Enchiladas and Book Judging

I think I earned my day off today - or, at least, judging from the 11 hour work day that I suffered through yesterday, and the weird day/night swap that I did the day before, I'd say I have fair reason to take a day off from stuff, even if Simon isn't granted the same luxury - so I spent it in rare luxury. That is to say, cleaning, doing dishes, taking trash out, gathering things from my car that I hadn't gathered before, and generally finishing the sad unpacking job that I'd done two weeks earlier. I've never been one to settle anywhere quickly, which is evidenced by the fact that I didn't need to pack some things at the Senate Street house because I'd never actually unpacked them. I'm not saying that this place seems like a home, or even like someplace I could come home to for an extended period of time, but if my hat goes here, then it should hang in relative comfort.

I opened up the windows this morning, which was really pleasant too. The nice breeze blowing in my bay windows and the long shower I took really started my morning off right, as did the text saying that my visitor would be making it a little earlier than I'd thought. I took my time getting the apartment in order - less for him than for me, because I really just needed a catalyst to straighten everything up - and then headed uptown to get my bearings and try not to get lost while showing him my part of the city. He took a little longer than either of us had anticipated, which led to me spending about two hours wandering the area close to Penn Station, and taking my time in the massive Borders right next to Madison Square Garden. I ended up reading on the little square area in front of the Borders, face to the sun, intoxicated by the people and the buildings and the beautiful weather.

That center area of New York really is the best for people watching, too. There seem to be tourists in almost every part of New York - which itself seems to be comprised half of hardened natives and half of awe-struck outsiders - but most of all in places like Madison Square Garden, Times Square, and Penn Station. We counted fully six or seven obviously different nationalities, and had a fun time guessing all the cultures in between.

I bought Camus' "Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays," which had been on my list ever since my history professor last semester had us read "The Stranger," which really rocked my world. Not to say that I'm going to turn into an existentialist, but a lot of the things we talked about in class impressed themselves on me, and I thought the smart thing to do would be to become more well-read on the subject. But that brings me to my point of subway observation of the day, which is that if you pull a book out, I will judge you on that book. I will be judging you hard, too. That's not to say that I'm any kind of elitist - in fact, something more like the opposite is true. I considered the fact that if I were to see someone holding Myth of Sisyphus, I'd probably think that person was a pretentious wannabe-philosopher with one philosophy class under their belt that just wants to be seen reading something more important than Harry Potter. I then thought I'd rather be seen reading vampire-lit than pretentious douche-lit. My friend at this point goes, "I don't want to know how you'd react to what I'm reading." I jump on this. "Fine, fine," he says, and pulls out this little purple book simply titled, "Genre." "That's Jimmy Gilmore-worthy right there," I say, and then can't help myself for laughing anymore.

We ate at a nice little Mexican restaurant in my neighborhood - he's convinced he should help me find places in my area to eat, since I don't have a kitchen and riding to Manhattan for dinner every night isn't practical. It's a noble goal, and I feel like we're well on our way to at least some accomplishment of it. I had a really fabulous enchilada, the like of which I haven't had since the last time I was in Kansas for Grandma's enchiladas.

Tomorrow it's back to the grind. Probably at least seven hours in the theater proper, with quite possibly some rotoscoping tomorrow. Funny tidbit - Julia told me yesterday I should start writing a blog of my experiences. Simon chimed in that I already had, but when I referenced it, goes, "oh, I don't read it." Julia had a good time giving him hell for that for a little while, but when she let him get a word in edgewise, he goes, "well, you know . . . she might write it differently if she knew I read it!" It's true, Simon. And if you're reading this now, go back and look at all the nice things I said about you - I would genuinely be less likely to be so candid about my pleasure to be working with you if I thought you read it. But since I'm pretty sure you don't, I tell you I'm talking smack while secretly telling the world what a great boss you are.