of strangers and smoky auras.

Today I weeded the garden, which was in a woeful state.  Well I weeded everything except for a patch that my good friend had stretched herself out in.  It took a couple of hours and I was covered in sweat and dirt when the task was done.

After cleaning up I walked all over the city, mostly looking for subjects to photograph for a new style column I’m gearing up for with RVANews.  To date, the people I have approached for this have all seemed very flattered and enthusiastic about having their pictures taken, but for some reason I still have difficulty approaching strangers for it.  This may be because I hate being approached by strangers myself.  As I walked all over the city, I thought about how silly it was for me to think that way, because if all it takes to make someone feel great and add an unexpected compliment to their day is for me to take a quick photo, I should be falling all over myself to do it.  But still I had trouble because (1) most people are wearing t-shirts and flip-flops, which I do NOT want to feature, and (2) some people look incredibly busy — talking on the phone, ordering food, etc.  And I hate to interrupt.

As I was pondering all these things after a three-hour walk and nearing my house, feeling defeated, I was the one who was approached.  This lady that I frequently see walking her dog (whose color changes almost weekly: green, purple, pink…I guess she dyes the poor beast) strolled up and said “Hello, I love the way you wear your bows.  Your hair is great, you have beautiful hair.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I actually have a shop where I sell the bows; you should check it out” and I handed her a card.

She looked down at the card and said “I don’t have a computer.  I actually get a really bad aura from computers.  I’m a preschool teacher, and I try not to turn them on. “

There was an uncomfortable silence, as I didn’t know what to say.  While I wouldn’t want to reward someone for being afraid of technology — especially as simple and easy to espouse as it’s been made in recent years — I also think that people should be allowed to live however the heck they choose as long as they’re not hurting anybody else.  So I didn’t say anything.

She squinted at me and said “You have this smoky aura about you.  It’s very mystic.  There’s something very mysterious…”

Another long silence…I wasn’t really sure how to respond.  I had been wondering what that smoky smell was for the past several blocks, and had assumed it was something burning.  But I didn’t want to burst her bubble.  So then I said “Thank you.  Well I recognize your dog, so I’ll sure we’ll run into each other again soon when you’re walking him.  We must be neighbors.”

“Or even sisters!” she said.  And then we parted ways.  Oooooookay.  What a disturbing / bizarre / delightful conversation.  Sisters indeed.  And yet, we are kind of sisters.  Human beings, and ladies walking around Richmond talking to strangers.

Never a dull moment here in Richmond…and especially in Oregon Hill.  <3

And btw, it’s Formal Friday.

a distaste for cous cous, and happy parading.

This weekend: dinner at Ipanema for Blake’s birthday, the Triple for Lauren V’s birthday, the Christmas parade, crafting, visiting Granny at the hospital, cooking, Autocue / Ki:Theory show at Gallery5, Ipanema for Twist and Crawl dance night and seeing rad friends from Norfolk.  After that we tried to go to Cous Cous to meet up with some others and see the magnificent Jason Wood, who was down from NY.  Up to this point I had an amazing night, saw great bands / DJs, and was able to catch up with tons of people.

But here’s where last night got surreal.  So Margo and Maura were in line to get into Cous Cous, and then a couple of guys, and then us.  We were all perplexed because it was busy inside, but not slam-packed like it is some nights…so why were we waiting?  The door guy wasn’t letting one person in for every person who left, which would be standard procedure if the place was at capacity.  He was arbitrarily letting some people walk right up and bypass the line to get in.  But when three or four people would leave, he wouldn’t let anyone new in.  He was incredibly rude to Margo when she asked him what was going on.  His explanation was something that amounted to “Right now, there are too many people in here.  So I have to let out more people before I can let new people in.”  Uh, how did that happen?  And there weren’t “too many people,” because we had all been there tons of times and seen the place about 50% more crowded.  Peering through the glass windows, we could see that there was plenty of space for the eight or so extra folks who were now waiting outside.  Karen ventured the guess that they had craftily decided that “capacity” was way lower on nights when there’s no cover charge.  But there was no cover for any of Kenny’s amazing and packed 240 Minutes nights, so that doesn’t make any sense.  The door guy’s condescension to Karen when she inquired about the door is probably what frayed my patience to its very end.  After waiting for about half an hour, the status was that people continued coming up, seeing the line, asking “there’s a wait?” and then seeing our nods, peeking through the doors, and saying “but it’s not even full in there.”  Exaaaaactly.  It kind of grossed me out, to borrow a favorite phrase of Susan’s.  I’m all about waiting a little while for a good time, when everything is fair and above-board and done in the name of obeying fire codes.  But wasting my valuable Saturday night hangout time so a guy with a raging Napoleon complex can play door commando is humiliating to say the least.  I wanted to wear a sign saying “This bar isn’t cool enough for me to wait in line to get in, I’m just trying to see my friends from New York,” but I forgot my posterboard and Sharpies.  Finally my desire to avoid licking the boots of the door guy overpowered my desire to see Jason, and we split.  At this point it was almost 1am, and I couldn’t give that bearded buffoon the satisfaction of thinking he owned my soul.   This bummed Dan out because he had really wanted to get in and was looking forward to seeing friends who were inside.  Am I crazy or too impatient or complainy just because I want to at least preserve that little dignity?  I think not.  I told Dan that he should stay if he wanted to, but he didn’t stay.

So that’s the explanation for how Cous Cous became yet another of Sticky Rice’s ventures that I’ll avoid like the plague because of its rudeness and crowds, even though the food there is fantastic.  Kenny: time to change venues?  I hated trying to dance around all the 4,000 tables in there anyway.  Let’s discuss.

Edit (12.8.08): Check out the comments for further discussion!

::sigh:: End rant.  Ahhh, always purges the confusion, and never costs a penny.  And of course this way I’ll remember why I haven’t been to Cous Cous in a year.  Also, one of the larger points here is that Richmond needs a bar that’s bigger than a matchbox and smaller than Texas so that it’s the right size for dancing.  Not that I don’t love being all smushed in to tiny spaces with you guys.

But I’m quickly reminded how insignificant things like this are.  This week’s been marked with some sadness because although Granny’s doing better, she had another heart attack while in the hospital.  My sister was told yesterday that our grandfather is also ill, which is disconcerting because he is a superhero and claims to have been alive since before dirt was invented.  And Brandi suffered the loss of her baby niece this week, which is more than I have been able to wrap my mind around.  I’ve thought about her a lot this week, and how much she must be hurting.

On more positive notes:

• It snowed last night!  Tiny, baby flakes for about three seconds.  But still!
• I’ve spent about 20 hours this week working on a giant neck-bow for Marshe, and although I cannot imagine why I’m working as fast as molasses in January, it’s turning out quite lovely and I’m having fun with it.
• Work is amazing, and I’m not bummed at all to be up this early on a Sunday so that I can go there.
• My neighbors’ crazy rope-lights-in-a-tree Christmas decorations make our block the BEST this time of year.
• We froze our feet off at the parade, but it was so festive and romantic to get up early and huddle with each other on the street and be around so much cheerfulness and so many high school marching bands.
• There were Star Wars costumed characters at the parade!!!!!!!!
• I love NEET Magazine.
• Richmond has made it so easy to avoid malls this holiday season, with at least three different ways to get handmade stuff and bypass the mass-produced.
• Non-boring family portraits: good call.  Nobody wants to see you in your soft focus, Olan Mills, weird makeup that you never wear on normal days type of portrait.  Least of all yourself in ten years.
• Gmail stickers!
• H&M Home: now we’re all in big, big trouble.
• Inspired by a pretty hotel: “Love is meant to make us glad.”  Truth.
• Wesley Willis cross-stitch: THAT is what the world’s been waiting for.
• Not my style at all, but beautiful nonetheless.
• The Church of Crystal Light got press in Style Weekly.

dear richmond

Sometimes people visit Richmond and I’m disappointed that they don’t seem to grasp its true essence.  Others perceive it immediately, and it shows.  It is a wonderful thing seeing someone fall in love with something that you love too.  Recently someone posted these amazing letters all over my street, and — well, it just about sums it all up.  I was going to take one down, scan it, and then replace it, but Scott already took a great photo of it and posted it on Oregonhill.net.  So without further ado:

http://www.oregonhill.net/2008/09/23/letter-to-richmond-from-pine-street-visitor/

This also relates back to what I was saying here about the strange lure of RVA.

twenty-seven.

Today I turn 27.  Today is also the first truly cold day of fall.  On my morning run, a cool breeze swept through the Fan and rustled the leaves that are beginning to collect on the sidewalks, and the smell of spices from Sauer’s filled the air.  Nearly everything in my life is perfect, and I’m happy to observe with Candide that this does appear to be the “best of all possible worlds,” in spite of inflation and debt and chronic whiners and the color beige and everything.  What luck, that all these blessings would be bestowed upon one so unworthy as me.  I am delighted and grateful to accept them.

of recklessness and water.

Ce weekend…

Friday: Much crafting.  And then hangouts for Katie’s 2nd annual 25th birthday at Havana 59 and Ipanema.  I was please to meet a lot of her coworkers, who seem to be quite the close-knit crew.

Saturday: More crafting, then lunch at Mom’s Siam with Beth, Burke, and Terry.  Yes people, my BFF since circa preschool will be a Doctor of Physics come 9/8/08.  And then she’s conquering the world starting with Spain.  So get ready.

Went to a goodbye dinner / dancing / drinks for Daniel Lawson at Cous Cous and New York Deli.  I had a great time catching up with several people and laughing a lot, but perhaps the highlight of the evening was DJ’s very flattering photography.  Now that’s what I’m talking about.  Thank you sir.

Early Sunday morning Dan got home from tour, and we spent the day making breakfast, running errands, going to church, and playing 90s Trivial Pursuit with Chet, Courtney, and Blake.  I love board games, but Trivial Pursuit is officially not my cup of tea.  I suppose it should have been obvious to me that someone who does not watch television should never play this game.

Yesterday was the most relaxing day of the weekend, if not the summer.  We were up with the sun and picking our way across the rocks at Pony Pasture, long before the crowds arrived.  It was quiet and beautiful.

For breakfast we gave the Village a chance (the first one I’ve given it since around 2004) and it was great.  Good diner food with good service: this place has improved immensely.  After breakfast we watched movies all day (One-word reviews — Shawshank Redemption: Yikes, My Big Fat Greek Wedding: Yay) and grilled out some leftovers before watching a little Kids In the Hall and making Nanaimo squares for Dad’s birthday today.