Living in Brighton is delightful. As predicted, I find it much more more pleasant than Allston if only for the reason that my living room does not feel like an enclosed extension of Comm Ave. Living with Dena and the kitties has indeed been great; I like it muy mucho. Since getting my new camera phone, I have begun allowing Mushkillah to begin her modeling career. I better get a cut of the profits when all is said and done.
Cat personifications aside, I had a very grown up morning today. I decided to get up about 10 minutes earlier and T it to work from the Washington Sq. C line stop instead of the (slightly) closer Washington St. B line stop. For those of you not hailing from Boston, the B line is the slow, rattling, undergraduate cousin of the C line, usually filled with a higher percentage of obnoxious students, noisy tourists and children. The walk from my apartment to the C line stop is almost idyllic compared to my former surroundings. Lawns ... side streets ... those sorts of things. Best of all, the train ride into Hynes was essentially silent. Folks who looked dressed for work or some other local activity were mostly hunkered down reading the Metro or a library book, and we zipped along from stop to stop landing me at the Hynes at 9:40 -- a mere 25 minutes after I'd gotten on the train to begin with.
In the mood for chocolate, I proceeded to Starbucks instead of my usual Dunkies or mug from home, in pursuit of a mocha. There, I bumped into the ASM with whom I worked on Semele and we chatted about her work on Mahagonny at Tanglewood, and how everyone refers to it as the Rise and Fall of the City of Mahogany (a dark laquered wood, not a Weill-created metropolis). While waiting for my mocha, I chatted with the barista about the sample cups of Kenya blend coffee which apparently, when consumed with orange, tastes like orange. Instead of suggesting that perhaps that was because it was being consumed in conjunction with an orange, I happily accepted the free coffee and went to work.
Feeling less psychotic, I was steeled my nerves to actually *read* the e-mail from a certain opera company which, after a phone interview yesterday, I was sure had rejected me outright for a snazzy admin. position. The e-mail, titled, "This morning's interview" had loomed ominously in my mailbox since the previous afternoon and, having skimmed it, I had come to the honest and whacked-out conclusion that I had been rejected. In reality, however, they were merely requesting writing samples, which I of course have in spades and so I sent them. Two hours later, my favorite supervisor at work suggested that I talk to the Big Guy about taking on the open full time job in the Fall. Options and quasi-options!
In other, less grown-up news, I finished Twin Peaks at long last. Aside from being a beautiful mind-fuck of a series, it also revived my inner Fan Girl, who had been dormant since the 7th or 8th time I saw Rent in 8th grade. I would be completely happy to go to a Twin Peaks convention dressed in some sort of wacky, expensive costume and suspend reality in honor of how awesome David Lynch is. It's not every day that I want to suspend reality and act like an idiot. Oh wait. Yes it is. :)