D. and one of his friends deciding it was still warm enough outside to jump into the Charles, and that the footbridge was a safe enough place to do it from (there is also photographic evidence of that, but it was slightly too obscene to post here :)).  Gotta love the Muddy Charles.

Day 137: Cambridgeport

To the left you'll see a photograph that, to me, nearly looks like the corner of an oil painting -- but no, it's the view from the window of the garret (rather large garret) I've been sleeping in for the past few days whilst homeless.  On an adorable street in Cambridgeport.

This morning I woke up at a reasonable hour, thanks to the many (and reasonable) hours of sleep I was able to obtain last night.  There was talk of going to Provincetown for the day (on the Cape), but given the schedule of the ferry, and my reluctance to run around so very much on this particular day, the morning's hours were instead quietly passed drinking coffee and writing.  Later this afternoon I needed to help some of the boys move more things into their new place, so we took a bit of a tour of BCS and their new place culminating in a drive-by ice cream pick-up from Toscanini's.

The evening ended with a viewing of Rumors, which E.'s brother had just finished translating into DVD format.  Rather, it ended with some barbecuing, some singing along to the guitar (visitors' hazard in Medford!), and then the viewing of Rumors.  Lovely Sunday.

Day 136: Cambridge St.

Don't think I mention it very often, but one of the more diverse and interesting roads in the area, it seems to me, is Cambridge St. (in Cambridge -- it definitely goes into other cities as well, and is called Cambridge St. still at least in Boston).  Many of today's activities centered around this street.

First, in the morning I was still on move-the-boys duty (and move-my-stuff-into-their-closet-for-storage, for they were kind enough to let my things live there for a week!).  I met them at the new place, just off of Cambridge, and followed G. back in the Jeep.  After some brunch at the Friendly Toast and some errands, they were left to make crucial decision like who gets what room, and I decided to take the opportunity to take a rest.

Later this evening, I met up with several friends (one who was leaving soon for the UK, and whom I might not see again before I leave the city for good.  We convened at R.F. O'Sullivans, a pub on Cambridge, and had some dinner and drinks.  We toyed around with the idea of heading to D.'s for a guitar/singalong session, but decided in the end to have D. come out and meet us just down the street at Starlite Lounge (a kitschy diner/bar evocative of the 50s).  Which was a better plan in the end, because apparently word got out on the street -- i.e., some of us passed some friends on the way, and we were joined by another set of folks nearly doubling our size.  It was a relaxing night out that ended very early (which was quite fine by me).

Day 135: The beauty of chaos (i.e. moving day in Cambridge)

There is a sort of beauty about moving, even within a city.  A sadness that comes with leaving something behind (at least a partial sadness, even if there's also something good in that); and an excitement for some uncertainty in the future.  Presumably moving usually entails moving forward, and that's a good thing.

In the greater Boston area, Moving Day is a Thing.  Although it is not impossible to get an apartment at various points throughout the year, it is almost certain that if you are going to move out at the end of the summer / move in at the beginning of fall (read: the school year), you are going to be moving out on August 31 and moving in on September 1.  It's a Thing to the extent that radio stations talk about it and multiple friends of mine posted status messages on Facebook on how it was the best scavenging-for-furniture-on-the-side-of-the-road day of the year.  And oh, boy, did we (mostly I) ever help contribute to that.

For me, this moving day mostly meant making sure that 1) all of my things were safely out of my apartment and into my mom's Jeep by the end of the night and 2) making sure that our apartment was moderately clean.  But first, I had to also make sure that three pieces of furniture (two desks and an enormous bookshelf) were removed from the apartment and deposited at three different locations (three very lovely friends') houses.

For my roommates (the boys that is) and their three other roomies-to-be, it also meant moving 1) furniture and belongings from our house; 2) belongings from a friend's house where two of them are currently staying; 3) furniture and belongings from G's house; and 4) a couch and many belongings that were currently being stored at MIT.  And that meant that they had to 1) retrieve a truck from Penske in Medford, 2) load it with all those things (after they helped me out by driving around some of my bigger pieces), 3) park the truck in Belmont at a friend's place, and 4) somehow get back to Cambridge before 5) retrieving truck from Belmont tomorrow and 6) unloading it at their new place and returning it in Medford.

I'll spare you any further details, but somehow all of today's work was accomplished (with a lot of fun Penske-truck-riding by me and Penske-truck-driving by G, and a lot of interim driving by me; note the analog "GPS" in my car pictured above, for part of the journey).  There were some really fun bits (D. stopped by and somehow procured dinner #1 for some of us; dinner #2 was served later thanks to my mom, who remotely bought us food!; E. was around for a while during the time I was packing up tiny things and having to make lots of decisions about what would stay and what would go; etc.).  There were also some really sad bits (making those decisions; looking at the pile of my belongings that was accumulating outside beside the dumpster and watching things being taken; the final moments after Z. and I finished up with the cleaning and took our final picture in the place...).  And then there were some amazing bits -- mostly the fact that my mom's Jeep, now named Red Yoshi by E. and me, is a miracle machine and can fit extraordinary amounts of things inside it.  I didn't crack yet -- no tears -- but I can tell it's coming.  Luckily I have a four-to-five-day drive in which to worry about such things :-/.

Good-bye to 905, and until soon, Jack in the Box.

Day 134: Indiana in Cambridge

This last trip to Indiana, I brought a little bit of it back with me to Cambridge.  That little bit being in the form of fresh sweet corn from my dad's garden (delicious).  I got back in town around 4 or 5pm, and headed over to D's soon after -- he was to host a dinner party for a friend who was coming in front out of town (another soul displaced from Cambridge to the West, though in her case, Seattle).  Anyhow, he incorporated the bit of Indiana into the stir-fry concoction (which was delicious), and created the above fruit salad, all locally grown and foraged from area trees the fruits of which would otherwise have been forgotten. (None were forgotten by us!)

The evening ended with a nice group of friends singing at with our favorite LBK B, B11.  Note the spooning action going on in the above fruit picture, by the way.  I think today can be considered the day that the emotional aspect of all of this saying good-bye to things started to hit me, as I am getting emotional thinking about the tenderness of the spoons, symbolizing all of us sharing the bowl of fruit [someone snap me out of this!].

Day 133: The joys of living near NYC

I'll keep this brief.  One of the best joys about living in Cambridge?  The joy of living close to NYC. The above picture is taken upon leaving, but tonight, I was arriving, late-night style.  Over the course of the last four years I've taken several ventures into the city -- one of the most memorable was coming back from a neuroscience conference in D.C. with a classmate and one of our friends.  We drove in from the south and got this incredible view of Manhattan while entering Brooklyn from the south.  Coming in from the East today yielded great (if not so spectacular) night-time views of the city.  In contrast, the traffic was quite spectacular -- you would have thought it was mid-day, if not rush-hour, and it was nearly four in the morning (don't let the time stamp fool you).

And of course, a related joy of NYC is that bars are still open at this hour, so when B. said he was still out upon my arrival (and that he was going to take a cab home because if he took the subway, I would actually _beat_ him), I scoffed and told him I'd swing by and pick him up.  This was accomplished in time for last call, as he was finishing up outside.  Just nuts.  I somehow suspect that living 2 hours from L.A. will have quite different repercussions from living 4 outside of NYC...

Day 132: Consignment v. Thrift

Today was one of the last days I'll call 905 Main my home.  Mom and I packed up Yoshi (nearly getting a non-moving-violation ticket for it) and headed back to Indiana.  But first, I rushed all over town attempting to get rid of a lot of my things in an organized fashion as I could.  I had carefully folded clean clothing and packed it into bags, thinking I'd sell what I could to a local thrift shop and then donate the rest to Good Will in Central.

First, the plan was to attempt to sell various things to the Garment District, a fun spot in the area for costume-shopping and also for thrifting.  However, I managed to arrive on the one day of the week they do not accept items for buying.

Ok, then.  Off to Poor Little Rich Girl, a consignment shop which just moved from Porter Square not too long ago to near Inman.  Upon arrival, I learned a few things.  Its employees are not timely (one was arriving as I pulled in, something like 30 minutes after the posted opening time), and consignment stores are different from thrift store.  For one, this one required appointments, and for two, consignment = you are paid when your shit sells. Oh. That one wasn't gonna work well.

Third stop, Boomerang's.  Donation only.  Might as well go to Good Will directly in that case, so first I tried...

Fourth stop, Buffalo Exchange, in Davis.  I think the grand total for stuff was $18.  Heh, still probably more (barely!) than the gas I had used in driving around town!  But it was a nice little tour of local shops?  Dragged everything else to Good Will, except for books, which went to Boomerang's (I feel like they get organized much more nicely there, and it's also a good cause).

And then we were on the road -- just two Troyer gals, a chest-of-drawers, a trunk packed full of god-knows-what, and one rotund cat, pictured above, not looking too happy about the prospect of being in a car for 15 hours.

Day 131: The Real Alfalfa Farm of Topsfield, MA

Another beginning of the end -- Rumors closing performance, to great success!  To me, the whole thing felt odd because I was feeling rather tired and essentially chugged a coffee just beforehand, but that didn't stop me from giving it all that I could -- and man, so did everyone.  Some of my favorite bits happened tonight.  I had originally been plotting to try to steal some of "Claire"'s funny one-liners -- as she always beats me to some of mine (or rather, I forget them and she saves me!) -- but then I thought of something funnier, and replaced "...Cookie's walking around like a elephant" with "Cookie's walking around like a honey badger."  Really it was for our stage director, who apparently was too busy stage directing to catch it, but which made BNap ("Claire") nearly die of laughter on stage.  Having not quite recovered from this, I was caught unawares and she stole my next funny one-liner ("Cookie blew up the microwave, what else?"), so I decided she wasn't getting the last word and not only stole but rewrote her next "steal-able" line (also my cue): "You know what this night is beginning to remind me of?  -->Platoon. Weekend at Bernie's."  We had a blast at the performance and at the cast after-party at our producer's -- what a good crew.

BEFORE Rumors, which was a matinee showing today (not until 3p, though), my car-ful (the OG's: "Pudney", D., and E., plus the addition of my mom) decided we would finally go to find the holy grail of our route from Boston to Georgetown: the wine at Alfalfa Farm.  Pudney had discovered long ago that no, this landmark on the route was NOT a lowly dairy farm, but rather that they also produced wine.  So she called them up on one of our rides ("Hello? Is this Alfalfa Farm?"), and made sure we could come in for about 45 minutes prior to our performance.  The wine may not have been up to our expectations (which were VERY high, granted), but the experience was a great way to kick off the last performance of our tenure as amateur actors.

Technically Alfalfa Farm was not quite the kick-off to the day, which was brunch at Rosebud with E. and his parents and my mom -- which was lovely. Rosebud was also the coda to our day, after the cast party, where we had decided to check out the Sunday night karaoke scene.  Mostly we just chatted as we were so wiped, but D. got to sing some Gordon Lightfoot (one of the songs that will always remind me of this summer, "Sundown"), and I took a crack at the Supremes song I'd been wanting to do for a while -- really under-played in my opinion, the song "The Happening."

Day 130: Outstanding Pizza

Today marked night three of the play, and day three of my mom's visit.  It started out with a another venture to Veggie Galaxy, just down the street from my place -- and this time it was for a brunch visit with a friend who had met my mom before.  Thought it would be nice to all get together again.  I must say I was more impressed with the (amazing) veggie pot pie from the first visit than I was with the attempt at breakfast.

Today was also the biggest crowd at the show, by far.  Something like 50 people?  I know that doesn't sound like many, but given the size of the theater, it certainly felt like that many.  Ride coordination is getting to be a bit of a juggling act, but so far, I think that everyone who has needed to get there has gotten there -- and I've gotta hand it to a specific pack of MIT first-years who rented a zipcar and filled it, not to mention spilling over into two additional vehicles (one being mine).  So amazing that so many people showed!  But really, who could resist coming to see a show with such an amazing cast [pictured on-set, above] and crew?

I'd say overall, Act I still best the first night (such amazing -- ! -- energy), Act II ruled Friday night, but the whole package was brought today.  It'll be interesting to see what new bits we can bring to the show tomorrow...

So at this point you might be wondering why the title of the post is "Outstanding Pizza."  Well friends, that is because this is the slogan of the pizza which has been frequenting our rehearsals all summer long (Georgetown's finest), and it made its way into our performance tonight thanks to Z.  Unbeknownst to me (and to Z.), some hungry foraging friends of mine managed to eat the leftovers some time later this evening at my place.  It seemed a fitting tribute to our summer spent partly in Georgetown.  And now we owe Z. pizza.

Day 129: Small-town bar take-over

I feel that my life recently has been thoroughly re-defined by this play.  I still do all of the other things I normally would do -- go to work, go to chorus practice, hang out with friends, eat meals, etc. -- but all of that has to be fit in around Rumors, and after this week, we're done.  [Not to mention the fact that after this week I will be driving around the country like a maniac / preparing to move across the country for a couple of weeks, but I can't even begin to process that yet.]  I also feel that this blog has perhaps suffered, as a large portion of my time is no longer being spent in Cambridge, but rather in Georgetown, and therefore I have fewer new, exciting details about Cambridge to divulge.  But we'll just assume that discussing our post-play take-over of a small-town bar is just as interesting.

First -- a note on night two of the play.  I hate to say that it suffered a bit from the "sophomore slump" -- but Act 1 did, at least.  Act 2 was worlds better tonight, however, once we had our energies going.  It's funny -- the crowd was over twice the size of the group last night, yet we couldn't get anything from them for a while.  Or maybe I'm just perceiving things in a skewed fashion because I was so exceedingly baffled at getting ANY kind of decent response yesterday.  A strange world.

After our stellar second act [from which S.B. took the above shot!], however, nearly the entire (perhaps it was the entire) cast and crew headed to a place nearby (the only place still open, at 10pm on a Friday night!) in Georgetown for a drink.  We ended up staying for quite a while, such that we lost some soldiers by the time it was time to meet some Calliope folks at the Charles Playhouse for karaoke to celebrate the birthday of one of our regulars.  Pudney and a friend of hers made it out, however, which was fantastic!

Day 128: Opening night

In my head for I don't even know how long today has been the song "Opening Night" from the Producers. "Will it flop, or will it go?!" An exciting day on so many fronts.  First, my mom came in this afternoon, and she decided she had it in her to come to our opening performance (thank goodness--I'm convinced it was her laughter that got the crowd going! her, and a few other key presences which really made it for us).  So thrilling -- I can't really describe another sensation quite like having no idea how something is going to go.  Sure, last night's dress rehearsal was our best yet -- but that didn't necessarily mean it was objectively _good_.

After Mom got in, I showed her my apartment, and then we left shortly after to do a drive-by near MGH (where both of tonight's cops work, in their day jobs :)) and picked up D. and S.  The drive to Georgetown was certainly interesting with our crew, and once we got to G'town there was a flurry of hair and makeup behind the stage, somehow much of which was caught on film by G., who brought a very nice camera in to document (above, you can see me as Chris Gorman through his lens).

And then it was time.  My character is the first to appear on stage [I'm now having flashbacks to an 8th-grade production of Peter Pan -- not the standard version, but an adaptation -- in which I played Wendy, also first on stage I believe, opening with a scream, perhaps?] -- and it was electric.  Such a cool feeling.  Dear world: if you ever have a chance to do community theater, do it, because it's a helluvalotta fun.  And SHOCKING.  If you'd have told me three months ago that a performance like tonight's would have been possible, I would have laughed at you.  At any rate, it was a great time, and hopefully we can continue the energy for three more nights!

The after-party tonight involved a mad dash back to Cambridge to try to meet up with some people for karaoke.  Most had already bailed, but a few of us enjoyed ourselves, and D. and I managed to sneak in for one song, "Walking On Sunshine" -- _almost_ as upbeat as I was feeling.

Day 127: Stage fright

Tonight was our final dress rehearsal for Rumors.  Although we were Pudney-less, I felt that it was finally the first night that, had there been an audience, we would not have embarrassed ourselves.  Part of that must have been due to the fact that since it was finally a closed set (that is, all entrances done through the correct stage exits and passageways, etc.) and all of the house lights were down (leaving our director and all who were watching from afar in near darkness), it felt Much More Intimidating.  Funny that having the lights OFF makes it more terrifying -- but it finally felt like really being on a stage!  It's been a long, long time.  I think it must have been the stage fright this all instilled (at least it did in me) that got us going and knocked us into perspective!

In recent rehearsals, one of my favorite on-stage presences (BNap), who plays my best friend in the show, and I have been playing a game called "steal-the-funny-one-liner".  And when I say "we" are playing a "game", I mean she is taking over my lines when I forget them.  And I have a lot of potentially funny non sequiturs (at least seemingly so -- does "sucking his thumb" perhaps prime "I can't believe I'm paying a baby-sitter for this night? Only Neil Simon can know for sure...).  Meaning that many of my one-off lines are very difficult to remember, unless (apparently) you grew up with the GTW, a la Nappa, and have just decided to memorize the entire play.  So, when BNap stole one of my less punchy "Oh who gives a shit?" lines, I finally just gave up and countered with "Apparently not me."  This is gonna be fun when we start doing it for real, tomorrow!

Day 126: Phone a friend

This evening was very phone-y.  Nice to know (especially for future reference when I am in the middle of nowhere, er, rather, the middle of no one I know, i.e., Souther California) that good friends are only a phone call away.  And in my case, currently they will still come running when you call them!  Especially if your gourmand roommate is cooking...

Tonight after errands (dropping off various goods at MIT), full day of work at BBN, choir practice sans D. (who had escaped for some family time at Martha's Vineyard), and a healthy bike ride back, I arrived home to find Z. doing his usually symphonie gastronomique in the kitchen.  Realizing that I hadn't seen his fellow first-year compatriots in a while, I gave J. a call and he and M. came over to hang around and chat in front of our "fireplace" (see photo).  Which I must say was very nice -- a relaxed evening once in awhile is not so bad, not so bad at all.  Over the course of the evening, further phone conversations were had with E., who is still dogsitting in the South End, and D., who was in the throes of a serious game of "before-and-after band names", a game originally construed at Sunday's garden party.  [The idea is simple: think Jeopardy!'s before-and-after categories, and add the constraint that both the "before" and the "after" must be band names.  Some of my favorites include "Tracy ChapMannheim Steamroller", "Animal Collective Soul", or D's very favorite, "Bu(sh)Cher"; and what we call a "level 2", e.g., "The Dave Matthews Band", or "Queen Latifah". We never said we were classy.]

At any rate, it's nice to know your friends are a phone call away, both physically and mentally.

Day 125: Bike Un-Borrowers (Bike lights, big city?)

Bright lights -- big city.  Well, at least, bike lights, big city.  Always useful!  And brought to me by mine truly, E.E.  That is, upon arriving home from a long day at work only to dart off again to another full-length dress rehearsal (the life of a community theater actress is clearly not that glamorous--though it's a helluvalotta fun!), I found E. outside my apartment installing two lights on to my beloved Yoshi.  Having great friends around is like the opposite of having "borrowers" at your house -- and Yoshi certainly appreciates it.

Post-bike-light-installation, our lively troupe of four (D/E/"Pudney" and I) headed off to dress rehearsal #2.  Though it ended up being an extraordinarily late night (sadly prohibiting me from attending the birthday gathering of a former classmate -- happy birthday, Jak!), it was by leaps and bounds our best performance (the gap between Thursday and Sunday was huge -- but we closed an even bigger one tonight).

Tomorrow night we have off, and then final dress rehearsal on Wednesday.  Then it's four days of performing!  Thursday through Sunday.  Turns out my mom will be in town for all of it -- she definitely would have come to all of the productions of plays I was in as a kid, but she should get an award for continuing that tradition into my adulthood!

Day 124: The Cambridge garden party

Today marked the beginning of one of the ends of summer -- that end being the production, and therefore finale, of Rumors.  And by that, I mean that today marked our first full dress rehearsal in Georgetown.  Well, nearly full; there were a few stray "threads", if you will, such as some evening gowns-turned-shorts-and-a-t-shirt and faulty walkie-talkies!  But overall it seemed worlds beyond the rehearsal on Thursday, which was a pleasant surprise.

This weekend's chaos left little room for error, but somehow in between the dress rehearsal and the garden fête this afternoon (more on that in a minute), there was some room for a quick oil change and finishing the cookies!  Almost vegan, not quite; still haven't quite figure out the whole baking-without-eggs thing.  Ok, so not so vegan at all, though the butter substitute worked like a charm. [Sidenote: apparently, upon a quick google search, bananas can sub for eggs.  Must experiment.]

At any rate, I arrived at M.'s house (where the garden party was being thrown for T's birthday, partially organized by me -- i.e., me being the constant source of harassment and verbal berating asking them to come to the damn thing) later than I had hoped but earlier than I had expected, allowing me to help prep a bit and to bake some of the cookies at her place.  It was a really nice afternoon for an outdoor Cambridge garden party. [M.'s place is exceedingly well-suited for throwing such gatherings -- beautiful outdoor garden mostly maintained by the two landlords, who live upstairs, and to some extent M. herself, I expect, with plenty of space for grilling and sitting or standing around, chatting.]  Eventually many of us devolved into devising some strange antics, some of which involved wearing bright sunglasses, hats made of plastic bags, and tiny spatulas (so cute!) for decoration; the antics may also have involved creating some videos of upside-down talking heads.  No further comment on that one.  But the moral of the story is, it was a relaxing end to a long week (fortnight? month? summer?), and presumably one happy birthday was had.

Day 123: Sanders Theater

There was so much to do this weekend that I did not really have any idea how it was all going to get done.  So instead of fretting I did the sensible thing and just tried to DO things.  Today that entailed waking up early enough to go grocery shopping, make cookie dough (tried it with vegan "butter" this time, and it seemed to go alright! tomorrow we'll see...), going costume shopping with our two "cops" for the play at Garment District, and then getting the pleasure of finally meeting the newest members of E's family -- two BEAUTIFUL twin girls born late at night on June second.  The bike ride out to meet them at their pad in Belmont with E.E. himself was quite pleasant.  Their names are Eva Penelope (EE the second) and Amalia Rose, and both are as sweet as can possibly be.  They look a little like my youngest sister did upon her arrival into the world -- mostly due to the shock of nearly-black (but not quite) hair gracing their little noggins!  Oh dear.  Must not because nauseatingly baby-oriented.

Anyhow, they had quite the visit, with I believe five extra adults around for the evening (all Espada brothers and some compatriots).  Upon our exit, it was time for me to go home and get ready for the upcoming performance at Sanders Theater with the Mercury Chorale, which I was pretty pumped for.  We all knew we could have done with more rehearsal time, but honestly we peaked tonight, which is a good sign for any performer.  (Such a waste to have ever done it better than the night you perform, right?)

E. and several of D's friends came to the show, and it was really a treat to perform in that theater space.  The rest of the evening was a big treat as well -- with B. still in town, we had a nice little crew for tearing it up at karaoke at Courtside (what I suspect will be my last venture out there for this stint in Cambridge -- even said my good-byes to Mark the Shark!), and paid a small social call to our director from Mercury.  Really nice experience singing with them in the past couple of weeks.

Day 122: The Max and Irma's of vegetarian food

Down the street from my house lie many restaurants and bars, most of which I have tried several times and few of which remain a mystery to me.  However, one of the newer places to nosh in Central Square, Veggie Galaxy, was a first for me this evening.  After work was our final dress rehearsal for the Mercury Chorus at Sanders Theatre, which was pretty cool.  Got to see a bit “behind-the-scenes”, and singing from the stage was great – it’s got a very interesting lay-out, and the building is beautiful on the inside and out.

I was starved after practice, and D. joined me to wander the streets looking for tasty fare. When the first place he suggested was closing (we realized it was already after 10p), I asked whether that veggie place might still be open – and it was.  Its interior is darling – 50s-style diner, done very tastefully.  We sat in one of the booths placed right in the center (the kind that would drive T. wild, with no side of the booth to the wall).  Even though D. was on-record as not being hungry, he still managed to finish half of  the veggie pot pie that I ordered (which I thought was delicious).

After dinner, I headed out solo to Charlie’s Kitchen to meet up with a group that had convened for T.’s birthday festivities.  Didn’t stay too long, but it was a good scene at another of the diners nearby.  It’s a rare occasion that we experience the diner atmosphere as we usually choose to sit in the beer garden outside in the summer, but it was raining tonight, so the corner table upstairs did us just fine (one of my favorite little spots in Harvard Square – many a nice evening with friends spent there).

Day 121: Zu x 2

 Something I have often viewed as a double-edged sword is the 2a.m. curfew Cambridge has imposed on its drinking establishments.  It seems crazy early, except that in the end one is very happy one has gone home by at least 2:30 and gotten some sleep.  Except for those nights where you manage to work around the curfew somehow... like tonight.

Long days have recently become the norm, and after work, I picked up my usual duo of E. and D., and also grabbed BNap as an addition to our car-ful to Georgetown.  Tonight was our first time not only off-book but also off-prompter, meaning that we were to wing it if we flubbed on lines.  Honestly, it wasn't half-bad.  We ran through the whole play, which is also rare, and so were quite late getting back into Cambridge. D-Money still being in town, we made sure that he and a small contingency were prepped for our weekly stint at the Asgard, and I managed to sneak one song in - "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" -- my first attempt at Stevie, and it went over well.

Most were too tired to carry on at all, but somehow it was decided that for D-Money and me, the party would go on.  A few moments with Chicken Slacks and the 'Tab was about to close, but ZuZu saved the day and we bonded over a quick beer there.  The night went on to included attempts at throwing old bicycles into the garbage can in front of my house (see above) and jamming with the pre-set midi files on my old-school Casio keyboard.  Just another night in Central Square.

Day 120: Boss-ton

 Today was a special day.  A friend (let's call him "D-money") was in town from NYC -- he's the reason I met D. originally and it's been about three years (!) since I last saw him, so I was particularly excited.  In honor of the occasion, Bruce Springsteen decided to play two concerts in Boston this week (or at least, that's my interpretation).

I only recently became aware of the greatness of the "Boss", so I was hoping to be able to snag some tix to the concert. D-money was to arrive just before the concert would begin, and D. and I had chorus [chorus #2 that is - the group singing with the Mercury Orchestra] until pretty late, so it wasn't clear how all this would play out.  It's been quite the treat singing with the Mercury Chorale, and today's rehearsal brought us again to the Masonic Lodge in Porter Square, for our first combined orchestra + chorus performance.  It was a bit of a bust, unfortunately -- the fans attempting to cool the huge room made so much noise it was difficult to hear anything, much less the three other second sopranos singing in front of me.  But hearing the orchestra for the first time was (unsurprisingly) amazing -- it's at least three times the size of Calliope's orchestra.  Made me realize how desperately we need more strings.

Anyhow, I'm now getting to the important part, which is that after chorus, we bike into Fenway, where the Boss was playing. [And in fact he was actually playing on the field -- only super-awesome people get to do this, I was told, and therefore I decided to use this as further evidence that Bruce Springsteen is great. Though still, I will contend, not as great as the Coug.]

D. and I attempted to score some tickets by asking people coming out for theirs and squeezing in, and I think if I had been a little more upbeat and willing to be chatty with the security guards, we would have made it.  But we were content just chilling outside and listening from behind the ballpark, and we met up with D-Money after.  Veggie burgers at Miracle and then some jamming on the keys were in store for us after, as can be witnessed from the above picture.  I think that was some Billy Joel action going on.

Day 119: The (real) Muddy Charles

The namesake of this Muddy Charles is quite impressive, and tonight after chorus, D. and I finally made good on our summer-long promise to jump in together. [Not a first in the slightest for him – for me, technically it was a first, as my previous experience swimming in the Charles was utterly non-intentional.  A few summers ago, when a bunch of my classmates at MIT and I decided to learn how to sail, we took a three-hour-long class on a very windy Sunday morning.  As I happened to be in a boat with a friend with whom I might be most ill-suited to cooperate of anyone ever, it was no surprise when a miscommunication occurred and I tightened the sail as we turned into the wind…  But what that experience taught me was that the Charles River is actually not an unpleasant, or terribly cold, place to swim.]

Tonight, it was another of those muggy days that turns into a not-quite-so muggy evening, and the water was cool and refreshing.  It was a stressful day, and my racing mind was set at ease a bit by it.  We jumped off a dock somewhere in between Central and Harvard and then walked down a little way to dry off with a beer.  Terribly peaceful evening – and great view of the double-tiered Storrow Dr. and I-90 heading westward into the country.

Day 118: The hidden outdoors

This blog acts as an existence proof that I really am quite fond of Cambridge.  But I will say this: it could use a bit more green space.  There are some small parks that dot many of the neighborhoods, but it has nothing to counter the likes of Brooklyn's Prospect Park or Boston's Public Garden.  But if you look for it, you can find a few venues which at least have some outdoor seating space (some favorites are of course Charlie's Kitchen in Harvard Square and Daedalus just south of it).

It was only recently that I discovered that The Field, a nearby pub I've always been sort of "meh" about, has a back deck as well.  Its interest to me suddenly went up about ten-fold upon learning this, and so it was there that I might T., and later E., for an after-work and pre-rehearsal drink this afternoon.  We were joined later by one of our more elusive friends who it was good to see, especially as the summer seems to be rapidly coming to a close.

Tonight's Rumors practice was optional, and ended up being mostly filled with goofing off doing characters in various silly voices, but it was sort of nice to have most of the cast together for a night off, not even trying to be all business.  Also nice to bike from The Field to Arlington with E. for the rehearsal - we made a good biking duo, silent-style.

A final surprise came with C. was returning to Boston from a weekend visit to NYC, and wanted to hang out after practice.  We ended up mostly hanging out on my "stoop" (i.e., my fire escape), another "hidden" way to be outdoors in the city.  A very textured day full of good friends.

Day 117: Suburban foraging

Sunday practices in Georgetown are now a regular part of the week, and I find it quite relaxing to get up on the early side for a Sunday, pop into Toscanini's for a coffee top-up, and swing by to grab various members of the crew for the drive up 93 and 95.  On the occasions when D. is with us, these mornings often bring foraged goodies into our lives during Act 1 (his character only shows up in the middle of Act 2).  Today we were in for a treat - may apples.  Rumor has it they are somewhat elusive and difficult to find around the Cambridge area, though apparently the suburbs of Georgetown were more forgiving; fact has it they are extraordinarily sweet. To eat them, you squeeze and suck out the juicy innards, which are so saccharine they remind me of Gushers (those things are like crack).

Treat #2 of the day was that the old-school members of the GTW (see the sign behind the may apples in the above pic?) were throwing a picnic complete with swimming pool and bocce ball (which S., our director, and I threw down at).  I could only stay for a bit because I had to high-tail it back to Cambridge to get to the second practice for the Mercury Orchestra chorus, which was being held at the Masonic Lodge in Porter Square.  So neat all the places being in this group is showing us!

The afternoon was complete with a bit more urban foraging in the form of nabbing some peaches (and pears, I believe) en route to a friend's place for dinner, where others had foraged some mushrooms for dining (S.B. made an amazing casserole with chicken mushrooms - was to die for).  Rounding out the evening with some guitar sing-along-ing made it a pretty much perfect Sunday.

Day 116: Keezer's Classic Clothing... and empty desks.

Today started out with a bit of relaxing and then the beginning of a quest for a tux.  I find it amusing that I can buy a long black $10 skirt at TJ Maxx or Marshall's or whatever and it counts as "concert black formal", but men are required to acquire something that is priced in the hundreds of dollars even for a rental to achieve the same bar.  It must be the only place in the system where fashion financially favors women (whoa, lots of alliteration there).  Anyhow, I felt it somewhat my responsibility to assist in the tux-searching process since I had coerced D. into singing in the Mercury Orchestra concert, and somewhat less so to join Calliope, both groups requiring fancy concert-wear.

Thus I stopped by Keezer's (cool name for a used tux store, eh?) by myself this morning and had a lively chat with a gentleman who was working there.  It was a pretty kooky and fun place to go, and I sort of wished I got to wear a tux myself.  It's like men just strap these things on and there's a transformation -- I feel like I have to pinch and pull at myself forever to get real change.  It turns out that buying a used tux at Keezer's is oodles cheaper than renting one, and it also turns out that I didn't really need to do a scope-out because they had oodles of tuxes.  And shirts.  And suits.  And other paraphernalia.  It's an adorable place!

The silliness of the tux store (let's admit it; tuxes are pretty ridiculous) was balanced out by the sadness of cleaning out my MIT office this afternoon.  Decision-making is often a difficult process for me, as I like to always choose the best thing, but it's even worse when the thing you are choosing is what to get rid of.  Some of the books will stay at BCS for whomever wants to use them, a few came with me, a couple sold back to Amazon.com, some gifted to Max (who bought me dinner at MoS in exchange -- see Max's story-telling salt and pepper shakers above, all within the territory of hanging out with developmental cognitive scientists).

Day 115: Opera at the Parish

Today was quite the atypical day, making me feel like I was living in parallel universes at the start because I tried to work from MIT instead of heading out to BBN (I was tired, didn't feel like biking that far nor fighting the traffic in a car, and thought it might be fun to work around other people).  Was sort of bittersweet... story of my summer.  So very melodramatic these days!

The rest of the day was really fun, a happy contrast to the gloomy weather brought upon us by some mid-summer rain (apparently the center of the country is in a drought, but I can assure you that Boston is not).  Perhaps the most atypical bit was attending an operatic production. D. has had a boarder staying with him for a couple of weeks for an opera workshop (also atypical, I'd imagine -- someone affiliated with Calliope emailed out searching for such spots for boarders some time ago - but I digress).  The workshop (unsurprisingly) culminated in a performance put on by its participants, and we decided to go watch it.  For me, it involved a trek by T to the United Parish in Brookline, a place I strangely had been once before for a board meeting of the Boston Choral Consortium on behalf of Calliope.  Kind of cool way to feel a part of one's community, joining a community chorus.

Anyhow, the operatic vignettes we saw were really nice - D's boarder being the best, of course.  He did a bit from The Elixir of Love (I'm not so up on my opera so it didn't surprise me I hadn't heard of over half of operas on the list).  Post-opera, we headed to Zenna's (no, not my roommate but a delicious Thai place in Brookline) and then to post-dinner karaoke at good ol' Charles Playhouse with Calliope.  Good people, good times.

Day 114: Alfalfa Farm

For some reason, the phrase "Alfalfa Farm" just seems to roll off the tongue so readily -- and it is our welcome sign on the way to Georgetown, location of the stage where we will perform Rumors in two weeks (! - just two weeks!).  Alfalfa is to Georgetown what alpacas were to Kokomo for me as a child.  Each time my dad would take us to Westfield to eat at his favorite buffet (oh yes, buffet), we would pass the alpaca farm just before arriving in Kokomo on the way back.  Home sweet home... and that's what Georgetown is beginning to feel like, a bit.

Alfalfa screams hippie to me a bit, which is fitting for today, because I finally decided to try to purchase some vegan "replacement" items for my cupboard -- or rather, for the refrigerator at work.  Apparently it's never a good idea to buy soy-based fake cheese product (never again), but almond milk is still OK by my book.  D. was displeased with my ranting about the horrors of replacing cheese, but that was ok, because the result was that he used some _good_ fake cheese (apparently tapioca-based Daiya shizz) to create vegan pizza for the whole cast -- some sort of win-win going on there, I think.

For me, the biggest down-side of having rehearsals in Georgetown has nothing to do with gas money or mileage on my car or time -- but everything to do with missing (or being disastrously late for) B11 LBK at the Asgard. Tonight we missed the singing entirely, though we didn't miss the band, and I chatted with them and hung out at the Asgard for a while before calling it a night.  I sometimes find myself thinking that my rent really isn't too high when I consider I got live-band karaoke for free across the street from my house every Thursday.

Also -- whoa. I just realized when mapping Alfalfa Farm that it's not a farm.  It's a winery.  Well, then.

Day 113: Biking along the Charles

For Day 3 of biking to work, I took the path not through Central and Harvard but rather through Cambridgeport and along the water.  The Charles River has always been my favorite part about the city I live in (I speak loosely hear of course -- I suppose I just mean in gross geographical terms, or something), and I will darn well attempt to see it a lot over the next month.  One time my first summer here I managed to make it out by the MIT sailing dock in time for sunrise -- just gorgeous.

After work, I met E. in our "old place", Thelonius Monkfish in Central, for some sushi -- this time, veggie sushi for me.  (I have never, ever ordered vegetarian sushi before.  What is becoming of me?)

Capitalizing on the nice summer air some more, there was a later venture out to Harvard to the beer garden at Charlie's, and later to a friend's house in Somerville who has something that almost qualifies as a roof deck.  It's definitely a... well a roof.

Boston must be a city with some of the best and most diverse views, honestly.  For having so few really interesting geographic features, to boot -- the river winding through really makes it.

Day 112: Shakespeare on the Common

The best part of today was all of it.

Day two of biking to work meant that I needed to bike all the way from Fresh Pond to Newbury St. in the evening for Calliope.  I thankfully left in plenty of time, not realizing that bike paths in Boston are actually full of pedestrians (well, mostly runners).  Who knew Boston was so athletic?

It was a fantastic day for the ride.  Biking on the Boston side of the river across from Cambridge turned out to be stunning, even if the path was pedestrian-ridden.  Thank you Dr. Paul Dudley White.

One of the coolest parts of the ride was biking past the hatch shell (see above), which was apparently hosting some crazy cardio exercise which only women were attending.

I had a few moments just before chorus to myself, so I plopped down under a tree (viewed the correct way as shown in the photo) and just breathed for a few minutes.

Rehearsal was a bit rough this evening, but afterward, we had the reprieve of some William S. in the park -- Coriolanus.  Only got there in time to see the last two acts (out of five) -- "I will be loved when I am lacked."

Beautiful day.

Day 111: Views in downtown Boston

It's rare enough that I go out in Boston -- other than the occasional excursion to the 'Snake after Calliope -- so it was somewhat bizarre to realize that a friend's birthday dinner tonight was to be held at the same bar/restaurant where I had crashed a wedding after-party a few months prior: Woodward, in the Ames Hotel.  The food was surprisingly good and the company was of course lovely, so it was a pleasant night spent out-of-doors at dinner. The views from the terrace of the restaurant were also a treat -- I hadn't realized this the first time I was there.  I'll try to go back for a picture before I'm out.  Walking back to the car after dinner through the State St./Government Center area was pretty great, too.  Not sure I'd done much of that at night-time before.

We popped in for a nightcap at the Field on the way home, a place that is fast becoming another one of my favorites now that it has an outdoor patio.  It will be nice to live in a place where being outside is an option twelve months out of the year.... Maybe from now on (i.e. for the last 34 posts) I should end with an optimistic statement about southern California.

Day 110: BSO behind the scenes

Never thought I'd be the type of person to wake up at 8am on a Sunday bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but it's happened.  Sundays in Georgetown for rehearsal are fab-o, and we stepped it up a notch today.

Rehearsal itself was a bit sluggish today compared to last week.  Our first attempt at running through Act 2 off-book was not as glitch-free as our first attempt at Act 1 -- and most of us had to resort to using scripts.  But it was great to get everyone there for Act 2, as we had spent less time on it thus far.

The second part of the day involved a foray to Crane Beach in nearby Ipswich -- my take was that it was nice, but next time I'd just drive a bit farther and go back to Ogunquit/York beach (this was pretty close to Georgetown, in its favor) -- free to park there and fewer folks around. Again, nearly none of us had brought bathing suits, but BNap saved the day by having a car full of dirty laundry -- one piece of which was the t-shirt I'm sporting above, touting the same radio frequency as D's (different cities, though; funny).

Part three of today was great.  I was stoked to find out earlier in the week that Mercury Orchestra, a local/community-based group that is quite a bit larger than Calliope, was looking for choristers to accompany the orchestra for Daphnis et Chloe, Ravel's longest piece of music and only ballet (it's short for a ballet, only about an hour).  The choral accompaniment is stunning -- and apparently REALLY HARD!

The first cool thing about the whole ordeal is that my name was on a list with a security guard at the Boston Symphony Orchestra, allowing me to enter its under-belly and poke amongst the scattered music stands that are always floating around where there are orchestras.  Got a big twinge of .... -- well, something more pleasant than food poisoning -- being in that atmosphere again, the basement of a symphony hall.  Felt like a big production and reminded me of singing with the Kokomo Symphony Orchestra as a kid in the KCC -- we would always accompany their biennial rendition of the Nutcracker.

The second cool thing about this schtick is that the conductor is fantastic.  Whole different style from what I've become used to -- and it's always nice to start with chorus only before trying to put the whole thing together.

And the coolest thing is that the music and the singers are beautiful -- and we get to perform this beauty in Sanders Hall.  This blog -- and this summer -- have turned into a sort of feschrift for the arts, and I like it.

Day 109: And to think that I saw it on Newbury St.

Happiness is walking out your front door into your favorite coffee shop on a Saturday morning at 8:30, finding that a close friend has also arrived (freshly back from Germany, no less!), and having an unplanned 45-minute long conversation.

It is not minding the fact that you're working on a Saturday and having no plans at all after, but making it up as you go along. Today was a breath of fresh air.  Eek, I'm sounding rather trite today, eh?

This evening, after a brief stint at a barbecue this afternoon, I met up with the brothers E. to run lines on Newbury St.  [The phrase "run lines" has become a part of my daily vocabulary, but I still think it sounds like I'm into hard drugs every time I say it.]  Sitting on Newbury St. and people watching somehow feels quite like Harvard Square.  Maybe it's all the brick?  Anyhow, the Saturday evening patrons of Newbury St. Starbucks were treated to a double-feature (that is, simultaneously doubled, not in sequence) of some buskers and a trio of aspiring thespians doing our rendition of Rumors -- the whole of Act 1, I believe -- on the patio outside.  We later finished Act 2 in Beautiful Medford, making it an early night before our now-weekly Sunday morning gig practicing on the stage in Georgetown.

Day 108: The yoga scene

Back in the day when I was a graduate student at MIT and therefore had access to all sorts of delightful perks, I would often go to the weekly group classes at the gym across the street from my building (in the Stata center, which you can see in the background image for this blog).  This mostly involved power yoga, pilates, and something called "PiYo" (an attempt at a pilates/yoga fusion).  Vinyasa yoga was incorporated in most of these (even in the pilates to some extent), but somehow most of the courses managed to avoid the true "hold-this-pose-until-your-muscles-are-burning" part of vinyasa that gives it its punch. [Also probably the case that you don't get the most advanced / difficult classes in the world at the Stata Center.]


When my friend Az asked if I wanted to go with him to a vinyasa class, I was excited -- in fact another friend had just thrown a free class pass my way a few days before.  So A. and I went to O2 yoga in Somerville this afternoon after work, and I must say the 75-minute class really took it out of me.  My body used to feel like a nice happy sack of goo after pilates at MIT, but after this class left me feeling more like a sad sack.  Well, not too sad -- muscles felt used, but in the right way (not the over-stretching way, which is why I used to stick to pilates over yoga), body felt completely mellow, and my brain really felt quieted.  I will have to re-visit.

Even with the very zen feeling, I managed to make the most of the rest of the evening and got to see a bunch of great folks at two of my favorite just-north-of-Central-Square establishments -- the Cellar and Cantab.  [One of my friends brought a girl who looked absolutely terrorized at the prospect of entering the Cantab as we approached the bouncer who was checking IDs and seeing the folks who were entering; we had to pay her cover and coax her in gently.  We all had a great time dancing, though!]

Day 107: Out-of-towners

Today was just another summer 2012 Cambridge Thursday, complete with work (new computer today!), some downtime at home, rehearsal in Georgetown for Rumors, and live-band karaoke after.

Several the usuals were away this week (out of town), so I had no high hopes for turn-out -- but though the crowd was small it was certainly punchy!

Since our own locals were being out-of-towners elsewhere, it only seemed reasonable to interact with some non-local out-of-towners in Cambridge.  P. had already begun to do this by the time E. and I arrived from rehearsal, with someone in town from North Carolina on business.  He was a great karaoke fiend and sang us his son's rendition of the song "I'm sexy and I know it" (hockey-themed: "I'm Gretsky and I know it"); though I was a bit worried when at the end of the night he told us, "I drive better when I've been drinking than when I'm sober.  My wife's always telling me, oh you gotta drive -- better start drinking!" -- just before driving to his hotel five miles away.

Before the end of the night, we decided we'd probably be best off ordering some pizza at Cinderella's, and were somehow approached by the table next to us, a group of brothers visiting, originally from Chicago, spanning nearly a couple of decades in age.  When I mentioned I was from nearby Indiana, the youngest expostulated that he went to school in Indiana, at the best school of the state -- Notre Dame.

I laughed and countered that no -- that school was located in Bloomington, to which he responded with an inflammatory remark by inserting a particularly flexible adverb in between "best" and "school" to describe IU.  After that I was not so interested in conversation, particularly after one of them made some about assuming one of our crew had "just met me tonight."  Perhaps an upshot of the evening was just that I felt lucky to live in a place where the out-of-towners don't make me wish I lived elsewhere?  The Cantabrigians I know are pretty great.