cityblog

The internet has been in and out and in and out at home, which is infuriating and more than annoying, but seriously, what can you do?

Last night we had artichokes and ginger chicken and watched The Talented Mr. Ripley, which I’d never seen and Tom hadn’t seen in about nine years, I guess. (What? Freshman year of high school was that long ago?) Great movie. What a cast. I want to read the book now.

Filed at 1:54 pm under Life, Film
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I’d just like to link to Josh’s most recent article on Relevant (which, yes, I published) because I think it’s so good, and it deals with a subject close to my heart - what if you didn’t recognize or conceive of your calling to the arts/creative life until life had already started?

Filed at 4:50 pm under Life, Art
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Cool site: See Jane Work.

Filed at 3:18 pm under Work
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Umm, what?

Filed at 11:34 am under Daily Goings-On
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Wow, bummer. I feel like my elementary school education is in peril.

We looooove our Mukka Express. So yummy, so easy to clean, sooo good.

I went to a workshop at the Manhattan Center yesterday given by Edward Tufte, who is to information design what Jakob Nielsen is to web usability. In other words, he is the man. And I got all four of his books as part of the conference fee, which is awesome. And it was a day “off”, which is always a good break.

We bought our surrogate wedding rings yesterday in the East Village. The ones we really want are just way out of our price range right now and needed a lead time that was almost longer than our engagement, so we figured we’d just go for the gritty version for now and get the real ones when we can.

Other wedding things are coming along. We’re doing what we’ve termed the “burn party” on Saturday night with Ken and Sarah at the apartment. W00t w00t.

We’re in single digits today.

Filed at 10:53 am under Daily Goings-On
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Lately, I keep having those I-can’t-believe-I-live-here moments, with an added frisson of I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life. Most of them come when I’m on the train to work, which travels in inky blackness but then bursts into the sunlight on the Manhattan Bridge to cross the East River, and the water and buildings in the sunlight have an Amelie-level intensicolor feel and everything is sparkling and pristine.

Constant aboveground travel numbs the senses to all the beauty, I think. I drove thirty miles every day through fields and forests and a quaint old city for four years of college and rarely saw what was outside my window; and now, when I go back, I’m stunned by how lovely it is to see the sky and the trees. I’m frustrated that I can’t find those greens and blues in tin cans to slather on my walls. And that there’s no texture that’s like the river’s ridged limpidity.

Most of it lately is from the streaming direct almost-autumn sunlight (anticipating the perfect New York fall and soft sweaters and the ability to sip hot coffee in the morning again) and the fact that this autumn will start with the most blatantly life-changing event I’ve ever experienced, to date, and I think it will be all the more reason to love this season.

Anyhow, if you don’t know what it is, if you haven’t experienced C.S. Lewis’ “joy” or Emily’s “flash” then track the light, see through your windows, experience texture, unbind your wonder-member and fall in love again.

Filed at 11:14 am under Life, New York City
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I am beginning to write my life story
On blank sheets of paper
The one that I write everyday
Whether or not I pick up a pen
The days: pages
The nights: illustrations
My mouth: dialogue
The years: chapters

Characters come and go
The protagonist which is me
The antagonist which is me

Somedays I lose the plot
And flounder
I can’t remember why I dreamed of what I now have
Joyless hours lay about
Like fish on the bank of a river
Gills no longer even heaving
And these are the pages I wish I could leave out
Pages where nothing much happens
Pages where I sabotage myself
With muddled thinking
And lack of will
And the pale pasty flowers of malaise
I paint all over my walls
With the paintbrush called
What if
If only
Instead of
What is

But every writer knows we have to write to find out
We have to write to discover what wants to happen
We have to write to know where the story needs to go
We have to write to learn why we are here
We have to write to find we are not alone

And a few days back I had an epiphany
I am not going to talk about my epiphany with anyone
Because I have a long list of failed epiphanies
That I talked about too soon

But in the meanwhile
Here are a few reasons why I might bother to get out of bed
I can work to serve my future children
If I should ever have any
Give them the gift of passion and persistence
In my own life’s work
I can write to bring some heart and warmth to others
However few
I can strum music to make the world a little wider for my friends
I can fling handfuls of muddy joy at a whitewashed church
That all too often misses the point
And missed the point again
A church that would rather be white than alive
I can give back what I was given and let it be multiplied

I want to put on this threadbare tuxedo and serve
Is this not what any good film does
That makes us want to watch our own lives
And take care not to miss the good parts
Any song that makes us want to pull the car over to the side of the road
Any book that someone labored and poured over
That makes us weep and smile together
A painting that makes us breathe deeply
The air sweeter because of its existence
(Close your eyes and still see it)

These are all gifts that were ultimately the work of servants
Whether or not they knew what they were doing
They served a thirsty world a glass of water
The best they could offer
Surprising Jesus and even themselves

There is at times much dogged effort that goes into creating good things
But by mopping our brows with the backs of our hands
And continuing to run after something that we sometimes cannot name
We hope to see our love made physical
Find our feet have left the ground
And hello, we are suddenly being skyjacked by joy (are we not)
And it is fleeting

And by doing the least we could do
We occasionally find ourselves doing more than we knew how
Last first
Lost found
Unbound

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
Roll your eyes:
Now it’s your turn

Linford Detweiler (from here)

Filed at 10:05 am under Life, Poetry
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They’ve been burning the coffee at work lately, and it just tastes dreadful. Boo! Hiss! I don’t want to have to buy coffee, but this is not a Good Thing.

So Tom and I went up to visit my parents this weekend, mostly to see my Dad before he starts his treatments. Dad is holding up ok, though he’s feeling worse as time goes on, which is to be expected. Mom said he had an EKG yesterday before his first treatment and he’ll have to continue to have EKGs because his heart has trouble handling the arsenic. (Isn’t it just great to think that they’re pumping poison into my dad?) He is doing outpatient, for now, and so far is fine at home.

We had a good weekend, hanging out with my family and some family friends, eating a lot of junk food, watching Junebug, buying wedding shoes, getting lots of people fitted for suits and tuxes, and drinking really random things at Starbucks. I had an iced caramel macchiato for the first time, which is much better than the too-sweet hot version.

I have a good-sized smattering of work to do this week; programming, design, writing, and oh yeah, my job. We also need to actually buckle down and buy a bed this week, and probably curtains. Mmm. I want sleep.

Or maybe just better coffee.

Speaking of coffee, Tom and I had a discussion on the train ride home that I keep thinking about, regarding beverages and their place in relationships and social circles. Specifically, we were thinking about the differences between the effect a cup of coffee and a glass of wine have on the brain. It ended with the idea that a mugful of coffee sharpens the intellect and makes you think better on your toes (it doesn’t really keep me awake - it just makes me smarter), but a glass of wine makes you slow down, stop thinking about all the things that you need to do and all the circumstances of your day, and focus on the conversation at hand and the person in front of you.

I guess it’s not that interesting, but it’s mildly intriguing to think about.

I seriously need a haircut. I don’t think I’ve had one since April, and my hair is yicky. It just needs a trim. I am so haircut-o-phobic and afraid to let anyone near my hair with scissors (which explains why I go to Bumble & Bumble, since they cut with razors). Anyhow.

Filed at 10:53 am under Daily Goings-On, Dad Update
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Disclaimer: Don’t get me wrong, I love and miss my alma mater, good ol’ RPI. I miss the subculture, the intense geekitivity, the late nights in the Union playing WebBoggle, the stupid jokes that nobody else would understand unless they’re from someplace like MIT. I have wonderful memories from there, like the really late Friday nights running around doing crazy scavenger hunts on campus, the incredibly delirious awesomeness that was Student Orientation advisor-world, senioritis-induced spring afternoons spent stretched out on the grass with the Wall Street Journal crossword puzzle, and all the time we spent making fun of the professors during Creativity & IT class.

It’s just, the longer I’m gone, the more I realized how it really messed up my head.

Add it to the list of “the ways RPI messed me up” - I become easily obsessed with projects. I can’t rest till it’s done. I feel horribly guilty if I’m doing anything other than working on the project.

Case in point; I’ve been working on the IAM website, doing some major brain surgery. I’m rusty on my PHP/MySQL code, but the gears are slowly creaking and turning. So I’ve been spending a lot of time working on it in the last four days or so - in fact, most of my time.

Now, this is a good thing. I like doing this work (it’s creative and it lets me try new things at a relatively low risk and they’re actually excited about implementing web 2.0 ideas). I’m enjoying it.

But suddenly, I’m back in RPI mode. What is RPI-mode, you might ask? The best example is that infamous capstone project of the fall of my senior year, for which I did a whole stinkin’ lot of coding, architecture, and documentation. I was also working two jobs (both coding), as well as interviewing for full-time employment (which meant I was booked up or out of town a lot more than I should have been, as there were a LOT of companies who interviewed me), and oh yeah, I had three other classes.

In other words, if I wasn’t sleeping - and that was “usually” - I was coding, or talking to people about coding, or sitting in classes where we talked about coding. I often spent eight to ten hours a night after class and work coding. Sixteen to seventeen hours a day.

I couldn’t read a book, I couldn’t watch a movie without feeling guilty about not coding. My social obligations dropped to the bare minimum because of work. I remember sitting down and working out that if I stopped sleeping, I might have a chance in hell of actually finishing all that work.

Of course, it ended, and we got an A, and I did graduate that spring, and all is happy. And I think it’s important for people to work their butt off in college, if only to realize how not-hard they have to work when they get out into the “real world”. This whole full-time job is a piece of cake compared to earning a degree at RPI. And by gum, when you earn a degree there, you really earn it.

On top of it, as any RPI student knows, illness, bad weather, terrorist attacks, family conflicts, sleep deprivation, and pretty much anything short of death is no excuse for not showing up at class or turning in an assignment late. Several professors would drop you an entire letter grade for missing more than one class.

In short, RPI turned me into an involuntary workaholic.

So anyhow. I am learning, right now, that it is actually ok to take time off for recreation and enjoyment, even if you have a project in the works. It’s ok to schedule some time to do the work, and then to stop doing it when that time is up. It’s even ok to have to push a deadline off when you have family/life conflicts. People are nice and they understand and they will not drop your letter grades if you can’t finish everything.

Other ways RPI messed me up:
- I’m still a solid A- type. We didn’t have grade modifiers when I was there, so a 90 was as good as 100, and a 90 was about all I could pull on the energy I had left (except in the infamous-and-still-bitter-about-it cases of Computer Science 1, Calculus, Introduction to Literature, Database Systems, and Introduction to Logic). At any rate, I want to be better than that.
- Saying you earned a “business” or “management” degree still prompts involuntary snickering, even though I know that, in all reality, you probably worked hard and learned a lot for your degree.
- I am only now recovering from a serious allergy to the color pink.
- I’m constantly catching myself mentally referring to technology as a “real job”.
- The sheer amount of women on the street and in the subway still surprises me.
- I have a hard time keeping myself from getting all patronizing when people ask me technical questions.
- I snicker at people who use IE.
- I’m still figuring out how to act around girls who didn’t go to RPI.
- I am never going to be able to settle for a “good” computer. I’ll always need an awesome one. :P

Filed at 4:42 pm under Life, Geekitude
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Ok - this bears repeating, because it will be awesome:

SAVE THE DATE: Thursday afternoon, February 22, 2007 through Saturday evening, February 24, 2007 for the next IAM Conference in NYC! Topic will be “Redemptive Culture” and key note speaker will be Jeremy Begbie, Founder and director of the international research project, “Theology Through the Arts,” and author of Voicing Creation’s Praise: Towards a Theology of the Arts.

Other presenters include David Hegeman, author of Plowing in Hope: Toward a Biblical Theology of Culture (thenativetourist.blogspot.com); Joshua Trent, Chief of Staff of the Office of Refugee Resettlement (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services); and possibly the Limon Dance Company (TBD.) Location will be the Tribeca Performing Arts Center.

Tom and I will be there, come hell or high water, and you should be too. You’ll be sorry if you miss it.

Filed at 9:45 am under New York City, Art
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I just don’t have much to post today; August is exceeding quiet, and I’ve been scheduling and rescheduling a meeting today with an incredibly busy trader who is putting out fires left and right. So I’ve just been sitting around doing not too much, and my email has even slowed to a crawl, but it’s all good. I’d rather be paid to be bored than be bored for free, right?

Tonight I’ll go home and chug on through some more work for IAM - more fun, though I am much rustier on programming than I used to be. I did manage to get a pretty solid database structure together for them this week, and I just got a script working that logs users in and out, completely with mildly-encrypted password (woohoo!). I rock, verily, and sometimes.

After doing a little more with that, taking out my trash, and finishing a logo design for another client tonight, I think I may actually break down and read for a while. My brain is performing a meltdown from lack of real use, and I need to do something that does not involve sitting in front of a screen and jabbing at little black plastic squares.

I did, however, have some lovely writing-related news yesterday, and that brightened the day up considerably. A first: a real print article. (One of the profiles from the book I contributed to - Angela’s profile, in fact - will be in the next print issue of RELEVANT, and I’ll be credited under my married name, Wilkinson) But this is an article I’ve genuinely pitched and had accepted and not had the editor just quit returning my emails. Hurrah! More details when it gets closer.

I am slowly going through my weekly routine of eating everything in my refrigerator. I cleaned out most of the vegetables yesterday, though I have three yellow tomatoes in my fridge that need eating, and still have a bit of ice cream. I also suspect that a bunch of the food in my kitchen cabinets has seen better days (a lot of it was from Tom’s kitchen, which means it was bought when he lived in Boston, which was not recent) and need chucking.

Things have started disappearing from our wedding regstries! (Shameless plug 1 and 2.) We got the first one yesterday from some awesome friends:

We also have several wine goblets and the ice cream maker, which is good news for the future Wilkinson family. Tom is as in love with ice cream as I am with pizza, so now he can get it whenever he wants. Experimentation is the name of the game.

Lastly, the dude who made this hat has my utmost respect.

Call me a cold New Yorker, and then please, please, stop standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Filed at 4:42 pm under New York City, Daily Goings-On, Work, Wedding
2 Comments

Over dinner, at a goofy little French place in the neighborhood, he asks how I got into advertising . . .
“It started as a day job”, I say. I tell him that I thought I’d write plays or novels or appliance manuals at night. But advertising made my I.Q. go down; every night I had to work to get it back up to regular.

Melissa Bank, in Zoetrope: All Story

Filed at 11:01 am under Life, Work
1 Comment

Yes, I’m still alive.

My dad’s waiting on his doctor to get back from vacation, but he is resting at home and will likely be admitted to the hospital for treatments next week. So, I’m hoping to get home this weekend to see them beforehand.

We decided, after talking with my parents and Pastor Stan and a few other people that the best option was to keep the wedding and reception on September 2, but to have a small private ceremony early in the morning at the hospital on Saturday. This way, Dad can be there for the “real” wedding, but our community of friends and family can be involved as well. We’ve toned it down a bit at the reception (no dancing!) but we thought this was for the best.

Other than that, life plods gently along. Tom’s sister Jessica (hi!!) was in the area last week and we spent Sunday with her, culminating in a Jars of Clay concert. Judd & Maggie and Christopher Williams were the opening acts, and both were excellent. I’m always a bit skeptical about the quality of opening acts, and I’m usually bored when listening to songs I haven’t heard before, but this was great.

And Jars . . . well, they were awesome. It’s long been one of my life goals to see them in concert. They were rocking out, which appears to match their upcoming album (intriguingly titled “Good Monsters” and dropping on September 5). But they also played a ton of old songs, including “Flood” and “Love Song for a Savior”, and even inserted a bit of “Worlds Apart” into another tune. Dan Haseltine’s voice has been one of my favorite voices in music, so it was just awesome to see them live.

Filed at 10:03 am under Daily Goings-On, Music, Dad Update
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Pictures from yesterday and from the Jars of Clay concert.

Filed at 1:14 pm under Photos
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Dad, on the phone to me tonight: Yeah, my shoulders and neck just hurt so much . . . I felt like diving headfirst off the deck.
Me: Wow, that would leave a crater.
Dad (chuckling): You are your father’s daughter.

Filed at 9:00 pm under Daily Goings-On
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Ohh, praise God, it’s raining.

Filed at 7:30 pm under Daily Goings-On
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Please pray for my dad. It looks like his leukemia has returned. They’re going in for a bone marrow test tomorrow to see how bad it is.

Filed at 1:04 pm under Life
8 Comments

Oh! I forgot to mention that we saw Philip Seymour Hoffman at Joe on Sunday morning before church, with his little kid who was clutching an Elmo doll. Poor guy - he was trying to hang onto his son, and shut the front door, and I was trying to open the door and practically wrenched it out of his hand. Whoops.

At any rate, we so rarely see celebrities anymore that it was very fortunate for Sarah & Sarah to actually have that experience.

Filed at 2:09 pm under Daily Goings-On
3 Comments

Pictures from this weekend’s visit!

Filed at 10:16 pm under New York City, Friends, Daily Goings-On, Photos
1 Comment

My dear friends since childhood came in last night - both named Sarah, of course. They’re here for the weekend and are throwing me a bachelorette party tomorrow night, as I turned down the bridal shower idea. (They’re just not my thing.) And though we all grew up in the Albany area, neither of them have spent much time in NYC, so they are out gallivanting while I sit here at a desk and write documentation. Tom-the-dearest wrapped early yesterday and hung out with us last night, and he escorted the girls around Brooklyn this morning. Good fun. Good food. Good coffee. ;)

It’s going to rain again.

Filed at 3:26 pm under Friends
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Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
when there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
Grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand,
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
St. Francis of Assisi

(By way of Katherine’s blog. I remember singing this at Sound Foundations (basically music camp) back in high school. It is lovely. And so good.)

Filed at 9:26 am under Life, Faith
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Tom and I drove home from Albany this Sunday listening to Grey Ghost Stories, one of Linford Detweiler’s instrumental albums. We were talking about something entirely different when Tom laughed and said, “Stop. Listen.”

He reached over and backed up the CD just a hair, and we listened and heard a lovely feminine chuckle in the middle of one of the melodies. “Karin,” I said, and Tom nodded. (Karin Berquist & Linford Detweiler are the married couple that anchor Over the Rhine.)

I told him that I think someday, when we’ve done some real work, someone’s going to ask us who we took as modern-day role models, and we’re going to name people like Linford & Karin and Alfred & Alma.

Alfred, of course, being Alfred Hitchcock, and Alma being his wife of over 50 years. We saw Psycho a couple of weekends ago and watched the “Making of Psycho” documentary afterwards, and Joseph Stefano, the screenwriter, mentioned that he knew the screenplay was good when Alfred came back and said, “Alma liked it.”

In fact, a biography of Alma on an Alfred Hitchcock site says that “she was his assistant in virtually every production” from when they married onward, and that in a biography, “Hitchcock mentions several times that Alma was his harshest critic, and had a great eye for finding out inconsistencies in the rough cut.” Alma was an editor and a screenwriter. IMDB says, “She was Alfred Hitchcock’s closest collaborator . . . contributed to all of her husband’s films, usually uncredited. She would be shown stories, scripts, storyboards and all elements through the final edit.”

Tom and I, when we heard about Alma in the documentary, turned and grinned knowingly at each other. That’s us. That’s where we hope to be - Tom being the brilliant creative people-person guy, and me being the girl who makes things happen, and both of us finding scripts we like and fiddling with them till they’re perfect. Maybe we’ll write one together.

Rarely have I had real-person role models, but now I do. Alma. (Karin too.)

Filed at 4:20 pm under Daily Goings-On, Film, Love
5 Comments

The wedding invitations finally went out late last week, and Tom and I spent the weekend in Albany picking tuxedos and meeting with our officiant, DJ, florist, caterers, and cakebakers. Lots of cool stuff set up but in the interest of keeping elements of surprise for those who read the blog and will be at the wedding, I’ll hold off on most details until after the wedding.

Speaking of that, people have begun to ask if I’m moving the blog after the wedding (since I won’t be Alissa Clark anymore). The short answer is yes, but if I told you the details, I’d have to kill you. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you all stranded.

In non-wedding news (well, not really), my dear friends Sarah and Sarah (no typo) are coming to visit this weekend. We’ve all been friends since we were little tykes in Sunday School and now we’re all doing the wedding thing together, so they’re coming to cram into my Brooklyn pad and have a grand ol’ time.

I have been secretly devouring fashion blogs lately. What is going on? I know that clothes aren’t important (I mean, consider the flowers of the field, and all that), but I do like being pleasant to look at and I like to think that I have a personality. ;) I was looking around the subway today and noticing how feminine women’s clothes have gotten in the last few seasons, especially with the whole dresses craze this year. So refreshing, and I still can’t get over how jaded I was after four years of RPI.

And along those lines, I was thrilled and delighted that the very selective Beacon’s Closet took five of my items (out of two monstrous garbage bags) - am I now a hipster?! - and I have a bit of store credit to play with. It’s the kind of place where the turnover is rapid, but I may make a few stops there to see if I can come up with some new clothes for le honeymoon in Cape Cod (yay!), or maybe some cute shoes. I am so low in the shoe department. The only sandals I own anymore are men’s Teva flip-flops from last summer and a very old olive green pair of Old Navy flipflops - oddly, also men’s. I need girly shoes.

I remarked to Tom yesterday as we were driving back from Albany that he lets me be a girl, and I love it. He wants a wife! I think a lot of guys want a buddy, but with feminine appendages, if you catch my drift. Ahh, I love my Tom. (I still love hockey and geek toys and once in a while have a sip of Brooklyn Lager, so hey, some things never change.)

Here’s my deep thought for the day (ha) - have you ever contemplated just how loved you are? Even putting the intense, unrestricted love of the Father aside (which is hard to do, but it’s such an underpinning to life that it’s almost unnecessary to say) - nearly all of us are blessed with families that love us, friends, children, dogs . . . the list goes on. And most of us are relatively unloveable in our raw state. I’m so glad this capacity was placed in our hearts.

It’s worth remembering.

Filed at 12:32 pm under Life, Faith, Love, Wedding, Girlyness
2 Comments

On Tuesday night, I went to Symphony in the Park with IAM. When Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony concluded, and the fireworks were over, the hundreds of thousands of people crammed onto the Great Lawn started filing out. (My remark: “I am so glad we’re not all driving out of here.”)

Nobody was really expecting the immediate crashing massive thunderstorm, and I personally got caught under the awning of a building for half an hour waiting for the rain to let up. It didn’t, and despite my lack of umbrella, I decided I didn’t want to be out there till midnight and have to take the late night trains. So I made a break for the subway, realizing as I left that I had no idea what street I was near or really where the edge of the park was, exactly.

I looked for buildings, finally found Central Park West (fully soaked at this point) and came out at 77th Street. Unfortunate, since there’s a subway at 81st and a subway at 72nd, but none at 77th. I trudged down to 72nd and joined the literal throng of people waiting for the downtown train - any downtown train.

But there’s where I had to smile. You may or may not have experience New York City before, and in any case, you likely know that New Yorkers have a distinct reputation for coldness and rudeness. That pretty much means that you haven’t been there during a thunderstorm.

Three guys, obviously musicians themselves, were singing at the top of their lungs, and a few others were singing along, grinning, talking to the people around them. The train got to the station and I squeezed on, sliding into the six inches between the wall of people and the door and managed to push far enough in to let the doors close. The guy who I was pressed into kept apologizing and finally offered me a bottle of wine (he had three unopened ones in his bag) - I declined, but it was sweet. Everyone was talking to people they clearly didn’t know about the music and the evening. The whole city turned out for the symphony, and they all went home together, best of friends.

Yesterday it was hot and dry again, and most people were back to reading and listening to music on the subway. But I’ll insist, over and over . . . this is a great place to live.

Filed at 10:33 am under New York City, Music
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The last 24 hours have been a wee bit on the stressful side, culminating mostly with me (generally a polite, friendly person on the phone, who isn’t even rude to telemarketers) demanding emphatically and assertively that a certain company providing certain invitation-related services to us fix their own mistake at their own expense and hand-deliver the results. It worked.

But it’s just been a lot to deal with, and then today has been so busy at work (I know, right?) that I didn’t get to get out of my chair until about 3pm.

So I threw caution to the wind, picked $1.95 in change out of my wallet and the cup of pennies I keep near my desk for emergencies such as this, and marched down to Starbucks to purchase a fruit slice cookie.

Ohhh. Soooo good.

Filed at 3:21 pm under Daily Goings-On, Facepalm
2 Comments