dreaming@echonyc.com

i probably never told y'all about this date i had in college.

i was working in the computer lab, which i did for about three years, keeping an eye on the machines, making sure the printers didn't go haywire, swapping tapes for backups, and venting my natural sadism upon first-year statistics students. ("sorry, closing time." "...but the project's due tomorrow!" "and yet...strangely...it's still closing time.")

every three years miami had what they called charter day ball — basically an excuse for people to get dolled up in formal clothing, drink themselves into a stupor, and attempt to waltz. they even had waltzing classes beforehand. (in keeping with my general college practice, i skipped class and figured i'd fake it.)

this one guy named eric, who'd spent countless hours in the computer lab, sent me e-mail asking me to the ball. i hadn't ever spoken to him — i suppose he'd seen me working behind the desk and was taken with my charming manner. either he was awfully hard up or he liked his women crabby.

at the of his e-mail, he signed his name, "eric (bloodaxe)."

that's right. i went to the ball with a guy who liked to be called bloodaxe.

he was about five feet tall and four feet wide, with long, straggly hair, a mangy-looking beard and mustache, and aviator glasses. but he was also a very nice, gentle-seeming fellow, and i saw no reason not to go with him. so i went to the thrift store downtown, bought a smashing black beaded cocktail dress, and waited for prince charming to whisk me away.

where i got whisked was to the local chinese restaurant. (in oxford, ohio there was only one, and it was about as good as you'd expect a chinese restaurant in oxford, ohio to be.) this restaurant served no liquor, but bloodaxe, suave devil, offered me a swig of grog from his army surplus canteen. mm, no, thanks.

then, on to the ball! our efforts to waltz were frankly ridiculous, as he was about two heads shorter than i was and trying very hard not to stare at my bosom. we contented ourselves with sitting at a table and making desultory conversation. ("so do you play dungeons and dragons at all?" "no. god, no.")

he said he had a surprise for me, so we finally bagged it and went back to his dorm. (i politely pretended to be impressed by the several medieval-looking swords he had proudly displayed.)

it had begun to snow, though, so his surprise was ruined: we would not be taking his fur throw (!) out into the woods (!!) with candles (!!!) and tape-recorded music (!!!!) so he could regale me with the haiku he'd written especially for me (!!!!!).

i wish i were making this up.

"would you like to hear my haiku anyway?" he asked forlornly.

if ever there existed a cue to exit, that was it. i fled, practically breaking my ankles in my high heels, desperate to get away. haiku, for god's sake. haiku.

i never saw him again. (i think he was too embarrassed afterward to use the computer lab.) i hadn't thought of him in years, but this news story reminded me of him.

all hail bloodaxe!

Posted by dreaming at 03:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (32)

courtesy of my mom, who's just back from camp bloch, here are my two oldest nephews, david (a harry potter fiend) and thomas (who calls me either "the dreaded aunt julie" or "my beloved aunt pickle," depending on mood):

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last night we had a great thunderstorm. paul and i lay in bed facing the big picture window and watched it. ("ooh! that was a good one.") there were a few fireflies who'd braved the storm, and they blinked very brightly, very frequently, as if they were on urgent firefly business.

we also played a game. it seemed to have to do with geography and classification. like:

straits. formosa, bering, hormuz...

canals. panama, erie, suez...

countries whose names have changed. thailand, liberia, bangladesh...

vehicles of exploration. kon-tiki, golden hind, endurance...

i could do this for days. i never understand it when people tell me they're bored. how can that be when there's a universe full of palindromes and first lines of poems and rhyming couplets and song lyrics and interesting license plates and anagrams and...?

Posted by dreaming at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (46)

here are the things i worked on yesterday. i was intrigued by the possibility of dyeing white-on-white and black-on-white fabrics instead of the plain old solid whites i'd been doing. theoretically the inks used should provide a kind of resist, allowing the dye to settle in only on the unprinted areas.

so into each color i put three pieces: a plain white one, a white-on-white, and a black-on-white. i did a color wheel, two pieces for each color (high intensity and low).

here's the color wheel on just plain white fabric:

...and here it is on the white-on-white, which was printed with tiny bubbles:

...and here it is on the black-and-white, my new favorite fabric, printed with random scraps of calligraphy:

a closeup of the writing:

there's such a difference in value between the plain, the white-on-white, and the black-on-white, though they were all in the same dye bath. on the left are the pieces from the dark blue bath; on the right, from the light:

the effect was even more striking when i interleaved the blues in value order rather than according to which bath they came from:

although i did a purple run, i'm leaving those out of the photos because they're truly vomitrocious. i think i've invented a new color: bruise.

finally, this piece is fairly ugly, but it serves as proof-of-concept: you can also dye white-on-black. i'll be going back for more of this fabric for sure.

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five-word review of bend it like beckham:

because i'm discreet, paul has been heretofore unaware of my vast collection of bhangra cds. tomorrow begins the forcible bhangrafication.

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here is the ringtone i currently have on my new phone.

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this is really good cake.

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i like parties where people don't know each other well because everyone ends up pulling out their best stories, the ones you've perfected, the ones where you know when to pause for the inevitable laughter to follow.

last night i told the group about my run-in with our new york neighbor over my flagrant misuse of the laundry facilities.

paul talked about his evil grandmother, and about finding her remains in his mother's basement.

jen talked about her youth spent fighting with her mother and making up over sara lee pound cake, every time.

kaley told us about making a mild joke during a photography critique that turned her nice german classmate into a howling shrew.

chris talked about burying his mother's ashes in a cardboard box tied with christmas ribbon.

and emily described unleashing years of pent-up cell phone rage on an unsuspecting gentleman at the counter in a coffee shop.

Posted by dreaming at 01:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (2)

this morning on my garden tour i noticed that the lavender plant sported several little spit-like clusters clinging to its stems. i was sure they were slug eggs, so i got out the sevin (the very sight of which will scramble your dna faster than you can say "egg sac") and carefully doused each clump.

turns out they're probably not slug eggs. i guess we'll find out what they actually are when my garden is overrun by spectacularly mutated mystery creatures.

Posted by dreaming at 12:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (34)

on the menu for tonight's dinner guests:

cheese and crackers. i am keeping this one simple, stupid.

grilled salmon. a paul specialty, marinated in soy sauce, lemon, ginger, garlic, and eleven secret herbs and spices.

steamed green beans. (see "cheese and crackers" above.)

orzo with snow peas, spinach, lemon, and thyme. i asked our guests a few days back whether there's anything they don't eat. the only thing they don't like: mushrooms. spacker that i am, i forgot this and this morning found myself sauteeing mushrooms and shallots to add to the orzo. happily, i remembered before the point of no return. ("what am i supposed to remember about mushrooms...? something about mushrooms...OH.") unhappily, my only remaining onion was pristine on the outside but rotten on the inside. a quick trip to the grocery store restored harmony and deliciousness to my kitchen once more.

buttermilk country cake with caramelized nectarines and creme fraiche. thanks to terry for her excellent tip about the cake, which comes from rose levy beranbaum's the cake bible, the closest a book can come to kitchen porn. and thanks to paul for cutting up a million nectarines.

so what are you having for dinner?

Posted by dreaming at 01:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (66)

hey, look what we just saw in the front yard:

and what we saw standing on the step of our front stairs, looking through the window next to the front door:

Posted by dreaming at 07:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (4)

last night i dreamed paul took me to a down warehouse — you know, where pillow manufacturers shop for the finest in goose fluff. i jumped into a gigantic pit of it. to my surprise i bounced very high, and when i landed, there was no shock at all. just lovely soft bouncing, higher and higher.

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contrary to my lifelong plan, paul and i didn't get married there, but i can always have my funeral at waffle house, like this lucky gentleman did:

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turns out you can fall off a segway.

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let's talk for a second about hummingbird tongues. they have them! i've seen one. (so can you.) i was in paul's office the other day pestering him, and i saw a hummingbird on the window feeder. i watched it stick out its tongue repeatedly and delve into the recesses in the feeder. paul couldn't see it, because my big old ass was in the way, but he saw one today.

Posted by dreaming at 07:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

paul and i caught the last episode of masterpiece theater's version of white teeth. we both enjoyed it quite a bit, and wished we'd seen the whole series — maybe we should actually read the book, eh?

as we were discussing this while the credits rolled, the announcer was telling us, "visit our web site to learn more about masterpiece theater or to order the companion book..."

that's right. it's no longer a book that stands on its own, or even source material, it's an adjunct to a television show. we live in grim times.

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here's what came out of the dye baths today:

this should have been more fuschia, and i'm not really sure what went wrong. i'm going to overdye it with pink to see if i can get it to be closer to what i had in mind.

i'm pretty happy with this run, except that there's a pretty big step between the lightest two colors on the gradient.

these last three were made rather haphazardly — i just scrunched or folded each piece differently, then crammed it down into the of a plastic cup, then poured the leftover dye stock over each one.

Posted by dreaming at 06:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (1)

i was shuffling through my high school's alumni site and found out many interesting things about my friends and former classmates.

as for occupations, many of the women are now "homemakers." many other women are "moms." some are even "mommies." they all like scrapbooking. i didn't see any who claimed to be "oprah-watching couch-warmers," alas.

one male classmate is now a fitness model. one female classmate is now a public health bioterrorism training officer. we've found the anthrax killer!

a lot of them play golf. next to "children," more than one of them has entered, "none that i know of."

one of the classmates i passionately loathed is now a venture capitalist. i would have been happier to see "shoe salesman," i confess, but i guess the vc shoe fits.

shari got married with eight bridesmaids. susan's a stay-at-home mom who likes scrapbooking. colleen is a primary school art teacher. harold is a doctor, mason sent e-mail giving no clues whatsoever, and mindy is a table-dancer in juneau, alaska.

okay, i made that last one up, but it's entirely plausible, all things considered.

Posted by dreaming at 01:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (1)

today paul pointed out an eggshell on the deck below the nest — i guess we have hatchling(s). we didn't see the mother bird anywhere around, nor did we hear any telltale peeping, so i hope everything's okay.

Posted by dreaming at 01:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I will write you a letter,
June day. Dear June Fifth,
you're all in green, so
many kinds and all one
green, tree shadows on
grass blades and grass
blade shadows. The air
fills up with motor
mower sound. The cat
walks up the drive
a dead baby rabbit
in her maw. The sun
is hot, the breeze
is cool. And suddenly
in all the green
the lilacs bloom,
massive and exquisite
in color and shape
and scent. The roses
are more full of
buds than ever. No
flowers. But soon.
June day, you have
your own perfection:
so green to say
goodbye to. Green,
stick around
a while.
        — James Schuyler

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our first orange poppy bloomed a couple of weeks ago. now several new blooms are burgeoning, and two sprang into loveliness today. what i didn't know is that our plant is configured to bloom in two colors! today we have orange and pink!

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so there i was, just minding my own business. well, actually, i was looking through my office window down into the front garden. my garden, my business.

anyway, i spotted a butterfly and almost broke my neck barrelling down the stairs to take a picture.

it's on a bush that's become excessively overgrown. i'm appreciating this bush more since the great lilac debacle; it blooms at the same time as the lilacs would and it smells very sweet. apparently the butterflies think it's a-okay, too.

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inspired by ranjit's minipups, i have built a minimanx:

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i didn't want to waste the dregs of the dye from the rainbow project, so i put a single length of fabric in a dishpan and poured the colors over it. then i let it stew for a good 36 hours. what finally emerged is so ugly that i don't think even the stinkiest of hippies would like it:

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the fruits of yesterday's labors over the dye vat:

i tried to convince paul that it was more fun than snorkeling, but he didn't believe me.

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