ursamajor: choir of bunnies (bunnies can't sing)
Watching my soprano section shrink in real time the week of a concert due to the germ soup we're all swimming around in out there: augh. (People. This is why most of your section leaders and certain choir elders have decided to continue singing masked, even if we can't make it policy again for the whole choir for various bureaucratic reasons. Seriously, 3M, where are those black N95s we've been politely requesting for four years now?)

Still, glad to be singing with a group whose music is meeting the moment; check program notes, well worth a read for background. Keeping in mind the timelines for performing classical music are scheduled well over a year in advance. A program replete with music from immigrants, combining disparate musical traditions in the best ways.

*

We almost had snow in the Bay Area again last week - well, okay, the actual 2500' peaks like Mount Diablo and Mount Hamilton got snow and it looked pretty, and of course the much higher Sierras to our east got feet of snow and "no you can't fucking travel today" warnings and avalanche deaths - and now we're missing the first real snow in Boston in years, and it's pretty, but I'm okay with that.

*

I dropped my phone awhile back, and while it was still technically functional, the back had enough spiderwebbing and flaking glass revealing the motherboard structure below that I got it replaced. It has literally taken most of the day since it arrived to get things swapped over. Mostly because this also involved a forced upgrade to Liquid Glass, which I'd been ducking, sigh.

*

A few months ago, [personal profile] hyounpark and I were getting on the freeway when a billboard flashed "LOCAL BIRRIA BALLS" at us. For, like, half a second, just long enough for H to read the phrase aloud, and go, "Birria *balls*?"
Me: "That's like, bringing up ancient catchphrases in my brain. Remember 'I wanna dip my balls in it'?"
H: "... I don't want to know, do I."
Me: "MTV in the '90s. For what it's worth, they were golf balls."
H: "I suspect birria balls are going to be quite different, but I'm driving so I can't find out right now."
Me: "I'm on it!"
Me, five minutes later: "Well, I can't find a local option for whatever these are, and Google keeps asking me if I'm looking for 'birria bombs.' But apparently a Mexican food truck in Kentucky says they're meatballs made of birria? With Hot Cheetos dust on the outside for crunch? ... and there's a restaurant in West Virginia that agrees with them."
H: "... I mean, that sounds like uber-American stoner kid food mashup culture, but why aren't there more local search results if there's literally a freeway billboard promoting it?"
Me: "Or we can buy them frozen. From an Italian specialty food shop. In Denmark."
H: "Google, you have utterly lost the plot."

We finally saw that particular billboard again (it's one of those electronic billboards with a rotating stash of ads), and this time, it had a URL attached, so we discovered that the local birria balls are literally just flavor packs, you have to provide your own birria in ball form.
ursamajor: people on the beach watching the ocean (Default)
Our choir director, giving us pronunciation notes in rehearsal this week: "We don't want to say 'NIEW-born child,' it's too nasal for our character. NOO-born child. Like, 'ooh, a baby!'"
Me, filters obliterated: "Well, of course, you don't say 'ew, a baby!'"
A: *overhears me, cracks up, can't stop laughing for like the next three minutes*

*

H, upon arrival in Albuquerque: "... why is there snow in New Mexico?!"
Me: "It's a mile above sea level! It's like Denver!"
H: "I thought it was going to be like the Bay Area, or Phoenix."
Me: "I did tell you to bring a jacket."
H: "Isn't like how you always tell me to bring a jacket and I'm usually fine without?"
Me: "Do you wanna build a snowman?"
H: "NO."

*

Weather reports out of Boston are crowing over the second major snowstorm incoming this week, bombogenesis over the Atlantic, and many of my friends there are freaking out about how this is happening on such a similar schedule to Snowpocalypse 2015. Though the current bet is that it'll probably remain out at sea and miss the New England coast for anything but a few more sprinkles.

While I am actually a bit envious of all of the pictures of the deep, freshly-fallen snow people have been posting, I'm also really, really glad that I don't have to shovel snow anymore. That I don't have to penguin-walk everywhere trying not to slip on black ice. That when I bike home at night, my fingers may complain (I was wearing gloves!), but 25 years in New England taught me to layer a wool sweater and a puffer vest. That I'm plucking lemons off the tree from our front porch - in January - and incorporating them into lemon chicken for dinner and wild rice pancakes for breakfast. (Said wild rice pancakes: I took Molly Yeh's recipe and accidentally doubled the wild rice, added cardamom and lemon zest, and grabbed a jar of cloudberry compote for ease of portability/topping; brought them to a breakfast picnic with bike friends this morning instead of our usual coffee because of the general strike.)

In related news, boston dot com posted a list of Boston's top 11 biggest snowstorms by accumulation since they started keeping track, and I was there for most of them, ahahaha.

1. February 17-18, 2003 - 27.6". This was right after Andrew and I had broken up, and I was absolutely blaming the giant snowstorm on him, hahaha. 😁 I lived in an apartment in the Fenway at this point, so thankfully I didn't have to shovel, and aside from having to go to work, mostly got to sit in my apartment and mope dreamily out the window, like the heroine in a romance novel at the nadir.

4. March 31-April 1, 1997 - 25.4". I'd gone to Boston for the weekend with college friends and escaped back to the Pioneer Valley just as the snow started falling. College dorm living sitch, so I didn't have to shovel, but whatever they used to keep the paths vaguely clear smelled like rotting bananas and soy sauce, and this was the kind of thing I got to learn about in my first New England winter, hahaha.

5. Blizzard of 2005 - January 22-24 - 25.4". I'd moved to an apartment in Porter, didn't have to shovel, but we had prime views out our window of people stumbling to the White Hen. I would, however, move into a place with a private patio later that year, which would require me to begin shoveling myself out in order to take the trash out. At least I also began dating a guy who had to shovel himself out, and we could commiserate together!

6. February 8-9, 2013 - 24.9" . Our final winter in Roxbury, where most of our shoveling was stairs, but a loooot of them.
https://www.instagram.com/p/VkNcd8iRrS/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
https://www.instagram.com/p/VkMsdvCRqB/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
https://www.instagram.com/p/VhsUnoCRlF/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

7. January 26-28, 2015 - 24.6".

9. February 7-9, 2015 - 23.1". These last two were part of Snowpocalypse 2015, and if you used one particular entrance to the Minuteman Trail to get to Alewife that winter, THANK ME AND [personal profile] hyounpark FOR SHOVELING, because the snowplow drivers kept dumping all the neighborhood snow in the culdesac at the foot of our street and blocking path access! (As is, we couldn't get our car out of the driveway until like May.) And no, we did not have a snowblower, no place to store one. I had buff-ass biceps that winter. :P

And now the word "shoveling" sounds like technobabble since I've used it so much this post.
ursamajor: people on the beach watching the ocean (Default)
The sunset was amazing tonight, but even more awe-inspiring was the moment the snow stopped after falling all day, and the sun emerged from behind the clouds. The trees were glowing pink and peach, the light refracting through the branches laden with crystals of snow.

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ursamajor: people on the beach watching the ocean (Default)
she of the remarkable biochemical capabilities!

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