‘To Life’

I dragged my tired ass out of bed at 9:30 this morning to make it to the Minskoff Theatre in time to get a student ticket to see the not-quite-critically-acclaimed revival of Fiddler on the Roof starring the, according to NYTheatre.com, miscast Alfred Molina. I'm excited. The soundtrack, or at least the songs I managed to obtain through non-monetary means, got me through my thesis, as did a few select pieces from another Broadway show, Ragtime. The show's tonight. Can't wait.

Hopefully my job will allow me to get to the theatre a little more often. And I won't necessarily have to buy a student ticket, although I will be keeping my ID.

I got slammed with a bit of a depressed state yesterday. It was the kind when the air, sound, rain, and wind combine to create a stifling cloud around you that prevents you from moving. I watched three hours of bad television. Turned my phone off. And didn't turn my computer on until after 11. Funky days seem to be going around. My roommate told me of hers just 10 minutes ago, and I just received a call from a childhood friend telling me she was in a funk.

Maybe it's the season change. Usually when I get slammed like that, I retreat into myself and analyze more than usual what is going on around me. This time was no different. I even went so far as to re-examine my purpose for blogging. I began to think that I am up people's asses all the time. Calling. Writing on this site. Writing short stories. Going to cafes. I write on this site and make myself available for everyone. Then why should people call when they can just pay a cyber visit to a calinative?

I wouldn't. Don't mind me. It's just the funk talking. That's where I went yesterday. Where I didn't go yesterday was to Jeffersonville. A former professor, now friend (hopefully still) of mine -- Elzbieta -- invited me to her country home for the week. Monday through Friday with her in the forest.

My first thought wasn't of horror fodder. But it was of feeling trapped. Stuck. I understood the opportunity at hand. You don't say "no" to a professor. You don't say "no" to a free (except bus fair) week upstate. Well, I do. I agonized over the last-minute offer. But finally turned it down. I'm glad I did.

I realized that I don't like to go away unless it's on my terms. If I don't feel like it, then there's no reason to go. Part of her argument was that this would be my last opportunity for something like this. (Geez. I hope not.) My last full week before work started. (I've worked before, everyone.) You've never had the possibility of going to the country like this. I also realized that I am totally capable of finding solace on my own, in myself, even in a city like New York. This is important to me.

For instance, yesterday I went to Times Square to investigate student prices. With my headphones on, I had found solace, even though I was negotiating the thousands of tourists meandering about. After I bought my ticket today, I walked up to Central Park and sat on a brickish wall. Then I laid down and closed my eyes. Solace. It was nice. And it was all I needed. Another example: The new Seal song, "Love's Divine." Go listen to it. I'm addicted. I'm going to bring my uncharacteristically day-time post to a close and go eat my limited-edition Ben and Jerry's Dublin Mudslide (Irish cream liquer ice cream with chocolate chocolate chip cookies and a coffee fudge swirl) ice cream for lunch. "To Life!"