I used a hashtag

Never Done: I used a hashtag

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to teach someone what a hashtag is, and in the process, gave them more thought than I ever had before. I even looked up who invented the hashtag, and when. Like many symbols, it's already evolved. What started out as a way to organize conversations has become a form of emphasis, sort of the way we used to use the *asterisk.* But not really the way we used to use the asterisk, because you can't just put a hashtag in the middle of a sentence to emphasize something instead of italicizing it. You can tweet using a hashtag and you can update your Facebook status with a hashtag, and you can do it when it's the only phrase you're using, or you can use it as the second of two -- the second hashtagged phrase being commentary or detail of the first. Oh, new grammar! New forms of communication! I sort of love you! (And I sort of fear you.) So I decided to try you.

I was having another tough day, but was focused and engaged at work, and went out for a lobster role at Luke's Lobster, and when I paid the woman working there asked if I wanted a frequent eaters card. Of course I did! I work 4 blocks from Luke's, and I intend to eat there frequently. (They even let me bring my own wheat-free bread, and they grill it up for me, just like Red's Eats does in Wiscasset Maine when I order their ridiculously delicious grilled haddock sandwich.) When she handed me my Lobsta Mobsta Buy 10 Get 1 Free card, I actually felt better. I felt part of something that felt like home, and I just felt delighted at the simple pleasure of having easy access to something I love so much.

So when I finished eating, I took out my cell phone and updated my Facebook status:
Hard day just got easier. #Luke'sLobsterLobstaMobstaBuy10Get1FreeCard

If I had it to do over again, I think I'd shorten the part after the hashtag to merely #LukesLobster, but hey, it was my first time. I'm allowed to be a little awkward.

I started my new job as Director of Performing Arts at the Manhattan JCC

Never Done: I started my new job as Director of Performing Arts at the Manhattan JCC

It's been a long time since I regularly commuted. Since I got up early and was first in the shower, dressed in something other than a shleppy t-shirt, ate breakfast, packed a lunch (along with a work bag and a workout bag) and left for the train before 8 AM, knowing that I'll be doing it again tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

The prospect of the F to 2/3 train transfer at 14th street sort of depressed me, so I opted for a 20-minute walk to the 2/3 at Grand Army Plaza, and then a one-train, 40-minute ride. (Apologies to people who don't live in New York, who aren't obsessed with train travel; the point is, I didn't want to be late on my first day, and it can feel vulnerable to put your responsibility to your new job in the hands of the MTA. I got to work on time. Just.)

Being new is like being a worldly baby with a lot of context and life experience and dozens of parents (or guardians.) How do you get hot water out of the hot water machine? Your boss can show you. How do you set up your email and phone? The tech team can show you. Can you have a gym locker? No. What kind of MLK programming do we do? The archivist will send you old programs. Does my program have a Facebook page? The marketing department knows about that. And then you suddenly grow up real fast when you find out there are some nights to program in September and have an invitation to a theatre festival in Israel (in 6 weeks) if you think it would be a good use of your time. Meanwhile, how do you make hot water come out of that machine, again? And do you know when I'll get my own desk?

And so the day went. One unexpected highlight came when I went out to find some lunch, and I found (after I ate a lovely meal at a vegan cafe) four blocks from my office, an outpost of Luke's Lobster -- my number one top favorite lobster roll place in NYC. I've written about them before -- Luke is a Mainer who supports the Maine lobster industry by donating a portion of his profits to the Maine Lobsterman's Association. Also, he makes a fabulous lobster roll. I was already happy about my new job, but I find it particularly delightful that on the same day I got to talk about shomer shabes cultural programming, I also found my beloved treyf just up the street.

I walked on the new section of the High Line

Never Done: I walked on the brand new section of the High Line

Today's Never Done blog post was going to be about my first ever Lobster Roll Rumble, but then it turned out the tickets cost well over $100, and so my friend Barbara and I decided to have our own lobster roll rumble, and get a Lobster Place lobster roll from Chelsea Market (which I've never done, being primarily a fan of Luke's) and take it up to the High Line for a picnic.

We both invited our partners (I got to meet Art for the first time) and met at the market just as the winds were blustering up and blowing in a storm. The rain and thunder and lightning came as soon as we got our meals, so the four of us hunkered down inside to eat and talk, and hoped that the storm would abate. Which it did. And just as we took a detour away from the High Line for the lobster roll, so will my story. Its hard to imagine I'll ever meet a lobster roll I don't like, and this one was no exception, but it's currently ranked third (of three) in my New York Lobster Roll rating chart, behind Luke's (currently placed #1) and Red Hook Lobster Pound, which actually has a truck at the new beer and food truck garden called the Lot on 30th, under the new northern end of the High Line. The Lobster Place roll had a good amount of meat, a little too much mayo for my taste, and nothing else special going on. No special spices, no celery or onion, no pickle. But like I said, it's not like I'd kick it out of bed. (Well maybe I would, because that sounds messy.)

So yes, the rain and thunder and lightning did abate enough for us to go up to the High Line -- as long as we didn't mind getting mildly wet and mildly electrocuted. And I'm telling you, just one step up there at dusk, in the drizzle, lush with plantings, lit at leaf level, and suddenly I felt transported to a cleaner, calmer (inner and outer) world. There's something about the High Line's interaction of plants with human-made elements that makes me think of Portland, OR. It's a clean and modern aesthetic -- new design, not old design. And yet it interacts with both old and new architecture -- as you walk along it, you see old brick buildings with faded painted signs, and you see new glass buildings with rippled metal siding. Last night there was supposed to be a Trisha Brown dance performance, but I guess a little thunder and lightning scared them off.

I was wearing a new pair of sandals that I didn't want to get wet and stretched out, so I kicked them off and took in the park barefoot. I got to walk on an incredibly soft new lawn, and over a cool, long stone pathway. It hurt a little to walk on the metal grating elevated path, but I tried to focus on the light and the rain and the foliage and the light -- all of which I found completely transporting. The High Line is like ... what's it like? It's like a trip out of the city, a calm road to a kinder, prettier place -- a place where I can go barefoot at night! A place where people get gently brushed by dripping leaves instead of jostled and groped by rushing commuters. The High Line is my urban Shangri-La. I should go more often. It turns me into a much more pleasant New Yorker. Thank you, Barbara, for suggesting it.

(And I just found out the Luke's won the fan favorite, and Mary's Fish Camp won the lobster jury award. Who wants to go to Mary's?)

Ready to be 48. Bring it.

Never Done: Turned 48

This whole Never Done project is really thanks to the fact that I just turned 48. 48 seems so close to 50, you know? And I wanted to feel prepared for 50 -- not just have it show up on my doorstep and freak me out.

In general, I think the project is going well. On the downside, I am more tired than usual, because in addition to finding new things to do every day, I also need a good hour or more a day to write this blog. But on the upside, I am doing things I've never done before, and discovering what I like and what I don't. (I love the soup swap, and today's my day to cook soup, and tomorrow I'll be writing about it; I don't particularly love the draping class. I like it, but unless something really comes into focus for me, I don't think I'm going to be buying a dress form and pursuing this as a life passion.) More importantly, I think that the basic idea -- to choose one thing to do every day, and to override the "Should I? Shouldn't I" questions that would otherwise waste my time and paralyze me, and to seek meaning in the practice, has been fruitful. And the deeper idea for me, to expand my life as I head toward and into the second demi-century, has been as well. Hey, I have a Groupon for hot air ballooning later in the year!

So it was my birthday, and I decided to spend it doing things I wanted to do. This is interesting when you are thinking about Diligence: Always find something to do. Because when the world is your oyster (or your lobster roll) what do you actually want? When you take work and your other usual defaults off the table, how do you really enjoy spending your time? I decided that I wanted to do things that I enjoy, and also that I wanted to do things for people I love. So after cheesecake for breakfast with Josh, and then a second round with Dana, I spent the morning sewing presents for people. I made some microwavable flaxseed lavender bags for Karen and Josh, and I started a surprise sewing project for another friend, but it's a surprise so I'm not saying what or who.

I wanted to make myself a skirt, but I got flummoxed by downloadable patterns, so instead I spread out lots of fabric on the floor and pictured myself wearing a skirt made from different combinations.

I planned to finally take a Zumba class, but when I got to the gym it was the same (bad) teacher I had the other time -- the one who the other people in the class said was teaching faux Zumba, so I lifted weights instead, which felt metaphorically excellent (power... the metaphor is power) for me on my 48th.

I tried to Facetime chat (never done) with Karen, but I was out in the gym and then out on the street, and it turns out you need to be connected to WiFi, so we just talked instead.

I wanted to get a haircut, and I actually found a someone I think will be great, but she didn't have time, so I made an appointment for next week.

I got very tired (had a bad night of sleep the night before) and tried to take a nap but couldn't quite, so instead I indulged in an episode from Season 2 of Veronica Mars (thank you Alex for turning me on to this guilty pleasure!)

I took a 40 minute walk through the cold park and down to BAM to see True Grit, and Josh joined me there. I really loved this movie, and (SPOILER ALERT) am still grappling with the end. The frame. The way that we see what has become of this spunky intelligent girl -- that it's so unsettling, that she's lost her spunk. Was it just hard prairie living? Was it that once you taste that level of adventure and revenge nothing else compares? Thematically, I respect the Coen Brothers for hitting us with the epilogue, because it reminds us that the fun, and often hilarious romp we had just seen was actually about killing and revenge, and that many people's lives were deeply unsettled. Discuss please.

And finally, Josh and I met Patricia and Serena and Graciana for lobster rolls (my treat) at Luke's Lobster which is a terrible place to have a birthday gathering because it is to tiny, and a wonderful place to have a birthday gathering because the lobster rolls are SO GOOD. And because Luke is a Mainer, and his dad used to be a lobsterman, and Luke's donates some of its profits to the Maine Lobstermen's Association. And because the lobster rolls are SO GOOD.

And really finally, I got to bed before midnight, and slept for a delicious 8 hours, and woke up ready to be 48. Bring it.