Taxes, Grues, and Fresh Air
Fri night I hadn't finished what I wanted at work, but couldn't finish it in less than half a day, so I dragged my heels about leaving :( Got home, poured myself some Bailey's, and did my taxes. 70mins, which I believe is my fastest. Discovered that I earned a lot less last year than I'd thought: I'd've done things differently if I'd known and as it is, I'm holding off on filing so I can check if I can reverse anything. Bleh. On the plus side, I got a MUCH bigger refund than I expected. w00t.
Which is good, bc Sat I went on a last minute shopping trip to Betsey Johnson. They've been sending me sale notices every week so I expected the selection to be picked over. I didn't see anything suitable for Thurs's gala on the rack, but they had a few sale items whose fit I was curious about. The sales guy who was helping me didn't look nearly gay enough for the task and when he handed me a hideous green thing with a poufy skirt, I even texted my sister to say that Betsey had let me down. Then I tried on this and at 40% off, that at least should come home with me. Then he handed me this and said, "You said you don't like poufy skirts or strapless but try this on anyhow." I loved its baroque-ness enough not to grumble and when I plaintively asked, "There's not a single strap that comes with it?" he said, "Well, there's just this little bra-strap halter thing," which, yeah, is about the thickness of a bra strap, but cuts my shoulder just enough to keep me from looking like a pudgy she-beast. YAAY! Also tried on a corporate goth suit and another halter, so basically the next time a sexy man invites me to dinner, I won't have to tear up my closet looking for things to wear. As he was ringing me up, the sales guy commented that the clothes fit me extraordinarily well, to which I agreed and wondered why. He said Betsey herself is petite, so maybe she just has a better sensibility for things that fit short people. I accept!
Met my froshling for *gulp* mani/pedis and received spare ribs. YAAAAY!!! I also stopped by Safavieh to check out a dining chair my sister picked for me but (a) it's got those brass nail-head things that always look so old/established to me and (b) they cost twice what the chairs I rejected for being too expensive cost. d'oh!
Dylan Prime has been on my list bc it serves fondue, but I somehow missed that it's actually a steak restaurant and the fondue is an appetizer. durr. Instead we had the pork belly tater tots, which aren't tater tots at all, but deep fried pork belly. Mmm... pork belly. Ironically, in retrospect, they remind me of "corn dogs for horn dogs". I feel like I had too much zin to appreciate the porterhouse, which is ridiculous bc I retained the comprehension to note the asparagus was only a little overcooked. The truffle corn and potato cakes were incredibly delicious with a flavor that neither of us could identify: it wasn't butter or garlic and it wasn't quite umami, but it was nomnomnom.
I followed JBeau's advice to go for a day of top-roped climbing with Igor/his guiding company as a way of getting lots of climbing instruction for a low(er) price. Except that JBeau wasn't guiding us on Sun and his colleagues aren't as good :( After months of gym climbing and ice climbing, it felt pretty awful to be out on Gunks rock - the holds seemed invisible at first and honestly, Black Fly was like climbing a ladder - but I climbed Black Fly (5.5), Nice Crack Climb (5.7), Shit or Go Blind (5.8), and No Picnic (5.5). Pete and Bob had compliments, but didn't have anything to add, really, on the easy stuff and then couldn't do much instruction on the too-hard stuff. Shit or Go Blind had an allegedly 5.10 variation, with the crux move on the overhang. Bob tried hard, even getting on the climb and doing it twice so he could show and tell better, but the move's just a bit too far past my skill set. The move I couldn't make involved hanging from one hand while clawing blindly above my head for the other and I just didn't have it in me.
JBeau and his client came over at the end of the day and he gave me a hint to get through the crux of Nice 5.9 Climb ("maybe your little fingers will fit in the little holds on the face"); he claims I can still count it as my first 5.9 outdoors, although I'm dubious.
Bobby the owner jovially asked me if I was having fun and apparently took it personally when I didn't enthusiastically shout yes. Honestly, I'm not sure the instruction was worth what it cost :( and I don't think the climbs were all that interesting. I'd rather dick around in the Gunks with my incompetent clubmates. (I say now.) Anyhow, to make a long story short, he thought I hadn't had enough climbing - after all, I'd climbed 5 of the 6 routes they'd set - so when he was belaying N- on Rhododendron, a 5.6 I've mocklead, he encouraged me to put my harness back on. And JBeau commented that climbing in my approach shoes would be good experience, so I did. Made it to the top only slipping off once. Go me.
I think I was also having a bad social day, bc usually the fact that I'm alone on Igor trips doesn't bother me, as there's always someone with whom to discuss mountaineering ambitions or other mountains we've climbed; I'm usually much more sympathetic to n00bs. A few of them were bitching about the lack of men - 2 of the 11 climbers were male - OMG I'm so tired of that topic, esp since I think one was complaining about gay men taking too many men out of circulation and they shouldn't be allowed to do that and holy cow I need better ear plugs. I hate feeling like an outsider. Maybe I just miss Igor. On the other hand, a day outside with true fresh air is better than a day indoors and N- is a darling and brought Russian cookies and chocolate and truffles and best of all, she had champagne-in-a-can for us to celebrate our respective 5.9s. YAAY!
We got back relatively early, but I was too wiped out to do anything much. Did a thorough washing of hair and face with masks and everything. Hope that's enough to get it to behave properly this week.
Which is good, bc Sat I went on a last minute shopping trip to Betsey Johnson. They've been sending me sale notices every week so I expected the selection to be picked over. I didn't see anything suitable for Thurs's gala on the rack, but they had a few sale items whose fit I was curious about. The sales guy who was helping me didn't look nearly gay enough for the task and when he handed me a hideous green thing with a poufy skirt, I even texted my sister to say that Betsey had let me down. Then I tried on this and at 40% off, that at least should come home with me. Then he handed me this and said, "You said you don't like poufy skirts or strapless but try this on anyhow." I loved its baroque-ness enough not to grumble and when I plaintively asked, "There's not a single strap that comes with it?" he said, "Well, there's just this little bra-strap halter thing," which, yeah, is about the thickness of a bra strap, but cuts my shoulder just enough to keep me from looking like a pudgy she-beast. YAAY! Also tried on a corporate goth suit and another halter, so basically the next time a sexy man invites me to dinner, I won't have to tear up my closet looking for things to wear. As he was ringing me up, the sales guy commented that the clothes fit me extraordinarily well, to which I agreed and wondered why. He said Betsey herself is petite, so maybe she just has a better sensibility for things that fit short people. I accept!
Met my froshling for *gulp* mani/pedis and received spare ribs. YAAAAY!!! I also stopped by Safavieh to check out a dining chair my sister picked for me but (a) it's got those brass nail-head things that always look so old/established to me and (b) they cost twice what the chairs I rejected for being too expensive cost. d'oh!
Dylan Prime has been on my list bc it serves fondue, but I somehow missed that it's actually a steak restaurant and the fondue is an appetizer. durr. Instead we had the pork belly tater tots, which aren't tater tots at all, but deep fried pork belly. Mmm... pork belly. Ironically, in retrospect, they remind me of "corn dogs for horn dogs". I feel like I had too much zin to appreciate the porterhouse, which is ridiculous bc I retained the comprehension to note the asparagus was only a little overcooked. The truffle corn and potato cakes were incredibly delicious with a flavor that neither of us could identify: it wasn't butter or garlic and it wasn't quite umami, but it was nomnomnom.
I followed JBeau's advice to go for a day of top-roped climbing with Igor/his guiding company as a way of getting lots of climbing instruction for a low(er) price. Except that JBeau wasn't guiding us on Sun and his colleagues aren't as good :( After months of gym climbing and ice climbing, it felt pretty awful to be out on Gunks rock - the holds seemed invisible at first and honestly, Black Fly was like climbing a ladder - but I climbed Black Fly (5.5), Nice Crack Climb (5.7), Shit or Go Blind (5.8), and No Picnic (5.5). Pete and Bob had compliments, but didn't have anything to add, really, on the easy stuff and then couldn't do much instruction on the too-hard stuff. Shit or Go Blind had an allegedly 5.10 variation, with the crux move on the overhang. Bob tried hard, even getting on the climb and doing it twice so he could show and tell better, but the move's just a bit too far past my skill set. The move I couldn't make involved hanging from one hand while clawing blindly above my head for the other and I just didn't have it in me.
JBeau and his client came over at the end of the day and he gave me a hint to get through the crux of Nice 5.9 Climb ("maybe your little fingers will fit in the little holds on the face"); he claims I can still count it as my first 5.9 outdoors, although I'm dubious.
Bobby the owner jovially asked me if I was having fun and apparently took it personally when I didn't enthusiastically shout yes. Honestly, I'm not sure the instruction was worth what it cost :( and I don't think the climbs were all that interesting. I'd rather dick around in the Gunks with my incompetent clubmates. (I say now.) Anyhow, to make a long story short, he thought I hadn't had enough climbing - after all, I'd climbed 5 of the 6 routes they'd set - so when he was belaying N- on Rhododendron, a 5.6 I've mocklead, he encouraged me to put my harness back on. And JBeau commented that climbing in my approach shoes would be good experience, so I did. Made it to the top only slipping off once. Go me.
I think I was also having a bad social day, bc usually the fact that I'm alone on Igor trips doesn't bother me, as there's always someone with whom to discuss mountaineering ambitions or other mountains we've climbed; I'm usually much more sympathetic to n00bs. A few of them were bitching about the lack of men - 2 of the 11 climbers were male - OMG I'm so tired of that topic, esp since I think one was complaining about gay men taking too many men out of circulation and they shouldn't be allowed to do that and holy cow I need better ear plugs. I hate feeling like an outsider. Maybe I just miss Igor. On the other hand, a day outside with true fresh air is better than a day indoors and N- is a darling and brought Russian cookies and chocolate and truffles and best of all, she had champagne-in-a-can for us to celebrate our respective 5.9s. YAAY!
We got back relatively early, but I was too wiped out to do anything much. Did a thorough washing of hair and face with masks and everything. Hope that's enough to get it to behave properly this week.