hannah

Friday night dinner this week was still with family: out in Brooklyn. My parents weren't in town but my brothers were, so I went out to them since that was easiest for everyone. There and back was easy, thanks to not waiting long for a train to arrive and for finding one of the trains was running express that afternoon. The dinner itself went okay, and when my brother J., his wife E., and their daughter A. were around, I spent most of the time in the kitchen with my brother R. so his wife G. could spend time with J.'s family - I peeked out into the living room a couple times and they were all chatting and looking at something on someone's phone, and I thought it better not to intrude.

An amusing moment came partway through dinner. Weather came up, and I was the only one who expressed any pleasure at the idea of snow. I pointed out that this was the kind of weather we used to have, getting snow at the end of February. B., one of G.'s friends who'd come as well, said she'd grown up in the Midwest and was aware of that. At the time, I didn't think to point out I was talking pre-Industrial Revolution. It's probably just as well; later in the meal, she said she didn't want to feel like life was full of construction zones, that she'd had times of at least a couple things going smoothly, and I struggled to relate. A good person to talk to, and someone with a life fairly removed from mine.

Looking around the kitchen cabinets and what passes for a pantry, wanting to supplement a half-meal's worth of pasta, thinking about what's readily available. Some cherry tomatoes came my way, a couple onions didn't get used in last week's rice dish. There's sardines. There's an impulse buy can of kidney beans.

With one thing and another, there's tomato-sardine-bean soup that manages to do the trick and then some. Sardines and beans - affordable luxury.

In today's dubious triumph over aphasia, I told my client I'd emptied out her utility kit.

Her toolbag. I couldn't remember toolbag and tried to use the next best thing to describe the object in question.

It was a fairly remarkable moment on a number of levels, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to be shaking my head over it for quite some time.

The Orchid Show never disappoints. It's always a breath of air and a flash of bright light to remind you to hold on until springtime finally arrives. I went today with a friend, and while it was the reason we tromped up there, it was also excuse for the tromping at the same time - mostly to see each other. Spending time with another adult in a social setting is a welcome feeling.

Getting there wasn't hard, just time consuming. Walking around was made easier by sticking to paths that were already plowed, so while I missed going into the forest, we saw a lot of it just by looking over and taking in what we could from the outside. As for the exhibit, this year it was New York City themed, done by a regional artist with a charming sense of humor - in addition to the big installations, which were themselves things like a pizza parlor, a fire escape, a brownstone covered in flowers, there were smaller constructions scattered throughout, like a steam vent that was accompanied by a bit of how-to on orchid care.

There were a fair number of small birds, a decent murder of crows, and no small number of all-black stealth mode squirrels. I kept having to point out the squirrels and birds to people, who were perpetually delighted to see them - so I can't be that upset they didn't notice, since they got to see them just the same.

In looking through the stuff on my floor today, in trying to figure out what I don't particularly want anymore, I made one of the bigger decisions in that vein in a while: I tossed out old novel drafts.

I don't need them anymore, and while I want them, I don't want them enough to keep them around. I've got the full drafts on my hard drive. I figured I didn't need the notes I took anymore, so the pages they're on might as well get set aside for recycling. It's a decision I've wanted to make I haven't bothered to make until today. Speaking of, there's four bags of books set aside for another Strand run - mostly from high-end salvaging through the neighborhood, a couple I bought ages ago that I have to say goodbye to. If I'd wanted to give them to someone, I'd have done so by now; keeping them is more a reminder of the idea of giving them to someone, the idea of that someone, than any specific plans I haven't acted on yet. It's something I need to accept over and over again, and each time it's the same stages and steps of the process of doing so. Investing in another external hard drive so I can divest myself of DVD box sets is aspirational in comparison.

I've got a box set aside for papers. If it fits in there, I can keep them. That's the goal. The best way to achieve that goal is to find the papers I've got that could conceivably be put in there. First, though, the Strand run tomorrow, and a library run for some of the DVD box sets to find their way to another good home.

I did end up going to the movies as the main activity of the day. The only activity, when you get down to it, especially since I stayed in bed late enough into the morning I missed the breakfast window. I found it fairly remarkable how few people were out on the streets - not surprising, but remarkable. It made me want to walk around a bit more to appreciate the relative absence of people. Not enough to go through with it, but the desire was there.

It's cold enough in my apartment for socks and a bathrobe, and I've now broken out the fingerless gloves. If I had the space in my freezer for the loaves, I'd make bread as a reason to turn on the oven, and as I don't, I'm having to make do with hot tea.

In trying to get rid of objects in my apartment, some are easy, like lighting candles. Some, like hard plastic water carafes, present more of an issue and require outside help. As such, I'm looking for help right now.

I have three plastic tumblers from past ConFabCons, including one from when it was Wincon. They're all in decent condition, and while the straw to one broke, it's easily replaced. I don't use them and I'd want them to go to a good home if they could. If anyone in the greater NYC metro area wants them, they're yours. If anyone in the greater NYC metro area knows someone who wants them, please put me in touch.

Dinner plans shifted about halfway through cooking: I'd planned to make boxed macaroni and cheese with some vegetables added in, but the vegetables ended up smelling so good, I ditched the cheese. Sauteed onions, garlic, and herbs with rapini and canned tomatoes might've taken well to the cheese sauce, but I'm pleased at how it came out just the same.

My new plan is to make boxed macaroni and cheese with double the cheese sauce at some point in the future, and feel absurdly luxurious for being able to do so.

Because I needed a new winter coat after the zippers on my old one broke, a not-insignificant amount of money was spent today on a new coat. It's got me thinking about two things: where this old coat came from, and the last time I got entirely new clothes. I can't remember where I got it, just at some point in the last ten years or so, which means I probably salvaged it from somewhere - likely my building's laundry room. Given the state of the elastic tags to tighten or loosen the hood as well as everything else about it, it must've been tossed aside after a few years of use. I've commented on the quality of cast-offs of New York City in general and the Upper West Side in particular, and this really speaks to that, because aside from the elastics and the zipper, everything works to keep me warm.

As for the last time I got entirely new clothes, excluding undergarments and shoes, I definitely can't remember. Most of the clothes I've bought the last few years came secondhand, eBay and Mercari and Poshmark, so while they're new to me and might be functionally new based on how often they'd been worn before I got them, they're not new to the world. I think the last new purchase was a dress for one of my brothers' weddings, so it would've been 2022 or 2023. Not that long ago, but certainly a while.

The amount spent on the new coat's certainly more than it'd cost to replace the zippers, but I'm buying more than zippers in getting a new, high-quality coat. I'm thinking of buying new zippers just the same, replacing them and then donating it somewhere to give someone else a few more years' use of it.

Challenge #14

In your own space, create a promo and/or rec list for someone new to a fandom. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it and include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

You've probably heard of Top Gun at this point. Yes, you - the generic you, the one reading this post right now. I'd be more surprised if it hasn't come up at this point, given the cultural footprint the movies hold, to the point that the first one was considered significant enough to be included in the Library of Congress' National Film Registry and the second one played in movie theaters for over six months in a time when that's practically unthinkable because people kept buying tickets. But maybe you haven't seen it. No shame in that. Maybe you know it's not for you. I can't speak to your tastes. Then again, maybe you're not sure. Maybe you need some enticement. Maybe you need to be told that it's more or less American live-action anime, down to having beach episodes. Maybe you need more than that.

Might I offer a homoerotic volleyball montage, voted "best movie scene" three years in a row by Suck magazine, a fact that made the director tremendously proud?

What about Val Kilmer snapping his teeth at Tom Cruise, a moment he confirmed was improvised?

How about one actor sneaking porn onto set and playing it during a scene, creating the conditions for someone to say "This gives me a hard on" and for someone else to respond "Don't tease me" and for that moment to be included in the final cut?

Were you aware that the first movie's aesthetic was largely inspired by Bruce Weber, noted gay photographer?

How about that for all its endorsement by the US military, it manages to be astonishingly gay by 1986 and contemporary standards, with Kilmer himself being the first Iceman/Maverick shipper?

Would it please you to know that between Top Gun Maverick and the Mission Impossible movies, combined with all the cumulative explosions from his movies, Tom Cruise qualifies as a Dekahelen?

Possibly you'd enjoy knowing that the sequel is a surprisingly somber meditation on aging, loss, regret, and reconciliation in addition to all the thrills of the practical stuntwork?

Or that together, both movies total just over four hours' runtime so it's not even a big commitment, and that all four of those hours are full of beautifully composed scenes and shots?

Maybe you've made up your mind a while ago. I'm cool with that. But if you haven't and you're willing to give it a shot, drop me a line and I can hook you up, no streaming services required.