The Big Reveal

I don't usually like to jinx things. I take particular care to not let out bits of optimistic chatter when things might still not come to pass as I'd hoped. But, in this case, I've slipped up already to a number of you. And, after yesterday, my exciting secret plans have gotten even more exciting, so I'm just going to risk it and let you all in on my enthusiasm.

Fountain House is the oldest, largest, and most well-known clubhouse (read: member run support organization) for adults with mental illness in the world. It is also the clubhouse on which all other clubhouses are based, and, as one administrator there said, "If Fountain House does it, everyone else will do it." The Fisher Clubhouse, with whom I collaborated to create the Fisher Players, is one such clubhouse and ineed does have ties to Fountain House.

To make a long story short, it was through these ties and a performance by the Fisher Players attended by Fountain House staff that I was recently asked to start a program for Fountain House as I had done at the Fisher Clubhouse: a troupe to create plys based on members' experiences and focused on combatting the stigma around, and mistratement of, those with mental illness. I had one meeting and found that there was genuine interest on the part of Fountain House, and yesterday I went back for another meeting. This time, the meeting was even more successful - somehow, more sincere and meaningful that the previous one. In describing my previous work with the Fisher Players, one of the administrators with whom I was meeting said "this, what you are describing, is what Fountain House should be about."

Their reactions were tremendously complimentary to me and to the idea of this work (one even got a little choked up talking about his experiences with the power of applied theatre) and they were very serious about making this program a reality in the best ways possible. So I've still got some more planning to do and folks to talk to over there, but at this point I can't help but be really thankful to God, and Matrix, and the Fisher Players, and everybody who helped to bring me to this opportunity. Can you tell I'm excited?

Dr. Science meets The Strange Dr. Weird

I just discovered the fantastic world of podcasts. You can download things like radio shows and lectures on a vast spectrum of topics FOR FREE and listen to them on your iPod. So while I've been enjoying this really well done lecture series on the origins of Hinduism, I decided to take a break for some lighter fare this morning.

The Strange Dr. Weird, voiced by Maurice Tarplin and broadcast on the radio from 1944-45, offers the listener chilling tales of suspense and the supernatural. Also included - at least in the stories I heard - is a bizarrely high ratio of characters present in the story to characters killed in the story. One episode has the murderer shoot every other character in the story in a span of five or so minutes. And each time a story ends, the Strange Dr. Weird returns to taunt you. "I'll bet you didn't expect that," he'll say, or, "If only he had known there was but a single pool of quicksand, but he didn't, did he? (spooky organ flare)"

So, if you ever find yourself in need of a good laugh, particularly one sponsored by Adam brand hats, then look no further than the preamble to each episode and "just look for the house on the other side of the cemetary - the house of the Strange Dr. Weird."

Good luck, Jen! Though the rest of you may really need it.

Saturday I was at work until past nine, but I was able to rush over to a bar on the west side for a farewell send-off for my friend Jen from grad school. She was one of the few with whom I developed a real bond of friendship in grad school, and although she is going to be very happy working with a really fabulous organization providing arts opportunties to kids in Los Angeles, all of New York city will miss her.

And at that same event I crossed paths with two other friends from grad school, one of whom regailed the rest of us with disturbing tales of her apartment in a haunted old hospital in Brooklyn. The creepiest of many strange occurences described was the disembodied giggling of a young girl which will sound when someone else laughs in the apartment.*shiver* I advised that she and her roomate make sure to sleep under a blanket of crosses.

I was a Craig's List Missed Connection

Yes yes yes, I've been sick and am behind on my updates. Well I'm also behind on my laundry, so we'll get to both of those later. For now, though, there's this:

For those unaware of the Missed Connection section of Craig's List, it's where people post messages about someone they either had a moment with in passing or just admired from afar while riding the same subway train, that sort of thing. I, and several of my close friends, read it quite regularly because it is brilliant for people watching - reading about moments shared and missed, unrequited love from someone you see everyday on the same train, and that certain totally random someone you just can't get out of your mind.

And now, after years as a reader, I am the subject of such a message.

I noticed this headline and message among the missed connections, in the woman looking for man category:
tall guy reading on the N from brooklyn - w4m - 28 I see you some mornings- usually you are reading a book and looking serious under your fraying baseball cap... What would it take to get you to smile?

So I think, "well, I take the N from brooklyn in the morning, I'm tall, I'm usually reading and not smiling, and I wear a frayed baseball cap." So I send a very simple message asking if this was about me, with a picture, and here's the response I got:

"yup, you are the tall stranger :)
I'm surprised (and a little
embarrased) that you actually saw my post! I didn't think these things
ever worked- what are the chances?? I just put it out there on a whim.
but I'm glad it made you smile :)

So um, I guess you know I think you're cute-- do you have a
girlfriend? Would you like to meet up sometime?

Colleen
PS- here is a pic of me from July"

Honestly, more than anything else I just find this flattering.

Free to good home: One horrible stomach flu

Although it no longer fits in with my life, I should like to say up front that there is nothing wrong with the stomach flu I have had since saturday and am looking here to give away - as far as they go, this flu will fulfill all your expectations: stomach cramps, headaches, chills, a fever, lots of sweating, and a few other best-left-out-of-print symptoms. These latter features of the stomach flu make it an ideal match for the aspiring supermodel looking for that anorexia-chic. Why, eating will become a futile gesture useful only for social purposes - you won't retain a thing! Eating will be like the hood ornament on the car of your body. Your fashion forward body car, ladypants. Also, there may be some delirium included, I think.

Now a yearly tradition

Mondayborday was labor day, and if you've been reading this blog and the Fanciest American before it, you should know that means I attended the West Indian Cultural Festival. Boasting an attendance figure from last year of 3.5 million - making it the largest parade in New York - this event has come to be my favorite single event here. The colorful costumes, the music, the food, and the overwhelming sense of fun combine for a really great day. Unfortunately, I've been very sick since saturday (which I will write about later) so I could only stay for about half an hour, but I got some photos and got to see some good stuff.