Apr 25, 2010 11:21
Either no one is around, or everyone tumbles in at once. My best friend is joining the Peace Corps tomorrow, and they are sending her to the Republic of Georgia! So she stopped off in New York to see her friends here, and I got to spend most of the day with her, running around buying last minute stuff. She has been living in California, so we don't get to see each other that often, and it was a treat, but she will be gone for 2 1/2 years! I had to look Georgia up on the map - farther east than I'd realized.
Jim and I bought her a laptop to take with her. She thought she'd commissioned us to buy one that she would pay for, but we had been looking for something to get her that wouldn't be just a burden, and this opportunity just fell in our laps. She was stunned - but very happy. Now she'll have a machine she can put Skype on, and we can keep in touch.
The very next day, two friends of ours from Boston came to stay with us for Saturday night, go museuming, and go to a show in Queens (an outer borough of Manhattan, for those who don't live here in the center of the world). I don't usually have friends stay over; in a one-bedroom apartment, making room for two more people can be a challenge, but we made it through. We went to the Museum of Modern art to see two shows. One was a retrospective of Henri Cartier-Bresson that was just too overwhelming - it was as if the curator had thrown up every print in the store-room. The other was "Marina Abramović: The Artist Is Present", a retrospective of a performance artist who uses her body, mainly, and other bodies. But it was mainly film of what she had done, odd actions that somehow put her into an altered state, either from exhaustion or in some cases deliberate pain. It seemed very connected to her Slavic background and experience, and sometimes very sick. Neither was a successful show for me, alas.
Mad dash to Queens in our friends' car for the show, which we got to about a minute before the lights dimmed (thank goodness - half of this foursome is paranoid about being late and they were going mad in the back seat). The show, a revival of 'Closer Than Ever' by Maltby and Shire, was a treat for our friend Kate, but I couldn't wait to get out of there and get home. I found it very dated. And trite. And sentimental. And boring. One of the songs has become a sort of cabaret classic, but the others - never mind. The women were in the original cast 20 years ago, and I'm afraid it showed.
This morning, breakfast and they took off. I felt very inhospitable, but very glad to see them off. They were bickering more than usual. And it's hard to see a friend who is a diabetic eating all the wrong foods (pancakes with syrup for breakfast, for instance). There's no good way to tell her she's killing herself, if she doesn't acknowledge that by now.
It's the first time I wasn't happy with a visit from or to them. Have to think about that.
In the meantime, I need to recoup some private time. I'll finish my mystery story, go to the gym later, just be quiet. Gather myself for the week ahead.
I'm fearful of retirement, but after three days like this, free and quiet time sounds like an awfully good idea.
closer than ever,
moma,
theater