As I pad around in my pajamas this morning, getting ready to do some writing on my day off, I was thinking about what kind of person I would be if I were insanely rich. And I think I’d be an eccentric recluse who only wears pajamas and spends all day writing/reading books and getting lost in the garden maze. I’d rarely be seen in public, except once a year when I’d premiere an elaborate opera production sung by teenagers in the custom-made opera house I had built on the edge of my property. Next door, there’s an art gallery filled with the work of my globe-trotting photographer husband. Admission is free, but you have to pet the dogs before you’re allowed in.
Casual question inspired by a friend’s more formal survey: What’s your morning routine, and how much time do you like to take before you have to head out into the world? Why?
My answer: A defining character trait of mine is that I really, *really* don’t like to be rushed. Nowhere is this more evident than in my morning routine. Ideally, I will get out of bed at least 4 hours before I have to leave to go anywhere, so that I have 3 hours to work (I absolutely do my best work in the morning), feed/care for the pets, eat a little food, browse my social media platforms, write, contemplate life, daydream, pad around the house doing small chores, etc., and then 1 hour to leisurely get ready to go outside and face the world. That hour generally includes showering, brushing my teeth, skin care, drying my hair, and getting dressed with ample time built in for getting distracted by stuff on my phone and petting the cats.
I *can* get ready to go out much faster, but I really don’t like to. I build all this time into my morning so that when I do go out into the world, I feel calm, happy, and ready for human contact. I can do this on 3 hours with little to no ill effect. 2.5 hours is mostly okay. Less than that really starts to strain my calm. If I wake up late or find myself having to get ready in a hurry for some reason, it usually affects my state of mind for the entire day, so I really try to avoid those situations.
How about you?
(Warning, this post gets pretty ranty by the end.)
“I’ve done a lot as an athlete. So I don’t want to take anything away from that. But at the same time I don’t think that’s why I’m here today in this room. There are other athletes who are more decorated or more accomplished, but they’re not as funny and they’re not as cute.”
Okay, not just that. Not by a long shot. This interview is absolutely worth reading, and it isn’t just full of stuff like that. And as irritating as it can be (to him, I’m sure) that all interviews eventually become largely about his sexuality, I’m mostly glad about that because he’s saying things that have needed to be said, loudly and in public, for a long, long time. [Read more…]
#tbt Back in the winter/spring of 1995, I was on tour with Maurice Sendak’s theater company playing Kathy in Really Rosie. We were playing Tempe, Arizona, and we had a Monday off, so a bunch of the cast, musicians, and crew decided to take a trip to the Grand Canyon.
Most of the company (those who were going) left for the Canyon right after our Sunday afternoon show, but our small party of four included costume mistress Lora Dole, who had to do show laundry before she could head out. Temperatures in Tempe were in the mid 80s when we left, but as the four of us (Lora, Jonathan Powers, James David Jacobs, & me) drove up towards our destination, it gradually got colder, and by the time we reached Flagstaff (where we stopped for dinner) it was clear that our current attire was *not* going to cut it. We bought cheap hats and gloves at a gas station, and continued on our way.
We arrived at Grand Canyon National Park in the middle of the night, canyon covered in snow, air frigid, lit *entirely* with stars, and got our first glimpse of the glory that was ahead of us. After some surprisingly decent sleep in a nearby motel room, we raced back to the park to spend the day. It was incredible. It was freezing, and we were all inadequately dressed, but we honestly did not care.
In retrospect, it’s amazing that none of us fell off a cliff in the snow and ice (most visitors had boots and/or ice cleats…we were mostly in sneakers). We hiked down as far as we could, until we reached a sign that warned not to go any further without two days’ worth of water (we had maybe five small water bottles stowed in James’ backpack), then hiked back up. Jonathan took this photo near the end of the day.