new york

Fall down, go boom

Sometimes, you’re just walking along, minding your own business, when the universe decides to make your day a little more interesting in a slightly unpleasant manner. That’s what happened to me today, on my lunch break, when, across the street from Grand Central, I slipped on a wet patch of asphalt and fell to the ground, skinning my knee and ripping a small hole in my trouser leg in the process.

I considered walking on — my pride was hurt a lot more than my knee, and the hole was neither so big nor in an embarrassing location — but I was right across the street from a couple of clothing stores, so I decided to look for a pair of replacement pants. It took me a while, and a trip over to Fifth Avenue’s Lord & Taylor — where, because of construction inside the store, it took me longer just to find the men’s department — but I eventually bought a new pair of pants, went back to the office with them, and changed in the bathroom.

And then I finally got to eat lunch.

Beyond that, though, my day wasn’t especially exciting.

April 22

Today was not at all the day I expected it to be when I woke up this morning.

It started out like every other morning this week, except that I somehow managed to get out of bed in time to catch the earlier train into Manhattan. (And I only had to run a little bit to do so.) On the way in to work, I finished reading Janni Lee Simner’s Bones of Faerie, which I started on Monday. I loved the book’s opening chapter — which you can read in full at the Amazon.com preview linked above. It’s dark and sinister and poetic, and in just a few paragraphs it sets up what promises to be a very interesting world. And then the book lurches forward, with too much happening too quickly, not enough happening overall. I liked the characters, but the book never lived up to that first short chapter for me, never took the time to slowly develop its world and history.

When I got to the office, it was time for a change of pace, with an art therapy book currently on my desk in development. Of course, that didn’t last too long, because a little before noon I decided to call my doctor’s office and see if I could schedule an appointment, and they asked if I could come in, in a couple of hours. For the past couple of weeks, my throat has been bothering me; I haven’t felt particularly sick, but it has often hurt to swallow, and there’s been a scratchiness I just couldn’t shake. I thought, if I was lucky, they’d be able to see me sometime tomorrow, but they had at least a couple of slots still available for today. So that’s how I ended up leaving at noon and taking half a day off from work.

I’m pretty much okay, and the doctor’s appointment went by fairly quick. It’s mostly just a lot of post-nasal drip, with possibly the start of a sinus infection, that’s irritating the back of my throat. He prescribed five days of antibiotics, gave me a spray for my nose (complete with a talking brochure), and recommended an over-the-counter allergy med like Claritan or Zyrtec. With luck, I’ll start to feel a whole lot better soon.

Other than that? There was a brief moment on the train ride home when things threatened to get a little weird. An elderly gentlemen sitting a few rows behind me was, from his conversation with the ticket collector, obviously confused about where the train was headed and about the fact that he had to pay for a ticket to get there. He wanted to go to a local hospital, not on this particular line, and apparently had no money. The two of them seemed to reach some kind of understanding, namely that the man needed to transfer in Queens, but he became quite agitated when she came back through at that transfer stop.

“Sir, you need to get off this train,” she said, not at all rudely.

“The only thing I need to do is die!” he shouted.

And then she likely threatened to get the police involved, because the next thing he was shouting was, “Go ahead! Call the cops!” She went off to do just that, and then he wandered off the train, headed who knows where, and we were kept sitting there for another ten or fifteen minutes. Thankfully it never escalated into the sort of fistfight I’ve actually seen on my commute, and hopefully the police were able to help the gentleman get back to wherever he belonged. If I had to guess, from just his appearance and his attitude, he was suffering from some kind of dementia and needed assistance.

I can’t help but be reminded of this story from a recent Radio Lab podcast.

Other than that? That’s pretty much it.

Wednesday various

That was my weekend

I got home a little after midnight yesterday, and I was a little too tired to actually post anything here. Of course, I wasn’t so tired that I didn’t get in a little late-night capping or watch half of this week’s episode of Doctor Who. (I fell asleep somewhere in the middle, but that was much more exhaustion than any kind of boredom. It was another good episode, which I finished watching this afternoon. I’m particularly looking forward to next week’s, which looks like Stephen Moffat Crossover Overload.)

Why was I out so late, you may ask? Well, I was in Manhattan, at the Cinematic Titanic show in Times Square. And it was a whole heck of a lot of fun.

Not quite sure what I was going to do about dinner, or if I was going to get a chance to meet up with the friends/fellow cappers I knew were attending, I got an early-ish train into the city, arriving a little before five o’clock. The doors of the Nokia theater weren’t scheduled to open until seven, so I had a little time to kill. I decided to kill some of it by revisiting the High Line, which I first saw back in September. It’s a really nice way to see Manhattan — and will probably be even more so once they finally finish extending it to 34th Street — and I definitely recommend it if you’re visiting the city and the weather’s nice. It was a little overcast and windy last night, but I still had a nice time walking the length of it that’s open, something like eight or nine city blocks.

I walked around a little more, finally ending up a little further uptown in the neighborhood where I work. I skipped the chance to actually walk past my office building, where they were no doubt even then testing the fire alarm. (I kid, although they do seem to do that all the time.) I grabbed a sandwich for dinner near Bryant Park, then walked over to the theater in Times Square, hoping to meet up with the rest of the group. And I did, very briefly, although no sooner had we been ushered into the building than we were separated into our assigned sections. It was a big theater, and eventually became very crowded — they were sold out, Joel Hodgson later said — so I didn’t really get to see anybody I knew for any length of time. I didn’t see them at all on my way out after the show, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The show started a little late, and by 8:30 I’ll admit I was getting a little restless. They finally took to the stage, with some very funny warm-up material that seemed to play into the fact that they’d kept us waiting — “just ten more minutes,” they said about half a dozen times — and then with the movie itself. They were riffing on Danger on Tiki Island (aka Brides of Blood), which for a terrible movie was surprisingly not so bad. I mean, it was genuinely awful, don’t get me wrong, and easily lent itself to the mockery, but…well, maybe it’s just that, as a fan of Mystery Science Theater and its offshoots (like Cinematic Titanic), I’ve seen much worse. Hodgson called the film “actually one of the better Filipino monster movies” and despite its awfulness at almost every level, it was hard not to kind of admire it. The movie was no Plan 9 from Outer Space — which is ineptly made but an absolute delight — and not by a long shot, but…well, it was also no Manos: The Hands of Fate.

The show itself was great fun, and though I didn’t see any of the group I’d come in with on my way out, I was right behind MSNBC’s Keith Olbermann. I later confirmed that he was there via Twitter, as was John Hodgman, who I glimpsed across the aisle before the show. (Him I’d seen once before, years ago, at a reading/interview he did with Neil Gaiman. I still remember how Hodgman had trouble proving to security who he was so they would let him in.) I don’t know if any other New York semi-celebrities were in the crowd last night, though, since I opted to head back home rather than stick around to try and get my poster signed.

By comparison, today was pretty boring, though pleasantly so. I worked on the New York Times crossword — not quite finished, though this week’s theme seems a little halfhearted, I have to say — and a little on a short story. I also watched the rest of that Doctor Who episode, and another episode of Slings & Arrows, which is probably my favorite series set at a fictional Canadian Shakespeare festival. I also went for a short walk, then a shorter one with the dog, and wrote this. It’s no live shows on Broadway levels of excitement, but it was a good weekend overall.

Of course, it’s back to the office tomorrow. This three-day weekend was nice, but it was much too short.

Three-day weekend? Don’t mind if I do.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I fell asleep last night well before ten o’clock. I was watching another episode of Fringe — which doesn’t speak well for the show’s ability to hold my interest, though I do seem to keep watching — and the next thing I knew, it was past two in the morning. I thought briefly about posting an update here anyway, but I opted instead for brushing my teeth, putting on pajamas, and going back to bed.

All day long yesterday, I felt like I was on a relaxed Friday schedule while everybody around me was still in middle-of-the-week, knee-deep-in-Thursday mode. That might have something to do with its still being Thursday, but I knew I would be taking today off as the start of a three-day weekend, so I wasn’t about to let a little thing like reality stand in my way.

Though stand in my way it did, and for some very long hours. It was capped by all sorts of confusion and delays on the railroad coming home. I got to Penn Station, where I was directed to a different track than usual, and then I panicked slightly when the doors closed several minutes before they were supposed to and I thought, “uh oh, maybe I’m on the wrong train.” It didn’t help that you couldn’t understand the conductor’s announcements at all over the train’s PA system, but by time we reached Queens, it was all but certain the train wasn’t going where I wanted to go — either because we’d been sent to the wrong track originally, or because they’d decided to change the plan, unannounced, en route. Whatever the problem — and by then they were calling it “signal failure” — I got off in Jamaica, where after a lot more confusion I managed to get on a train that was stopping at my station. In the end, I wasn’t home a lot later than usual, but I was especially glad I wouldn’t have to get on the train again the next day.

And I didn’t. I spent today not doing a whole lot, though I did mail out most of the current issue of Kaleidotrope — international contributors and subscribers tomorrow — and buy a few new pairs of shoes. My current dress shoes, and even my sneakers, are suddenly falling apart, so it was time to replace them. They gave me a coupon for $10 off (a $50 purchase), which would be great if it wasn’t valid only between May 2 and 22. That’s a pretty narrow window, and there’s almost no chance I’m going to need another pair of shoes any time within it. Or at least I hope not.

Beyond that, I watched a little of The Mighty Boosh (season 3) and finished re-watching season 1 of Slings & Arrows. I’d recommend both shows, though Boosh is definitely the weirder of the two. (And a ghost is a main character in Slings.)

According to my Forgotten English calendar, today is the feast day of St. Benedict Labre, the patron saint of vagabonds. Which isn’t exactly relevant, but a fun historical fact nonetheless.