Friday, July 31, 2009

Divine Comedian

A couple of months ago, I went to see Roberto Benigni give his first American show about none other than Dante’s Inferno. Ok I know…this is just too much highbrow for everyone but I love Dante’s Inferno. I love the whole Divine Comedy. It’s exquisite and people just don’t have feelings like that any more. Not to mention to hear it read by someone in the original language will just make you quiver.

However, before Benigni jumped into a recitation of a Canto, he did his usual thing. He was the energetic comedian that Italy knows and loves. (Of course some Americans know him too because of the movie “Life Is Beautiful”). He was bouncing around and sweating and just being his charming self. I felt like bouncing around along with him. After about a half hour of his commentaries on the world, he dove into a specific canto of the Inferno that he explained to us in English. This was a pretty funny task since some of the canto involved some history that was happening at the time that Dante had written the work. He compared these pieces to modern day event which was very funny.

After going through this canto, he finally read the canto aloud by memory in Dante’s original Italian. I got goose bumps. The previously hot performance center made my tingle with cold. My husband thought it was equally amazing to hear this silly man take a dramatic turn. I was awestruck.

If I hadn’t already thought he was wonderful, that performance would have done it. Now I just think he’s a god. A truly divine comedian.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Scar Tissue

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/21/health/21case.html?ref=health

I always say that scars build character and that each scar is a story. The NY Times thinks so too. Well, Dana Jennings does. He talks about the many scars that he has and a little about how he got them.

Scars are an enormous part of my life. My body is pocked with scars like a treasure map. I used to be very embarrassed of my scars but now I realize there are more important things than being self-conscious about a stitch.

I got my first scar, at least the first one I recall, when I was 5. I had a bone infection but doctors were quite sure what I had. They performed a biopsy on my leg and that’s the first of the many scars I’ve gotten in my life. When doctors finally figured out what was wrong with me, I was awarded a long scar down my left shin. I was 6 and I remember having to wear a cast for 3 months in the middle of the summer. I missed out on a lot of the summer fun but have interesting memories from that time as well, which I’ll talk about in another blog eventually.

And then the list just kept growing and I’ve forgotten when and how I got many of my scars. In a strange way, I am proud of my scars. They are reminders of tests that I have been put through where I came out with a few battle wounds.

My scars often remind me too that if I didn’t have those scars, my life could have turned out very differently. I could have passed away during some of my surgeries, but I’m here. I am incredibly happy to be alive and I’m so ecstatic that my body allows me to do what I do. Often too many people complain about their bodies and I think if people were reminded on a daily basis of how lucky we are to be alive, then maybe they wouldn’t complain about such ephemeral stuff like their looks and being thin.

Monday, July 20, 2009

The Big Screen

Last Friday I went to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The film itself was wondrous and beautiful in many scenes. Kudos to cinematography! The acting as usual was stupendous especially Alan Rickman’s portrayal of Snape.

However, I could have done without the company in which I found myself. #1) I went to see it alone which was not as fun as the big group viewing that I’ve planned with my friends on previous releases. #2) Someone bought a tiny baby to the theatre and it started to cry. This resulted in a number of people telling the parent/babysitter to get the heck out of the theatre. That was resolved pretty quickly. #3) (This is the real zinger that aggravated me through the whole film) The meathead sitting next to me shoveled a large popcorn, a large soda and an enormous bag of Twizzlers into his mouth before the film. He then proceeded to burp through the WHOLE MOVE!

I don’t care if you burp. Really, I don’t. It’s a normal bodily function. I just have a problem with you burping through the whole movie and never saying ‘Sorry’ or ‘Excuse Me!’ Is that too much to ask? I think not!

Why should every bit of dialogue be punctuated with the gurglings and noises coming from your stomach?

What’s more annoying is how a number of times I actually said ‘Excuse me!’ to the guy and he was clueless that I was referring to him. Once again, what is wrong with people?

If you have any clue, please let me know.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Contradictory Characteristics #1

One of my favorite things to do is watch people committing contradictory actions. This is not to say that I don’t commit such actions. It’s just something I find comical.

For instance, this morning in the elevator the doors were about to close and a person screamed out ‘Hold the Door!’ I walked up to the panel and pushed the ‘door open’ button and a gentleman walked onto the car. He said ‘thank you’ but then proceeded to press the ‘door close’ button. He pressed it a number of times actually. I thought this was very funny and laughed to myself.

Here’s this guy who got into the elevator by the skin of his teeth and yet, he doesn’t want that anyone else should have that luck? Isn’t that weird to you?

Friday, July 10, 2009

Coffee Break

Sometime after lunch
But before the end of the day
A moment
To take a quick
Breather
From the work
From the aggravation
To discuss
Politics
Family
Sociological Quandaries
Work
A walk around the block.
A journey to the local
Coffee purveyor.
Chocolate for a weary soul.
All an excuse to vent
And talk to each other
One-on-one
Away from the eavesdropping
Ears
In a more private place.

The routine is established
The invitees can change but
Are usually the same duo.
Those few moments become more
Important than
The eight plus hours
In a cubicle
In front of a computer.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Never Trust a Man Who…

Waxes his eyebrows. I know that seems completely random. But it’s not. Let me explain how I’ve come to this philosophy.

The Mexican (a.k.a. my hubby) once mentioned this guy in the neighborhood who he talked to almost every day. He had said that his guy was friendly and nice. And he certainly seemed that way through my husband’s descriptions and through the retelling of their conversations.

Said person gave my husband some advice too. This guy seemed nice and all. One day the Mexican told said person to watch out for someone. At this point I was a little wary. I’m of the opinion that you can’t always warn people about others. They may or may not take your advice. Or they could simply have a different relationship with that person. You just can’t ever really tell where someone’s sympathies lie. Regardless, things were fine and dandy.

Then the day finally came where I met said person. My first impression was ‘I can’t trust a guy who waxes his eyebrows’. A man who takes particular pains to make sure his eyebrows are perfectly waxed is not a person who is looking out for anybody but themselves and their appearance. The description that my husband had created was completely shattered the minute I met this guy. That doesn’t sit too well with me.

Of course later that night I told the Mexican to chill on the friendship a bit. I could really see this guy stabbing my hubby in the back just so that mr. eyebrows (f.k.a. said person) would get ahead. Mind you, no one should look like Bert with unyieldy eyebrow hair that creates bridge across one’s forehead. But either you tweeze them or trim them…severly waxing them seems odd and untrustworthy. So, that’s my lesson for the day.

Circus Act

I’m sure you were thinking with a title like this that I would go into a rant about work. But no! I’m actually going to talk about the circus. Talking about work is more ridiculous than the circus.

I love Cirque du Soleil. I’ve seen a number of their shows and find them mesmerizing! I’m astounded by the contortionists being able to move their bodies in various poses without the sound of snapping bones. It’s incredibly intriguing. I always find these acts to be the most painful and yet I can’t help but stare at them. It’s the morbid fascination of the human body.

There are those acts that seem to exist solely to make me nervous:
The High Wire People
The Balancing on a Stack of Chairs Guy, etc.
I watch them and bite my nails with the hope that they will not fall.

Then there are the jugglers. I am utterly awestruck by them at times. How they can train their hands to follow their eyes and never let anything fall? I can barely walk on my two feet without crashing into something and getting a bruise.

But the people I love the most are the acrobats. The people who fly through the air with sticks attached to their feet or from seesaws. The freedom they must sense that I can never feel. I used to be a gymnast and I only got so far. But the feeling of having the wind flow through your hands and having your body twist and turn in mid-air must be exhilarating. I guess part of the beauty of the circus is wishing you could do what they do. At least it seems that way for me.

And which act does my husband love the best? The clowns! Why? Because they make him laugh. His laughter at watching them is very contagious. I think he likes them best because he’s a clown as well. He enjoys making people laugh.

So while he invigorated by the laughter he produces in others, I think of the freedom of the flight of those acrobats.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Amazing

Staring at him
While he sleeps
I’ve looked at that
Same face
For years
Almost every day
And behind it
All
I have no clue
What goes on in
That head
In his mind.
There are times
When this unknown
Makes me want to kill
Him
And other times
When I don’t care
The creases
In his face
The wrinkles
Why are they there?
When he doesn’t
Seem to care about a thing
What put them there?


Does he realize the
Trouble
He creates for me
At times
The confusion
The insecurity
The frustration
I must do the same to him
So maybe I’ve
Created those
Creases
Wrinkles
In his face
As he’s created them in
Mine.

The Visitor

My mother-in-law (m-i-l) just spent 3 weeks visiting. I know, I know. Most of you are probably squirming at the thought; while others bristle at the idea of having any house guest for 3 weeks. Luckily it was a pleasant visit for the most part.

My m-i-l is a very thoughtful and wonderful house guest. She came for a vacation and did her best to go out and enjoy herself in the Big Apple. We had an occasional planned event with her, a dinner here and there but mostly she is very independent. I find that I can talk to her more directly than I can my own mother. She’s a very funny and smart woman and I totally respect her.

That said, 3 weeks is a long time and I’ve been thinking of all the conversations and happenings now. I find that I can’t even recall a lot of what we talked about and it’s important to do so. Why you might ask? It’s helpful to figure out some things about relationships – namely between me and my husband. But also, to help my husband understand his family and their relationships.

I suppose as usual that I spend a lot of time thinking about relationships in general. I think it’s important because you can always learn a lot about yourself by looking at how you handle/deal/relate to others.

What the best part of having my m-i-l come to visit? Getting a thank you card, sneakily left on our table as we left for the airport, thanking me for being me. It’s something my mom would never have the guts to tell me in spoken or written form. She’d rather just make me feel like a horrible person.