My feet will be carrying my camera and my brain to the newly refurbished Brooklyn museum this weekend. The last time I went to the Brooklyn museum it was with Graham, back in the 90's. He and I decided to cut class to catch that "controversial" exhibit that Giuliani was pissing all over because someone smeared shit on the crucifix? Remember that one? So Graham and I set off for the museum. We got lost. 2 hours worth of lost in Brooklyn. When we finally found a place to park, the museum had just closed. So basically the last time I was at the Brooklyn museum was the last time I was not at the Brooklyn Museum.
I was thinking of calling Graham and getting him to go with me again... but the last I heard is that he was addicted to heroin, and living in New Rochelle (called 'roachmotel' to the locals). We had a photo class together like 2 years ago - he invited me out. I wanted to try his candy, just to see what heroin was like, but all he wanted to talk about was Alaska. He wanted to move there, to get away from everyone. I remember telling him "well that's definately the place for a person that wants to get away from everyone." But I never really pushed the Alaska thing, because G was the skinny/emo-ish/nirvana/messy dark haired boy with blushy cheeks who squinted at the sun. I never associated him with nature - so I didn't want him going there. So he never went & I never tried heroin. Hopefully he went to rehab, and is living with his parents or something. I could only hope that much at this point.
Yesterday in spin class, we had this hippie granola crunching earth mother for an instructor. My hippie heart loved every mantra minute.
I realized that I had to write about her when she yelled:
“WHEN YOUR PEE IS YELLOW, THAT MEANS YOU ARE DEHYDRATED. DRINK YOUR WATER KIDS!!!”
I couldn’t help myself from laughing VERY loudly – practically throwing my knees out because I had to stop and gain composure.
Basically, yelling to this group of sweaty, mildly-accomplished go-getting 9-5ers living on Manhattan’s upper east side didn’t quite get the response I fear she was used to getting at Bikram Yoga class held down in the west village on ‘chakra Mondays’.
Other things she likes to say while we are oozing sweat, TLC pumping in the background:
"You are a circle. We are circles!! Feel the energy circle about the room. Feed off of each other's energy."
I tried. All I came up with was a dirty look as I reached out to touch the perfect circle of male ass next to me.
“close your eyes and pretend that you are in a secret, loving place.”
I closed my eyes. For some reason all my brain could conjure was the toasty laundry mat across the street where the two Hungarians make my towels smell like ash.
“This next hill is like all of our hills in life. Up and down. Up and down.” (imagine this being said while heavily breathing...)
There was only one male in class. I noticed him blushing. Or maybe he was still out of breath from me grabbing his ass.
In closing, when we were done with our “journey” we were told to stretch and “give ourselves hugs”.
It was the first time I walked away from the gym feeling physically “worked out” while on the phone to my therapist.
(from a RS article - April 19. 1992)
"Cobain and Love were married on Feb. 24 in a secluded location in Waikiki, Hawaii, after Nirvana's tour of Japan and Australia, with only a female nondenominational minister and a roadie as a witness."
I want to meet this roadie. I might make it a new life goal. Why not.
On Sunday morning, I went to the hospital because I stepped on a nail.
I've never been to an NYC hospital, (that’s 8 years people) and was naturally nervous.
I called Doug, to ask him if going to the hospital for a nail puncture was the right thing – because, you know people are dying in NYC emergency rooms. He told me to go, and suggested I check out this quiet hospital that “no one ever thinks to go to when they are dying.” It was the hospital across from Gracie Mansion.
So I went. Doug was totally right about the hospital. My nail puncture was the top item of business, from the minute I walked in. They checked my vitals, asked me questions, and joked around. It was the emergency room experience that I hope all future ER experiences emulate. So – mad props to New York Presbyterian Hospital.
Two thoughts before I go.
1. On my way there - I was standing on the street – waiting for the bus – in pain. After about 5 minutes of waiting – I looked at all the taxis passing me and said “oh, I guess people don’t take the city buses to the emergency room?” Thinking that was most likely a negative – I splurged on a taxi.
2. When it was all over, I asked the nurse –
“So what would have happened if I didn’t get the tetanus shot?”
“Well you might have gotten tetanus and died.”
That got me thinking about someone else who has suffered a little bit of nail trauma. Jesus.
It got me thinking that maybe this whole crucifixion business has been blown out of proportion. Maybe, just maybe, (since there were no shots or anything like that back then) Jesus died immediately of tetanus?