As Long as the Room Keeps Singing
Wednesday afternoon I had a doctor's appointment in Manhattan, so I walked around a bit and took some photos. Bergdorf Goodman was putting some new windows together while I was there, but I got some shots of what they'd finished.
Here's a close-up of part of the dress. That's pleating there up top. I'm not sure how good it would look on a woman with more of a bosom.
I went back into the city after dark since I hadn't passed Bloomingdale's during my day walk. Bloomingdale's had only two windows up. This was one of them.
It was rough, though, because my hands were shakier than I expected.
I tried to do a night swing-by of Bergdorf but couldn't find parking the first time and by then I was getting even shakier, enough that I decided I should go home immediately instead, something reinforced as I realized I wasn't driving quite straight on the Queensboro Bridge on my way home. It was a weak shaky and a bit faint, slightly different from the times when it feels like my head is a helium balloon tied to my body by a string. When I'm walking at helium balloon times, I can feel my knees and my feet and the ground beneath them (a therapy tip for people with vestibular issues is to really feel out the ground as a, well, grounding thing) but the in-between bits aren't quite right or there. Summer heat can really mess me up.
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I borrowed two-CD Best of the Doors from the library and enjoyed 98% of it, though it's a funnier experience after becoming familiar with Weird Al Yankovic's Doors pastiche song "Craigslist". (He even got Ray Manzarek of the Doors to do the organ work, though Manzarek was also personally involved in Echo and the Bunnymen's cover of "People Are Strange" and Prong's cover of "Strange Days.") I actually giggled when a section of "Riders on the Storm" gave me an audio flashback of "An open letter to the snotty barista / At the Coffee Bean on San Vicente Boulevard / I know there were twenty people behind me in line / But I was on a cell phone call with my mother...."
Part of "Alabama Song" being used in The World's End might also contribute to my hilarity.
I also borrowed Fall Out Boy's Infinity on High and mostly enjoyed it, but I can't listen to a lot of FOB in one sitting because I end up feeling pummeled. There's not a lot of shading in Patrick Stump's vocal stylings for their work, to me he's usually going hard at about 60 miles on hour, sometimes ramping up to 75. Stop throwing your voice at my face, I get it already! So I just listen to Fall Out Boy as singles, not an album. But I do love love love "It Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race."
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Beautiful and intricate art: "Artist Twists Colorful Scrolls of Paper into Beautifully Quilled Designs."
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While I didn't get to see as many fireflies as I used to just in my own neighborhood at night in my childhood in Queens, tonight I got to see and enjoy many while walking around Flushing Meadows-Corona Park.
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