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Name: La Nina
Location:
  New Jersey

I'm a Jersey girl without the big hair or the accent (well, most of the time anyway), but with all of the bad driving and the penchant for weekly manicures.
Oh, and I'm an interior design student. That's how all of the weird terminology comes into play.

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Monday, May 16, 2005
Boxing
BOXING - Mixing paint by pouring from one container to another several times to ensure thorough mixing. (from the Golden Glow Paints Glossary of Paint Terms)

Lately I find that I can't eat.

First of all, I don't have any food. If I did have food, I wouldn't have anything to cook it in, as my pots and pans are packed. Even if I did have anything to cook it with, I have no plates to put it on and no utensils to aid me in the consumption process. All of it is packed and sealed into labeled boxes.


Feels like a song and dance routine, but it's really not.


It's very disconcerting to have a home that's not functional. I mean, sure, I've bought plastic utensils and paper plates (though I forgot the cups -- that made me very irritable the first time I wanted a glass of water), and managed to retrieve the microwave out from underneath the boxes the living room where my dad had put it on Saturday. However, I truly miss my beloved crock pot (I had all of the ingredients ready for another batch of chicken and dumplings and had to toss them. Egads!) and dislike the idea of ordering a pizza just for me. So much goes to waste.

In addition to the 20+ boxes currently blocking my view of the loveseats -- don't cry for me, Argentina, those things are not very pretty and far from comfortable -- I've thrown out at least a dozen large garbage bags' worth of stuff. It's amazing the smorgasbord of completely useless bits and pieces one can accumulate in 5 years of living in one spot. Receipts for tarot reading sessions, MC Hammer pants, the dashboard to a Daewoo Nubira, a lock of Andy Warhol's hair, silly things like that. Thank goodness for storage closets, or else I would have been buried in my apartment ages ago.


Time for a fun and exciting game of "Where's Nina?" (or ¿Dónde está La Niña? in my name's native language)

One thing that this sense of displacement has given me is an even larger desire to finally see this move through to completion. (Odd how excitement can make time speed up and slow down at the same time without resulting in inertia. But I digress.) All I know is that I won't be able to rest until this is over, and I haven't even packed the bed yet.

    posted by La Nina @ 3:52 PM   8 Comments

Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Luminary
LUMINAIRE - A complete lighting unit consisting of a light source with a means of distribution (reflector and/or refractor), lamp positioning (socket), lamp protection (housing) and a provision for power connection. (from the Young & Co. Glossary of Electrical Terms)

My free time today (surprisingly I have tons) has been overtaken by what I consider to be an engrossing read, so forgive me if my entry is a bit short. Actually, you should a) thank your lucky stars that I wrote an entry at all, and b) when you're finished laughing at suggestion a), heave a sigh of relief that I'm not yammering on as per usual.

The book is Lauren Bacall's newly updated autobiography, By Myself and Then Some. Ms. Bacall is something of a personal idol of mine. Both her career and her personal life have become stuff of legend, and two of my Favorite Films of All Time -- the noir classic The Big Sleep and the funny, frothy How to Marry a Millionaire -- have been dubbed as such in no small amount due to her performances.


Bacall today...

On screen, she exudes a cool chic and a sometimes earthy sort of glamour. In the book (at least so far, I've got loads to go on this puppy), she's incredibly self-deprecating and a very endearing Nervous Nellie.

Regarding her first audition for a Broadway musical:

"Finally my turn came. I gave my name -- no experience except American Academy of Dramatic Arts. I gave my sheet music to the accompanist, a faceless young man -- I was so terrified I didn't see a thing. Mr. Abbot called to me to move out to center stage. First he asked me to do the time step again -- which I could do, God knows, but my knees were shaking so badly I even had trouble with that. Then the dreaded song. I wanted to hang on to the piano, but that was out. I sang it, or talked and sang it, or did something with it. I got through it terribly without confidence or voice -- at the end I was told to leave my name with the stage manager, thanked for my trouble, and the next name was called. I knew I'd never hear from them. What an experience! It was like going to the chair."


...Bacall back then.

That's what I love about a good biography: getting a look behind the persona and really seeing the person. I hardly expected to read something like that from the woman who at the age of nineteen uttered the immortal line, "You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow." Now that's acting.

    posted by La Nina @ 4:20 PM   3 Comments

Thursday, May 05, 2005
Crawl Space
CRAWL SPACE - A low space above or below the house, just tall enough to permit such work as jacking up a sagging ground floor from below or installing ceiling fixtures above. (from the Creative Homeowner Glossary)

I have dug myself into a hole.


It's been nearly a month since I last wrote here. I've found the vicious cycle of blog malaise to be extremely overpowering. Odd, since malaise is hugely based in apathy.

I have dug myself into a hole. Holes suck.

I'm not apathetic though. In fact, quite the opposite. I just feel that I've got nothing to write about since this whole period of my life -- i.e. the time I spend here until my train takes me to Boston on May 24th -- to boil down to anxious anticipation. All I can think about is the future. The present is just something I tolerate, and why write about something I just tolerate? I mean, how boring is that?

I am now slowly crawling out of the hole. I'm ruining my manicure in the process, but so what?

Only now am I realizing that this is totally the wrong approach. Instead of tolerating it I should appreciate it for what it represents. When I look back on this period in a couple of months, I'll value it as a time when I woke up each morning full of excitement and hope. As a time when I spent every free moment I could with my family since my visits with them will be most likely few and far between once the move happens. As a time when I could stick my head outside and and revel in the fact that I wasn't friggin' freezing. And that memory would be a much clearer one if only I would just get out of my funk and document it. So here I am.

I am noticing lots of other holes in my path.

Recently, I've watched some of my favorite blog writers fall off the map (
Aussie Shiraz and Pink Poppy, where are you?). I can to an extent understand why. Life gets in the way sometimes. But since this is all about me after all, I hope that they come back as soon as they realize the void their absence has placed in my life.

A big gaping hole, if you will.

LINK ALERT
Thanks for putting up with me while I work out my *ahem* blog issues. If you're more up for entertainment, Wading in the Velvet Sea has a truly enjoyable music compilation challenge. I could spend all day with it, but somebody else really ought to take a turn first.

    posted by La Nina @ 3:59 PM   1 Comments