hannah

The used book and record store took about twenty pounds of CDs, two-thirds of what I'd brought over, and I was offered $26 cash or $52 credit. I went with the cash, which is both more than a dollar per pound for CDs and a good hourly rate for hauling 32 pounds of CDs, VHS tapes, and cassettes about eight blocks.

From here, the weekend plans are dependent on a large number of variables, mostly traffic going into and out of New Jersey. I can't say I'm looking forward to the trip. Being there, sure - seeing family, saying hello to people I rarely get to talk to. But as per usual, it's the journey. And it'll be a long car ride with my parents. I'll have to load up my MP3 player with stuff that's suitably loud.

I've taken the day easy, doing very little. The cold's still lingering after two pots of tea, so a third seems in order. These are the days I most miss the gym's steam room. Standing over boiling water helps somewhat, but it's not the same as feeling the heat seep in. And in that absence, strong herbal tea.

Taking things easy does include attending a family zoom meeting of the extended family regarding some general concerns for the coming days, and boy, have fandom conventions spoiled me for this kind of thing. Nobody's raising their hands to speak.

Called off donating blood today out of due caution and not sleeping well last night. I may call off going to the movies tomorrow night, depending on how well I sleep tonight.

Today's movie outing was to The Bridge on the River Kwai, so it's not as though I haven't gotten enough "movie" in my week already.

If I knew tonight's weather would be perfect, I'd be on my way to the movies already. At the moment, I'm thinking of staying in on account of flood warnings and wanting to be up fairly early tomorrow. An event was cancelled this afternoon out of due caution, and the weather would've allowed for it.

I don't even have the reason of some take-home tasks for one of my clients, since I did those this afternoon. Copying off old photo CDs and DVD-Rs of home movies. The ongoing, eternal march of technology. Like hourly weather reports making it hard to assess exactly when, if ever, the rain's going to hit tonight.

I didn't meet either Mayor Mamdani or the Prime Minister of the Netherlands today. But I was on the same floor and in the same building as them for a few minutes, and nearly walked into the courtyard that'd been shut down for security reasons, and I'm good with that.

The courtyard happened by going out the wrong exit stairwell, and I had a moment of thinking that as a white woman in a nice dress, I could probably linger at the edge for a few minutes before being found out, then decided I didn't want to deal with security personnel who could legally force me out of the building instead of simply chewing me out and having me go inside. So I just went back inside.

The reason I was at the LGBT Community Center was archival research. When asked my reason for the research, I said it was to help a friend settle an argument. When asked the subject of the research, I said it was to find some of the earliest published photographs of Tom Cruise in any American magazine. I'd made the appointment a couple weeks ago - it getting shifted around a couple hours because of the Mayor and Prime Minister was easy to cope with thanks to the newest Murderbot novella - and when I got the box of magazines, I could see not only was there a lot to go through, it wasn't a full and complete run of the publication. There was a chance for nothing.

I checked a magazine, I checked another. I thought about dates and flipped through, skipping some years, and then pulled one out.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

They had it.

Given that the specific issue predated the release of his first movie by several months, I'm pretty sure they're the earliest published photographs of Tom Cruise. It was more than a little thrilling to hold it in my hands. Primary source material of primal source material.

There were several other issues of interest, and more than a few names I recognized - Tim Curry got written up for his turn as Mozart in Amadeus, for example, and there were more than a few old school slash fandom canons given warm write-ups when the shows either debuted or got a new season. The shift in gay culture from 1981 to 1991 was evident even in the size and paperstock of the magazine, for how much money the magazine could spend on itself based on who was buying and what people were selling. I don't know if the Center plans on digitizing the collection, especially given that they've only got one full-time archivist. I hope they do; some of the earliest publications in that box were very nearly ephemera for how small and fragile they were.

I didn't linger on the feelings or the research materials; I was there for a purpose. I got the job done and left soon after. While I chatted with staff, volunteers, and other researchers for a few minutes here and there, I'd arrived with a specific goal and wanted to focus on that. I came to find something, and for once, I found everything I was looking for.

I felt like putting on a sweatshirt before heading out for errands today. I didn't need one, but I felt like it. Wind coming through my opened window's a little cool, and at night it feels close to lightly chilled. I've seen hard squash in the market, but not pumpkins yet. Soon, I know. But not yet. This brief period of low summer's one of my favorites. Knowing you've left something, not yet arrived somewhere else. The awareness of the liminal space. It doesn't happen in a pleasant way all that often.

Errands were going to the library to pick up some holds, including the latest Murderbot novella, and dropping by a grocery store to get good toothpaste not kept behind a drugstore's shields. It's still an adjustment not having a grocery store two blocks away - there's more planning required, more time involved. After such convenience, eight blocks feels like a lot. I'll adjust, eventually. It's not like I need to buy toothpaste very often.

I usually only get up before six for elections and airplanes. Today, I worked backwards: if I wanted to be ready for services by six, I'd have to leave the party by no later than three, and if I left for the party at eleven, I'd have to be ready to go by 10:45, so if I wanted to be done with laundry by then, I'd need to start no later than eight.

So if I wanted a half-assed but acceptable gym visit to keep from getting restless, I'd need to be up around six.

I managed a half hour on the treadmill. The laundry's folded and can be put away later. I've got time to pick out a nice dress. The invitation for my niece A.'s birthday party said it starts at noon. I'm going to try to get there at noon.

I don't know why her parents scheduled her party for the day before Yom Kippur and its 25-hour fast begins. I just know I won't feel bad about leaving after just a couple of hours.

The day's highlight was unquestionably seeing a raven off Broadway and 92nd street. I knew the call had to be a corvid, but it didn't sound like a jay or a crow, so I stopped to look up and around, and then just stopped to look at a bird too big and too dark and too handsome to be anything but a raven. Even up at the corner of the roof of the apartment building, I could see how different the beak and body were from a crow, in shape as well as size. There were a couple of men nearby, leaning against a car, and I briefly thought to point it out, then thought against it. They might've seen it already. When it took off and I could see the spade-tail silhouette, perfect night against the blue, it lifted my spirits for most of the rest of the day.

Not all the rest, since I had to talk about the ongoing work search with my dad, but most.

Monday night saw me on about four hours' sleep and a couple hours' naps during the day. I'd felt sore, but it wasn't until I got into bed I started shivering and feeling feverish. I woke up from REM sleep a couple of times, which was proof I'd done more than doze, but it didn't last long enough to feel rested.

It made it pretty easy to get through the meeting with the career counselor, though. I told her I was loopy from the flu and COVID jab, so we discussed our mutual goals.

Today, I had a moment of looking at a shared document, wondering aloud if I could do something, then dismissed it. She asked what it was - which was to figure out how to make it so copy/paste defaulted to the document's font - and I said it wasn't worth talking about, we had other stuff. She asked again, and I said it wasn't worth talking about.

We managed to get an application off, at least. So the day has that going for it.

Getting the newest Covid and flu shots on the same day certainly got them out of the way, but boy is my arm not up for doing much more than hanging limply. Or the rest of me.

That includes rummaging through my freezer for where the ice packs might be in the Tetris configuration it's got going on right now. That's the level I'm at.