Sunday, March 15, 2015

Short(ish) March post

In contrast to my typical long posts.

I am slowly recovering but still don't have much of an appetite.  I'll probably try veggie hot dogs for dinner and maybe risk just a bit of chocolate afterwards.  I think I'll try some less processed dairy tomorrow, like a bit of milk on my cereal.*  I went through my blog and emails, and indeed, most of my sicknesses of the last 3-4 years have been coming down with a cold and/or lingering cough.  This business with the stomach being so unsettled has not happened for many years.

I did get out to take in some sun, which has been a welcome change.  It doesn't precisely feel like spring, but it's above freezing and the sun is out more often than not.  I'll take it.  Almost all the snow is off the sidewalks and there isn't that much left on the grass.  While I need to take it easy, in a week or so, I'll probably start trying to ride my bike in to work.  I actually have missed that, particularly on bad transit days (or on days where I am forced to pay extra for very short trips that by all rights would be covered under a reasonable timed transfer system -- TTC may actually have the worst and most punitive transfer scheme in North America, primarily because it is so under-funded).

I decided I probably ought to see just how it would feel to go in to work, as well as clean up my inbox (since I had left my laptop in the office).  So I did that.  I felt sore and would rather have stayed home, but that isn't all that surprising.

Anyway, once I was there, I thought I would check out Blood Wedding at Buddies in Bad Times.  I had not realized that there was a parade on Yonge Street for St. Patrick's Day (I've been kind of out of it).  This slowed me down, and certainly messed with the streetcars, but I made it with a few minutes to spare.  I'm not really sure what to say about the performance.  I thought they did a good job, but it wasn't what I wanted to see. The script is too symbolic with even the moon getting into the act, telling the branches below to get out of the way so that her moonbeams can be soaked in blood.  Everyone knows where the story is going, so does it have to be dragged out so long (a bit over 95 minutes)?  All I can say is that in my current mood, I probably would have walked out midway through Iceman Cometh.  I know this goes in waves, but right now I am just not very open to symbolic or poetic theatrical pieces.  I want taut realism or at least neo-realism, though I am open to comedy, i.e. it doesn't have to be drama or melodrama, but it can't meander too much (and I am going to try to apply this lesson to my own work).  So as I said, I thought they achieved what they set out to achieve quite well, but it wasn't really what I was looking for.  Of course, I have read the Garcia Lorca plays before, but it has been a long time, and they can be played in a number of styles. This performance does fall on the mannered side.  I think of all the roles, the spurned wife was the most effective or real to me.

I had hoped to catch the streetcar home and get a little further into Djuna Barnes's Nightwood (I guess moving from High Symbolism to High Modernism) but they were only running the other way.  It was going to be at least another 5-10 minutes before an eastbound one showed up, and then it would be pretty packed.  I gave up and took the subway and bus home.  And that is it for a relatively short update post.  Perhaps after a nap I will get around to a few longer posts that are midway complete.

* I actually planned for some plain sushi for lunch but through a strange set of circumstances ended up risking a slice of cheese pizza, which so far is staying down, so I guess the worst is over.  I expect I've lost 5 pounds, though not in a way I would recommend.  However, I will try to take this opportunity to reset my eating habits at work at least a little and cut out more of the junk food where possible.  Assuming I really can start biking by Friday, I can get a jumpstart on getting back in reasonable shape, which would do wonders for my mental health.

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