Life is going on, as it is wont to do. I've tentatively chosen my BW (Best Woman) ensemble for The Amalgamation (pictured at right.) My mom and I agreed that red is a bit spicy for a wedding, but since it'll be in the Red Room at the Palazzo Vecchio, perhaps I'll just chameleon myself right into the background. And if Sister Scarlett has taught me anything, it's that a pale blonde can rock the red.Remaining things to do concerning The Big A: book lodgings for Florence, Madrid and Barcelona (yeaaaaaah... gotta work on that). Also, I must get RyanAir tickets from Florence to Madrid, aaaaand that ever-so-important (albeit undesirable), return ticket from Europe to Bostonia. All these processes should be sped up by a call to Rach sometime tonight or tomorrow. While I was hoping to get a new iPod for the trip, that may have to be put off... indefinitely. But I'll see where I stand come April.
I've assembled a small list of New Year's Resolutions, which I've never done before, simply because I believe it's a day many use to excuse themselves from changing at any time - hunkering it all down to one day - as if an effort for change couldn't happen on any day.
Now, to thoroughly put my foot in my mouth, here are my resolutions.
1. Chill out.
1.a. sub-resolution: Quell the desire to slap people on the back of the head who walk slowly. (Note: this sub-resolution has already been broken.)
2. Be bolder.
3. Exercise daily. I've been good, but I can be better.
4. Get something published; a vague and largely unknown notion to most who know me, but I'd like to put my crappy something out there.
5. This is petty, but see Eryn's #5.
6. Be the best BW I can be not only for The Big A, but continue to be the BW I can a non-Amalgamation context, as well.
7. Get back to art.
8. I'm sure there was something else, but like Sad Gelato Man in the winter months, it escapes me. Probably something about not commuting 20 hours a week.
I watched 8 1/2 again, starring my main man, Marcello Mastroianni (molto alliteration!) Italian is such a phenomenal language. While it's not quite as smooth as French, it has a rhythm and attitude of its own. The sounds of the words are... well - I can't think of a word for it in English. The language can be casual and friendly or powerful and assertive - it almost possesses a sort of languid sexuality that can be manipulated through tone and delivery. Even giving directions looks and sounds lovely - e dopo la luce, vai a la destra. When spoken with a Roman accent? Bellisima.As for the image to the upper left, I imagine that will be what The Amalgamation will be like. Apparently, I must find a hat.
4 comments:
when you say that your sub resolution of "not slapping people on the back of head when walking slowing" has already been broken......does that mean you've done that???? hopefully the slow walker was Ansley and not some old Irish woman.
love the BW choice. very appropriate.....i need to work out a shawl situation once i choose my dress...ya know in case it's freddo.
No - I haven't slapped anyone - not even brother dearest - on the back of the head for walking slowly. I've wanted to though. And that's what I was trying to get leave behind me: the desire to slap people who walk slowly on the back of the head. But sometimes you just can't change who you are.
i didn't say this before but slow walkers are the WORST. by nature i'm a fast walker, i know where i need to go, there's not perusing involved, i mentally pick point B and then from point A i GET THERE. fast. i hate it when you're walking down a narrow sidewalk with a slow walker (sw) in front of you and you become trapped. it's the worst and when they look behind them they see my eyes of wrath and become frightened....and either move, walk faster, or continue trapping me (those ones are called brave slow walkers)
Sometimes, we get tragically turned into SWs - when we're stuck in a crowd or line... and when a fellow, more fast walker (FW) behind me gets impatient and starts giving me flat tires (I assume you know what I mean), I turn around and give them the "I am one of you (only not so much of a dick) and I am trapped, too and can't help but be walking slow right now - apparently you didn't notice the 300 people in front of us - and if you give me another flat tire, I will start walking backwards till I hit your feet... and I'm wearing heels" look. Usually it works.
I am a fan of the "move it or lose it" rule... what the "it" refers to I have no idea, but I'm inclined to agree with it.
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