random thoughts – Day 1,891 – (Wednesday) –climate control

After the UML commencement events over the weekend, my drive downtown was nearly deserted today. Light traffic volume, a string of green lights, minimal a**holery from other drivers. Amazing. This was followed by finding a convenient parking spot on the third level of the garage, despite the entire basement level being closed. It’s the way commutes should be.

The climate du jour, on the other hand, was not the way it should be. I was dressed in a spring-weight sweater with cropped pants with booties that exposed the ankles a bit. Before leaving for the office, I decided to grab a jacket. A survey of the suit jackets in the closet led to nothing that coordinated. The final choice was a down-filled short jacket from the coat closet. The color worked perfectly with the pants. I felt a little stupid wearing a sweater and a down jacket in late May, but I hate being cold even more, so I went with it. It was chilly outside, but I figured it would warm up.

A rose blooms in Lowell, 5-21-25.

After scoring the great parking space, the walk to the office was done quickly, partly to keep warm. I always check the pocket garden on John Street. The weeds had been cleaned up, things were trimmed, and a single pale yellow rose was in full bloom on one of the rose bushes. So lovely.

Inside the office, it was also chilly. The A/C, over which we have next to no control, was blowing Artic level air. The down jacket remained on most of the day, supplemented by a blanket over my lap and legs. In late May. Indoors. It wasn’t just me. One colleague kept her leather coat on all day, another wore a fleece jacket, and two of the guys were wearing thermal vests. It seemed more like February than May.

Knowing the A/C couldn't be turned off, I boosted the temperature setting to 80 in an attempt to at least reduce the volume of cold air intruding in our space. It didn’t seem to help and the frigid air continued to circulate. I imagined my blood turning to slush. 

Kitty sleeping in a window.

Just before 5:00, I bolted for the door as fast as my frozen self allowed, carrying two empty boxes from the office that can be used for decluttering the house. It felt no warmer outside than it had been at 8:15 am, but there was an imaginary carrot on my imaginary stick that propelled me forward. One quarter of a mile ahead was my car with heated seats, a heated steering wheel, and an enthusiastic heater, where I had full climate control.

I broke stride for a couple seconds to look in the windows of Lazy Cat Café as I passed. Juggling the boxes, I snapped a couple quick photos of the resident tuxedo cat asleep in a kitty sized chair in one of the windows. The reflections are always a challenge with that building, and it almost looks like the cat is sleeping peacefully in the middle of the street.

The car seat felt wonderful. The heater blew warm. It was a big improvement. Control is a wonderful thing. At home, changed into fuzzy fleece lounging pants and a sweatshirt, I realized I had a sore throat. More exactly, just on one side. Ugh. Could it be from freezing all day? I don’t know. At least I wasn't freezing.

Kiki, the adorable but not snuggly cat.

There was a supper of homemade vegetable rice soup to try and soothe the sore side of the throat. Later, ice cream followed. Neither effort helped for very long, or even at all. Swallowing hurts on one side. Tonight we will learn now long I can go without swallowing.

After feeling cold all day and later enjoying a sore throat, it will be an early night snuggled in bed under several blankets with a book. If only Kiki was a snuggly comfort kitty, we could create the perfect tableau of domestic tranquility. Maybe someday. I haven't given up. It's only been 15 months. We have time.

random thoughts – Day 1,890 – (Tuesday) – crunch time

Today had a mission. The gas tank had been low since Sunday and I forgot to deal with it in my haste to get home from dance practice. The pre-work plan, since I figured I’d be up at the butt-crack of dawn anyway (and I was), was to dress and drink coffee. Once sufficiently caffeinated, the litter box would be checked for an offering made by the feline sovereign since last night, collect said offering, stop for gas, then deliver the offering to the vet when they opened at 8:00 so they can stop sending me reminders about Kiki’s overdue fecal test. This would put me back home in plenty of time for an on-time 8:30 login. Of course, today there was was no offering in the litter box and I didn’t leave the house before work. 

The realtor came today for the exterior photos, to get them done before a storage pod is delivered. This was rescheduled from Sunday when it was cloudy and the forecast for today was supposed to be sunnier. It wasn’t. Then it was. Then it wasn’t. The pictures happened, just not under the picturesque blue sky we had wanted. The clouds looked really cool, anyway. And now I can nail down the pod delivery date and get busy.

Dance bags and costume parts.

The after work plan was to bolt from the desk at 5:00, get gas, then head to dance group, arriving early to run through the duet with the dance partner and figure out how much stage space we have. At the gas station it was discovered my wallet was at home, and I had to return for it. By the time I got back for the gas, I wasn’t headed out of town any earlier than most Tuesdays, but I still got there early enough to check what we needed.

At least dance practice was good. Well, I messed up the duet, but I didn’t fall off the stage and break anything, so I’m calling that part satisfactory. One of the group numbers I'm in had to be run two or three times, but that helped. 

Dancers tested out costume parts for look and movement and all that stuff. I had my harem pants and top for one number, but I didn’t take the time to change into them and just wore my regular yoga pants and a hoodie. Our dress rehearsal date was set. As our dance leader noted tonight, "we are not in play time, we are in crunch time." For me, it's crunch time on many levels -- dance, work, house, life.

Crunch time.

On the ride home, the car activated the autopilot feature and pulled itself into Market Basket. I didn’t know why I was there, but there was plenty of parking. I looked at the prepared salads and the discount bakery items and bought chicken cranberry finger sandwiches, cherry ice cream with chocolate chunks, and a box of Crunch 'n Munch from a display at the register. Even now, I still don’t know why I was there. But I have ice cream and Crunch 'n Munch, taking crunch time literally.

random thoughts – Day 1,889 – (Monday) – long day

It’s been very light in the mornings, which wakes me up too early and then I can’t get back to sleep. The next thing I know, I’m up, dressed, and drinking coffee a half hour before the alarm setting.

The early rising allows for more leisure and even chores before work. This morning, I picked up a book I haven't touched since the wrist was freshly broken and the 600 page tome was too hard to hold. The kickplate below the front door was painted and the threshold at the side door got a second coat of paint. It was quick work, barely 15 minutes, and it used up the rest of that can of paint. There was a breakfast of coffee and matzo brie (two eggs scrambled with half of a matzo cracker). The driveway was swept (again) to deal with the annoying helicopter tree thingies that blow in.

Even more x-rays.

The afternoon included another visit to the surgeon’s office for a follow-up for the crunchy wrist. It is stiff and sore in the morning and is still bad whenever I need to grasp and twist or pull (like pulling weeds or opening jars). There were more x-rays and the doctor said the bone looks good and the problem is the tendon rubbing as it passes over the plate, as noted the last time. 

The current thinking is that the plate will need to come out, but it’s still too early to do it. There is a chance I would need a cast after plate removal. We’re in wait and see mode, and I need to go back in six weeks. It seems that the sh*t show known as 2025 is loaded with gifts that keep on giving. 

Food planning was practiced today. After the proper breakfast, lunch was leftover pizza from Saturday. For supper, the minimal hunger level allowed for time to cook the brown rice that requires 45 minutes. Healthier food is time consuming.

While the rice cooked, there was a debate about what to have with it, because the initial plan of rice hadn’t been fully developed. The pantry was ravaged and in the end, the rice was mixed with some spaghetti sauce, canned diced tomatoes with chilis, red pepper flakes, green pepper, onion, and black beans and topped with queso. There is more plain rice left for a cold salad or cheese and broccoli, or some other combination.

After supper, time was spent in the horror show of the guest room that never was. It’s horrifying, because the stuff loaded in there when I first moved in is mostly still there, plus the new junk that has accumulated in the past nearly nine years.

There are costumes from when my sister and I were teenagers dancing ballet. Miles of net and chiffon skirts in an array of colors from when we were dust motes, sun rays, dragonflies, and god only knows what else are stuffed into a bag and a box. For ages, they lived at Mom’s, but somewhere along the line, I became the custodian.

There are binders with years of B&W negatives and more with color slides. There are boxes of loose photos, matted photos, and dozens of matted and framed photos. The darkroom bag, unused since the Tennessee times, is still packed with whatever was needed for whatever process we were working with the last time I took the alternative processes class at Austin Peay State University Community School for the Arts.

There is a big tub of completed jewelry and tie-dyed tops from when I was selling at a farmer’s market and craft fairs. I haven’t done any markets since I moved to Lowell, but does that mean I never will again? I don’t know. Do I want to do an Etsy shop? Probably not. Or maybe. I don’t know. There were several more random vintage clothing items found in the junk room which need to be added to the items gathered on Sunday.

After an hour, the only “progress” was familiarity with the contents of four big tubs, a new pile begun for a charity drop, and consolidation of some Halloween costume elements in a storage bag. I was really hoping to find the dance top and belt I’ve been searching for over the past several weeks in the Halloween stuff, but that didn't happen. I have run out of places to look for the items I held in my hands last fall. 

There was a single brown paper shopping bag filled with gift wrap remnants, some random small boxes, and some very sturdy tubes that I really had to convince myself to discard because they are really good tubes that were saved for potential use in some still unimagined art project. They are much sturdier than the flimsy tubes in the paper towel rolls. And I’m pretty sure I will suddenly urgently need them five minutes after the recycle truck rolls away next Monday, but for now, they are in the bin.

The wind was strong all day, and it was cloudy again. It's been so cloudy the past couple nights that it's been dark at 7:00, which stinks. The sunset was noted as 8:05 for today, but there was no long evening light to enjoy thanks to the cloud cover. It feels like life is playing lots of little pranks. 

random thoughts – Day 1,888 – (Sunday) – workin' it

It was a full day. Before heading off to dance practice, I laid down a coat of paint on the threshold between the enclosed porch and open deck. I swept the driveway, which was full of sand left from the winter storms, thousands of dried twirly helicopter things from the neighbor's tree, and an unacceptable amount of large metallic confetti that mysteriously landed in my driveway and yard last Sunday while I was gone and did not magically blow away, despite my wishes.  

Future irises of The BungaLowell.

After dance, there was a weather-dependent plan to take the exterior photos of The BungaLowell. It had been tentatively scheduled based on an earlier in the week forecast for sun today. Instead, it was cloudy and sprinkling as I drove back. The photos were pushed out a couple days. By the time I got back home, more helicopter thingies had landed in the driveway.

There was time spent going through the clothes in the cedar chest to consolidate the vintage items and hopefully soon find a someone who buys vintage so I can sell it. I never wear it anymore, and unless I choose to resume my college-era starvation diet, it likely won’t ever fit me again. As part of the clothing review, a bag of tee shirts, skirts, jackets, and sweaters was filled to be donated to a charity, and then I drove the bag, plus a box of books and home décor items to St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Shop. I popped into the store for a quick visit and the place had more merchandise than I have ever seen there. Miraculously, I managed to buy nothing. I came close to buying a camo pattern hoodie for a costume component for an October performance, but the zipper was problematic and I passed.

Rhododendron.

From St. Vincent, I headed to Lowe’s for some bark mulch that is on sale at five bags for $10. There was a large number of bags that were ripped, spilling mulch all over the place and it was like a treasure hunt finding intact bags. 

Waze took me to and from Lowe's through neighborhoods I had never explored, which was interesting and also depressing. For as long as I have lived in Lowell (nearly nine years), I have spent a shamefully small amount of time exploring anywhere outside downtown. 

At Lowe’s, while being mindful of my still quirky wrist, I managed to wrangle two unbreached bags of mulch into a cart, then into the car. The bags were heavy and my wrist reminded me it is still tender. I kept waiting for it to snap all over again. With any exertion, the scar turns bright red, which is also unnerving.

Weeds were pulled and the mulch was wrangled out of the car and then spread in the front yard flower beds. The bleeding hearts are fading a bit, the irises are sending up buds, the rosebush has tiny buds forming, and the rhododendron is beginning to flower. The weather delay may result in better photos with flowering plants.

Possibly more mulch
than grass out front.

The front and back yards were mowed. It’s only Mid-May, and the back yard is thick and has been cut twice already. When it comes to mowing, I  think I like a drought better than a rainy season. Last week, the back yard was so dense and overgrown that it took about 40 minutes, but today, I was able to get the front and back yards mowed in less time. 

The front yard is pretty scrappy, so there isn’t much to mow. There is almost more mulch than grass out front because it's still the early, crappy lawn season. Usually, some form of greenery creeps into the yard in early summer, so in a few weeks it should be filled in. Or maybe I'll just get some spray paint.

As if all that wasn’t enough activity for one day, the litter box needed to be cleaned out, which Kiki supervised from her perch on the staircase. The week’s trash was bagged for pickup and the bin was rolled to the curb, and I could finally think about supper. The house is full of ingredients, but not any prepared food, so it was cereal with orange juice because I already had pizza for lunch and the rice I wanted would take too long to make. The various types of rice in the cabinet take from 15 to 40 minutes to make, and even 15 minutes was too long.

random thoughts – Day 1,887 – (Saturday) – salon, kitchen studio, pizza

It was time for my hair trim. When I moved from Tennessee and was living with Mom in Fitchburg, and then for the whole time I have lived in in Lowell, I’ve been going to my friend’s salon in Worcester. For a while, the appointments were every six weeks for color touchup, but since letting it go gray, the intervals are closer to 14 or 15 weeks. If not for my bangs in my eyes and some split ends, it might have been pushed out by another few weeks.

Freshly trimmed.

Very often, the trip to Worcester includes stops at Saver’s and Aldi, and sometimes the Habitat ReStore, but today, I had things to do in Lowell. I left the house at 8:45 to get air in the driver front tire, then had to navigate some extra traffic due to UMass Lowell commencement exercises. I arrived at the salon around 9:50, which is when I learned my appointment was actually at 10:30. Oops. It was a nice chance to sit in a lovely and quiet space and relax, and not be looking at all the stuff around the house I should be dealing with.

After the salon, the plan was to drop off a bag of books at Pollard Library for the annual book sale. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to park and I continued home. It was the last day for drop off, and now there is a tote bag of books in my car until I figure out where I want to donate them.

The afternoon was blocked out to work on choreography with my duet partner, who has more experience with creating choreography than I do and thank the gods for that. We made great progress refining and adding to the choreography in my kitchen after relocating the table and two chairs. As a studio, the kitchen is a pretty good space, except for the absence of mirrors. 

Later, after all the dancing and my friend had left, I realized how hungry I was. There was a green pepper and onion pizza delivery from the preferred pizza purveyor. So tasty. In some fluke of my normal pizza consumption pattern, I hadn’t had a pizza delivered since March 25^th. Unbelievable! Orders in April and earlier in May had been for a burger, quinoa bowl, and beef gyro dinner. 

Pizza supper.

I had been temporarily burned out on pizza after several consecutive work meetings that had pizza for lunch. As a little life lesson, I learned there is such a thing as too much pizza, and the necessary break from eating it really messed up my food planning for a couple months. With no slabs of pizza in the freezer, packing lunch for the office required thought. Planning. Assembly was required. I’m glad the pizza aversion is now over and food planning can resume it’s normal procedure.

random thoughts – Day 1,886 – (Friday) –a long day and a what if

Fridays usually have a vibe that I like. The traffic is generally a bit lighter, the parking garage is less full, and the mood in the office is breezy. The time often passes quickly and then boom, it’s the weekend.

Except for today.

The morning traffic featured an extra special dummy in front of me. This driver in an SUV pulled onto VFW and took a wide left as if entering the far-right lane to take the right onto Bridge Street. Instead of entering the right lane, they chose to overshoot the lane to go straight and then stop in the intersection, blocking access to the far right turn lane and screwing up the flow for me and the several people behind me. I was the a**hole blowing the horn for them to move. They didn’t move, but they lowered the window, tapped the roof of the car, and raised the window, whatever that meant.

We finally got out of the intersection and cleared the way for the drivers from another direction who had had a green light for several seconds and couldn't move. Vehicles flowed down the lane, around the corner, and over the bridge and I was able to shake it off. Kind of. I focused on the latest display of brightly colored dresses in the shop window just across the bridge.

The rest of the day dragged butt. I was hungry and thought it was time for lunch, but it was only 10:00. I made myself wait until 11:00 to eat my lunch of rice, black beans and salsa, which I spilled all over my desk with an errant hand movement.

Kitty Yoga!

I took a walk to enjoy the 80 degrees and sunshine, and made it into the Lazy Cat Lounge to check out the cat-related items. The cat room was closed for their nap time but a Tuxedo kitty let me admire it in the glass doorway. It was too late in the day for coffee, so I bought a brownie. On the way out, I noticed the board with events listed -- like Kitty Yoga!

At 3:00, a colleague and I were on Teams Message bemoaning the glacial pace of the longest Friday in the history of Fridays and work. It was brutal.

The ride home had light traffic and the annual scenes of UMass graduates posing for photos near the stone sign for North Campus. From across the intersection, I could see this year's crop of graduates rotating in and out of the annual coveted photo spot. 

I don’t remember taking photos on the Fitchburg State campus when I graduated, but I was a commuter student so there wasn’t exactly a bounty of special campus memories for me. I attended class, went to work, went home to my family, and hung around with the locals I knew in high school, so it felt exactly like being in high school. If I could do it over again, I would go away to college for the full experience of learning independence and who I was.

If there was a time machine and I could have a do-over of a single chapter of life, I would probably redo college. The only other school I had applied to was UMass Amherst, and I often wonder what my life would look like had I gone there instead. I didn’t go because I was p*ssed I didn’t get into the dance program (for reasons I never questioned), and instead of choosing another major and auditioning for the dance program again as suggested in my letter from the school, I scrapped the dream and went to Fitchburg State, my default school. I wonder what direction my life would have taken had I gone to school in Amherst with the reputable English program and dance programs. I’ll never know.

random thoughts – Day 1,885 – (Thursday) –flying solo

Rolling out to Nashville
to see Jack White 5-15-12.

On May 15, 2012, basically a million years ago at this point, I was living 45 minutes outside Nashville, and Jack White was playing a show at Ryman Auditorium. If you haven't been, the Ryman is a great place to see a show. The sound is wonderful, the seats are all decent. I had been to the Ryman to see Chris Isaak, The Raconteurs, a Grand Ole Opry show, and probably some other groups I have forgotten, and always liked the venue.

I wanted to see Jack White, but was a super single singleton with a very small friend circle and didn’t have anyone to go with. I hadn’t bought a ticket, but in the days before the show I started checking Stub Hub. The afternoon of the show, there was a ticket available for a great seat at a good price and I pounced on it.

After work, I dashed home and changed out of my marketing agency office clothes and dressed in some going out for the night clothes. The night’s wardrobe choice was a short black skirt, tights, and boots with a black satin embroidered jacket. Off I went, on my solo concert mission. And it was great.

I had never gone to a concert by myself. There hadn’t been anyone I wanted to see enough to deal with going alone. But Jack White and the familiarity of Ryman Auditorium got me out of my bubble and into a concert alone. And it was fun. 

It was hard not having anyone to whom to say “that was amazing!” or “whoa, those costumes!” A couple people complimented my clothes and the people seated nearby were all very cordial. Overall, it was a positive experience. Flying solo definitely beats attending something with someone who doesn’t want to be there, can't wait to be out of there, and is making sure that I know that they are doing it "for me."