Things sighted.

Most of my furniture's sold and about half of it's out of the room, so with my desk gone I had to make a new computer spot, which is a pillow where my airmchair used to be with the overhead light off and the floor lamp on. It'll work for a few nights. This time Tuesday I'll be in New York, and this time Wednesday I'll be in Canada. I can make it a few more days with a definite end in sight.

I finally made it to the Frick for its high tea today, a little hurrah and send-off with something low-key and tasty that I've wanted to do for a while. I got to the museum early, so I poked around the neighborhood a bit, wandering in and out of an estate sale, a school's garden with everything labeled on small cards, out to Frick Park itself, where I took a little detour up a path because it was there and found I'd gotten into the cemetery. I didn't mind; I like cemeteries. They tend to be peaceful. And when I was there today, I watched some tiny yellow butterflies and chased after large grasshoppers and found my name. Not my full name, but my family's name, a person I didn't know existed who might have some connection to me I'd never been aware of before. "Orlove" isn't a common name at all, not where I come from, so to see someone else with it - someone I'd never known about - made me stop for a while to wonder who he might have been.

Right now I'm back from Winter's Bone, which isn't getting anywhere near the amount of press as, say, The Other Guys and I think the general moviegoing public is suffering for that. Not that these two movies are trying to do the same thing, just that Bone told its story so much better than Guys could. Cold, quiet, and beautiful, seriously worth the full ticket price.