Somehow my body clock has gotten out of whack. I couldn't keep my eyes open last night, and went to bed around 9:30. Woke back up at 1:30am and haven't been able to get back to sleep since. (Though, as I write this at around 7am, I'm starting to feel sleepy once again.)

Ah well. Might as well fill the time by recounting my weekend and giving you some linky goodness:

Alas, my good friend that was planning to visit had to cancel because of a family emergency. And B. was sick in Connecticut with a fever. So I slept late on Saturday, then shot pool (exceedingly badly) with Jonmc & Chico and Pips, had a nice Italian dinner with them, and got caught in a torrential downpour in the Village. (Think "movie rain.") A bit more about the restaurant where we ate: it's been open since 1928, but doesn't look like it's changed a bit -- in decor, cuisine, or clientele -- since the early fifties. When was the last time you saw eggs a la Russe on a menu? Or "The Other Soup"? Or were able to get a good four-course meal in Manhattan for $12.95?

On Sunday, my mother came to town for a quick visit. (She was attending a conference in Westchester, and managed to extend her ticket by 24 hours or so.) I showed her around my office, and then we went to Lincoln Center to the ballet...which was a revelation. I thought I didn't like ballet at all, but I think I'd just never seen it done well. The all-Balanchine program we saw was fantastic, and I think I'm a convert. The speed! The fluidity! Wow.

We then had a very nice dinner at Fleur de Sel: she had a rack of lamb, I had the most remarkable poussin --a baby chicken roasted with unbelievably light, crisp skin, over spinach and chanterelles. And as always, it was a letdown to leave a really good restaurant and schlep home via the subway, changing trains twice due to weekend construction.

And work? Sheesh. (I know I complain about it here, but it really isn't that bad. I like my job. Honestly.) But one thing about the first day with new equipment and new procedures in a new building is that you have to kind of make things up as you go...and since you're going to be deciding how workflow goes in the future, it's incumbent upon you to make correct (or at least flexible) decisions. Plus nothing was set up correctly, and troubleshooting with a strict deadline isn't the most fun in the world.

And, as promised, some linky goodness:

--the return of the Cockeyed Absurdist;
--a neat NYT profile of Andy Goldsworthy, the British landscape sculptor (and photographer) who's one of my favorite artists (Thanks to Dana for the link);
--a ton of bhangra MP3s (via Said the Gramophone);
--Mark Hasty's ode to gas station cheeseburgers; and
--C'mon, who hasn't been there? (via ObscureStore.)

Comments

[jonmc]

The all-Balanchine program we saw was fantastic, and I think I'm a convert. The speed! The fluidity! Wow.

If you start publicly expressing an appreciation of chiffon, I'm sending in a deprogrammer

[Vidiot]

Bite me.

(Seriously, it was amazing. Seeing people hurtle across the stage, changing directions on a dime and lifting people as they go...and managing to make it look good at the same time. It's pretty difficult to do.)