My weekend was in many ways comprised of parties and it was delightful. The one on Saturday night was for Cinco de Mayo: at first I didn't have much to do except stand around the kitchen and not know anyone besides ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and a pair of actors I'd seen in two productions and then all of a sudden one of the host's housemates needed someone to keep a pan of olive oil and chicken from burning while he chopped some peppers and the next thing I knew we were making two batches of extremely spicy stir-fried chicken with jalapeño and habanero and curry spices when we ran out of Mexican ones (and the inevitable moment of facepalm when we were told the first batch was too hot for most people who weren't us, so at the last moment with the second we diced in some fresh tomatoes to tone it down and then received disappointed comments about how it wasn't even hotter) and that is a terrific way to spend a party by me. My co-chef made me a drink with rum, honey, and lime. I have this memory of singing musical theater with Rob and no one caring or noticing except insofar as we were between them and the refrigerator, which was rather charming. After midnight, we moved on to a coming-home party for one of his friends who had been serving in Afghanistan; his girlfriend turned out to be interested in weird cocktails and he talked to me animatedly about Greek epic until Rob and I were the only people left, so I think it went well. We went home and slept. Abbie the Cat has decided he likes me well enough that he can be inconvenient about choosing me as a nap site. Yay?
And Sunday was Somerville Open Studios, so we actually got inside the former Masonic temple on College Ave., the Museum of Modern Renaissance. It's as astonishing as it looks from the photographs: densely iconographic, full of myths from a dozen different traditions all kaleidoscoped together; it could be hodgepodge and it's awe-inspiring. Fortune spins the threads of fate from her wheel with the signs of the zodiac between the spokes. There is a figure that looks for all the world like Paul Bunyan if he were a bogatyr. I saw a mermaid I want on my wall, darkly green-armored, her hair rising in spines.rose_lemberg, there are several different kinds of firebird. When we left for Blues Jam, we passed some members of Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band playing klezmer ("Fun Tashlikh"!) in Davis Square. And I finished up the evening at Tea at sen_no_ongaku and sigerson's, where I saw two of the people from last night's second party and a very welcome schreibergasse, who has been only a ghost-presence in my life for months. He had made Moustachio's man-portable fusion pie. Someone else had brought homebrewed mulberry port. I made very enthusiastic recommendations for Lackdaisy. I have a copy of Mike's incidental music for The Winter's Tale and so should you.
(My post title is from none of these events; it is from an awful humorous story in the October 1917 issue of Popular Mechanics, which is a lot like reading World War I-era MetaFilter. I was just looking for information about the Gotha G.V, but Rob and I lost hours off our lives. Just the advertisements are entertaining. Don't say I didn't warn you.)
And now I am about to be late for my afternoon, so I am leaving this computer. Have some links.
1. Courtesy ofshirei_shibolim: Every Major's Terrible. It is a thing of beauty. Also, it scans better in places than the original.
2. Courtesy ofasakiyume: Kickstarter a documentary about Lloyd Alexander. I have written before about how much he mattered to me. I am glad someone's doing this.
3. Tom Edden impressed the hell out of me as Alfie in One Man, Two Guvnors. Pleasingly, the New York Times seems to feel the same way. (Marty Feldman! I said so!)
4. Norman Bel Geddes took tabletop gaming seriously.
5. When we go back to New York.
derspatchel and a pair of actors I'd seen in two productions and then all of a sudden one of the host's housemates needed someone to keep a pan of olive oil and chicken from burning while he chopped some peppers and the next thing I knew we were making two batches of extremely spicy stir-fried chicken with jalapeño and habanero and curry spices when we ran out of Mexican ones (and the inevitable moment of facepalm when we were told the first batch was too hot for most people who weren't us, so at the last moment with the second we diced in some fresh tomatoes to tone it down and then received disappointed comments about how it wasn't even hotter) and that is a terrific way to spend a party by me. My co-chef made me a drink with rum, honey, and lime. I have this memory of singing musical theater with Rob and no one caring or noticing except insofar as we were between them and the refrigerator, which was rather charming. After midnight, we moved on to a coming-home party for one of his friends who had been serving in Afghanistan; his girlfriend turned out to be interested in weird cocktails and he talked to me animatedly about Greek epic until Rob and I were the only people left, so I think it went well. We went home and slept. Abbie the Cat has decided he likes me well enough that he can be inconvenient about choosing me as a nap site. Yay?And Sunday was Somerville Open Studios, so we actually got inside the former Masonic temple on College Ave., the Museum of Modern Renaissance. It's as astonishing as it looks from the photographs: densely iconographic, full of myths from a dozen different traditions all kaleidoscoped together; it could be hodgepodge and it's awe-inspiring. Fortune spins the threads of fate from her wheel with the signs of the zodiac between the spokes. There is a figure that looks for all the world like Paul Bunyan if he were a bogatyr. I saw a mermaid I want on my wall, darkly green-armored, her hair rising in spines.
rose_lemberg, there are several different kinds of firebird. When we left for Blues Jam, we passed some members of Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band playing klezmer ("Fun Tashlikh"!) in Davis Square. And I finished up the evening at Tea at sen_no_ongaku and sigerson's, where I saw two of the people from last night's second party and a very welcome schreibergasse, who has been only a ghost-presence in my life for months. He had made Moustachio's man-portable fusion pie. Someone else had brought homebrewed mulberry port. I made very enthusiastic recommendations for Lackdaisy. I have a copy of Mike's incidental music for The Winter's Tale and so should you.(My post title is from none of these events; it is from an awful humorous story in the October 1917 issue of Popular Mechanics, which is a lot like reading World War I-era MetaFilter. I was just looking for information about the Gotha G.V, but Rob and I lost hours off our lives. Just the advertisements are entertaining. Don't say I didn't warn you.)
And now I am about to be late for my afternoon, so I am leaving this computer. Have some links.
1. Courtesy of
shirei_shibolim: Every Major's Terrible. It is a thing of beauty. Also, it scans better in places than the original.2. Courtesy of
asakiyume: Kickstarter a documentary about Lloyd Alexander. I have written before about how much he mattered to me. I am glad someone's doing this.3. Tom Edden impressed the hell out of me as Alfie in One Man, Two Guvnors. Pleasingly, the New York Times seems to feel the same way. (Marty Feldman! I said so!)
4. Norman Bel Geddes took tabletop gaming seriously.
5. When we go back to New York.
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