Suzy Says

The lights stayed on the rest of the week, the sun is out, and the event hell is behind me for another few months*, so things are brighter, both literally and figuratively.

Megan and I headed to the South Coast for another of our cultural outings. The first stop, as it often is, was Anchor Bay Thai, where we are now so well-known that the lovely young server puts takeout menus on the bar for us on sight, and writes our names on the bills before we give her our credit cards. We were unable to resist the special fresh spring rolls of the day, made with coconut shrimp and fresh pineapple. So good!

We arrived at the theater in Point Arena in time to get balcony seats and enjoy the wonders of “La Sylphide”. It is one of the oldest ballets still being performed, and according to Katerina, the one that introduced dancing en pointe and started the celebrity of ballerinas, way back in 1836.

I am surprised it’s not better known today. It is beautiful to watch, with a wonderful, romantic story and a tragic ending. It is set in Scotland, where James (played by Semyon Chudin, who so memorably played the Mouse King a few years ago) naps by the fire in his mansion. He is awakened by a kiss from a sylph, who enchants him by fluttering and seeming to float as she dances around the room. As James reaches for her, she flies up the chimney and vanishes.

Unfortunately for James, it is not only his wedding day, but his groomsmen think he’s crazy when he describes his close encounter with this fantastic being. Eventually, James pursues the sylph into the enchanted forest where she and her sister sylphs dance an exquisite dance. He manages to capture the sylph and kiss her passionately, but this causes her wings to fall off and the beautiful creature dies in his arms.

I think it’s one of my favorites of all the ballets we have seen over the past few years. I’m looking forward to the next one, “La Bayadère”, in March.

*Though the actual event is next January, tickets go on sale and the madness starts in October. So the break from the horror is nowhere near as long as this girl would like.

A YEAR AGO: We were at the ballet then, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Hanging out with Megan’s dog Stella.

TEN YEARS AGO: Fighting the ghosts of the past and the tears of the present.

Here it comes!

I am glad to say that the power came back on Friday night, after three powerless days. It was nice to have light, not see my breath in the living room, and be able to flush the toilet. I was planning to go home and watch an old movie with a couple of adult beverages to celebrate the long-awaited return of civilization to my humble abode, but I ended up going to bed after one drink and not even messaging a distant friend as I had intended. Have I lost the will to drink?

I’m sorry to report that the power went out yet again on Saturday night, plunging me once more into darkness and despair. I called my friends at PG&E to report it and was saddened to hear that their recording still related to the outage which ended on Saturday. So I couldn’t report the new one. I hung up, hoping that one of my neighbors would eventually be able to report it. It appeared that someone did, since it came back on about six hours later.

For some reason, I have been finding all these outages hard to take. Maybe my nerves are overtaxed with the horror of the annual fundraiser. I am in the throes of it right now, along with my regularly scheduled job and all the irregularities that go along with that. I keep telling myself, it’s all over on Saturday and I can make it if I take it day by day.

We are back to sunny days and I hope the power outage chances are minimal, at least for now.

Update: Well, that didn’t last long. Power out AGAIN Monday morning at 8 am. Third one in a week. On a sunny, clear, windless day.

Another Update: Power is back on. We’ll see how long it lasts this time. Is it really even worth setting all the clocks?

Well, the New Year didn’t waste much time in getting down to business and racking up the power outages.

I took a day off, which as you all know inevitably leads to disaster. When will I learn? I had a package to mail to England, and with the day off, I could actually get to the post office, which is closed when I go to work, closed when I get home, and closed for lunch. Notice a theme here? So getting to the post office during their extensive work hours is quite a challenge.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived there to find the power was out. Somehow I thought post offices would have generators, but at least in Hooterville, they don’t. I was able to pick up a Customs form, so it wasn’t a total loss, but I think I’ve been trying to mail that package for about two weeks.

Arriving home, I called my friends at PG&E, and received the disheartening news that they had no idea when the power would be back on. I am now on Day Three of the power outage, and I’m here to tell you that power outage days are like dog years. It seems like forever since I had light or heat or could flush the toilet. This makes me very sad.

I am also sorry to say that the kid living next door was blasting his generator all night, making it impossible for me to sleep. When I left for work at 6 am, it was still going. I was so sleep-deprived that I felt drunk. My hands were shaking and my eyes felt like they had been sandpapered.

My kindly sister offered to let me sleep at her place last night. She and Jonathan are off the grid, so they laugh at power outages. I brought all my faux adult armor with me, and settled in bed with a book and Megan’s 18 year old cat, the Beautiful Harriet:

after Meg went to work. I fell asleep by 9:00 pm and didn’t wake up until 2:15 am, which was great. I went back to sleep until a little before 5, when I normally wake up. As you all know, a good night’s sleep makes a huge difference, and I feel ready to face the day, though not to face yet another dark, cold evening.

A YEAR AGO: Feeling better at last.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Interesting to see a patient’s eye view of the clinic now that I work there. Little did I imagine that would happen!

TEN YEARS AGO: Those were the days!

I have definitely been spending too much time working and not enough time with the kitties or with you, for that matter.

The kitties have rewarded my excess workage by stepping up the naughtiness factor. Really it’s the boys being boys. When I (finally) get home, they greet me with enthusiasm and set to work getting underfoot as the Staff distributes treats and food. Dodge has learned from the best, and his getting in the way skills are almost as good as Clyde’s.

Audrey, of course, disdains this type of behavior and those who are doing the (mis)behaving. She now gets room service treats on her throne, as befits an Empress. Unfortunately for her, a Canadian brought up with the respect due the monarchy, she is forced to share quarters with rabble-rousing California revolutionaries who seem to feel that the French had the right idea back in the 1700s.

During the time I had off over the holidays, I noticed that the boys have developed a disturbing tendency to gang up on Audrey, chasing her all over the house. Maybe I’m putting a negative connotation on their antics and they are just playing with her. To be fair, Dodge and Clyde play by chasing each other and roughhousing in a way that looks like fighting. But Audrey hates it and is pretty vocal about it. Also she has been scarce, hiding under the bed or on her throne atop the armoire, rarely sitting on my lap as she used to. I guess some people might think it’s karma for her terrorizing any dog who ventured into her realm as well as Clyde. Personally, I don’t know what to think, but I rarely do.

The boys were on their best behavior when Megan came by to spend an evening with me recently, showing their cute and cuddly side instead of their Bastille storming one. Dodge did his charming quirk of jumping while rubbing against Megan’s leg and displaying his power purr. I never get tired of that and find it incredibly cute. I hope he never stops doing it.

Megan and I had wine and watched girl movies, pausing frequently for chatting and laughter. We did our laundry at the same time, because that’s the kind of glamor girls we are.

A YEAR AGO: When is a bucket of sand not a bucket of sand?

FIVE YEARS AGO: A seasonal malady.

TEN YEARS AGO: A surprisingly warm day.

The Nutcracker was the last ballet of the old year. I thought it would be the same one we saw a couple of years ago, but it was a different production, with choreography from 1966 and the 92 year old choreographer himself in the audience at the beautiful and historic Bolshoi Theater.

It was very different from the earlier production. This one had a glittery deep blue curtain with the guests going to the party (and leaving it, against the same backdrop), which we liked. We also liked the 18th century inspired costumes. But we were less taken with the principal dancers, especially Marie, who seemed to cry a lot, and had no chemistry with the Prince. The godfather who gifted Marie with the nutcracker seemed to be some kind of evil magician and also seemed to conjure up the Mouse King and his army, which seemed a little odd. Some of the dances were longer and others were shorter. All in all, it was fun and interesting, but on the whole, Megan and I both preferred the early production.

We were also glad that there was only one intermission, so it was still light out as we headed home with a car full of Thai food. We went to Megan’s place, where we were joined by Jonathan and Rob. It was the first time I had hung out there since they first moved in. Everything is put away and it looks lovely. While they have to be on the frugal side with electricity until they buy new batteries to store the solar power, it was warm enough to just wear a t-shirt in the house, which was an enjoyable novelty for someone who usually wears at least one sweater in her house and sometimes more. Sometimes even a hat*. To be fair, Megan and Rob’s old house used to be colder than mine is, so they really appreciate the warmth and insulation of their new home.

We enjoyed our fabulous Thai food with some local wine and Alfred Hitchcock’s “Shadow of a Doubt”, filmed in nearby Santa Rosa. Hitchcock chose the location because Santa Rosa was the quintessential small town, hard to believe 75 years later when it’s nothing but concrete and malls. The house where most of the action took place is still there, as is the train station, but the lovely library is no more, and the Til Two bar is gone, too. We agreed that we’d love to have the sign and/or the doors from that place:

We all enjoyed the movie and we all managed to miss the cameo, which I later learned was here about 15 minutes in.

It was a happy evening.

*Yesterday morning, I woke up to discover that the dish soap was frozen. To be fair, there was only a couple of inches in a glass bottle, but still. That’s cold.

A YEAR AGO: Sickly New Year to me!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Home again from San Francisco.