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March 28, 2007
'snot fair
Five events from yesterday: my cold is lingering, it was 25c (77f) here in New York, I hate meatloaf, I left the hot yoga room during a class, and I walked out of an opera.
So my story begins. (By the way, if you don’t find the wonders of the human body a source of a good laugh, close your browser now.) I woke yesterday feeling considerably better, probably 90%. I went for a run, and had to stop at a public loo along the Hudson River to blow my nose. All I could find was single ply toilet tissue. Of course, my sinuses decided to pick that exact moment to unleash a torrent of glutinous, gelatinous goo about the consistency of yogurt. I will spare the slimy details. This was only the beginning.
I decided to go to yoga at 1:30. No eating 2 hours before meant an early lunch. I had ordered groceries from Fresh Direct on Monday, and instead of olive oil, they sent meatloaf. I grudgingly heated it for lunch, with a fresh salad and some papaya. It all felt like a nasty lump in my tummy. OMG, this would make for a tricky yoga class.
I got to yoga in time to chill before the class, and compared notes with Erik, the instructor, who is suffering with a similar cold. I chose the front row. Right in front of the mirror. About an hour into the class, I was in “wind-removing pose”. Yes, this pose temporarily cuts off the blood circulating to the colon. Helps with digestion. Apparently, it helps to pass gas. And meatloaf. I suddenly felt like I was going to explode.
I decided to persevere. My rule: never, ever, leave the hot room. On to the first spine-strengthening pose. The set up is simple. Face down on the mat, hands palm-down under your deltoids (boobies), elbows up in the air like grasshopper wings. Peel yourself off the floor using only lower back strength. On my way up, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. A huge smear of slime was creeping out of my nose and down toward my chin. What now? I looked at Erik, who saw immediately my plight. I waited until the pose was over, and bolted for the door. Ten minutes blowing and pulling, and it was over. There was no way there was anything left in my sinuses. I probably managed to unleash a bit of brain matter in the process. I rejoined the class.
Onward to see Madama Butterfly at the New York City Opera. I swiped my MetroCard and it bleeped “Please swipe again”. For those who have never ridden the NYC subway system, you need to understand that the MetroCard is a stored-value card, which is the flimsiest piece of plastic. You don’t want this to get wet or it would dissolve. Hence, the periodic “Please swipe again”.
I turned, and the woman behind me had already swiped hers. We began a MetroCard dance. I went through on her fare, then turned to swipe my card. She entered on my fare. The train was right there, and we both hopped on. It was a New York moment that happened instantly. It could have unfolded any number of ways, but she was so polite and nice about it.
I met Chis at Rockefeller Center, and we took advantage of the beautiful summer-like weather to wander up to Lincoln Center through Central Park. We arrived in time to grab a bite to eat, then went across the street to see the performance. The biggest problem with the New York State Theatre is that it is designed for ballet. This means the acoustics make the orchestra strong, and the stage soft. You just don’t want to hear the tip-tapping of ballet shoes. This is not good for opera. I could barely hear the tenors in the first act. It was so bad. The second act was significantly better. Butterfly’s duet with Suzuki was spectacular, but Butterfly’s famous aria was disappointing. During the second intermission, we left.
It was a surreal day. I was lying in bed last night thinking that I had watched my day unfold as it had, as though I was watching a movie. A bad b-movie. It was like someone else had done all these things.
I slept restlessly.
Posted by dave at March 28, 2007 12:34 PM