(no subject)

quick update: The Tempest was awesome, though extremely rough around the edges and some of the actors were, well, one woman's bio described her primarily as a writer/director/creator, and as an actor, she made a very good writer indeed. But mostly they were splendid, and it was the tiniest space ever--the stage was about ten by fifteen feet, with seven rows of folding chairs in front plus one row each on the sides, I have photos that will be posted later--and it was very charming, and cheap, and fun, and at least 50% of the time genuinely very good.

Other items of note: I really need to stop snacking on this gourmet salt. It's in pyramidal or cubish crystals about the size of a peppercorn, and it's five dollars for a very small bottle and meant for sprinkling on top of things at the end of cooking, but just sticking a cube in my mouth and letting it melt until I can't resist crunching it is proving incredibly addicting.

things left to do that i will cry forever if i cannot do them: go on the ferry tomorrow when the forecast is almost clear, wander the lower east side and then up to Angelica Kitchen, go to MOCCA and the Drawing Center in Soho, possibly return to MoMA for things I missed and more of things I saw and already want to see again and rephotographing one amazing print that I screwed up taking a picture of. And then the fancy chocolate shops near there. Aside from the ferry which is tomorrow obviously, I have three days to do these things, since tomorrow is basically "relax and be outside as much as possible" and then early dinner with one of my sisters and then, at 11 pm, Sleep No More. So basically everything should be fine, and now I can go to bed. That was not very quick at all, actually.

fuck everything about my life

First massive failure of the trip has arrived, it certainly took its time but I suppose it was waiting for the moment of maximum failitude. Which is to say, no Sleep No More for me, that was an unnecessarily expensive lesson in overestimating my capabilities and not doing appropriate research. Specifically in forgetting that my body is now about fifteen years older than me, my anxiety can only be distracted for so long, and the bit in the NYT review, where I first learned about the show and just now was rereading, saying how all the audience members are required to wear a mask the whole time. Which even if I didn't wear glasses would give me a nervous breakdown in under half an hour. And of course I do wear glasses and if I wore a mask over them I would be nearly blind from limited vision and the inevitable fogging up. I am really sick of people designing shit that's just thoughtlessly cheerfully inaccessible to anyone without a perfect factory-issue standard model body in all respects. (See also: the planetarium show screen at the AMNH, what do you mean you don't have a crystal clear fully functioning field of vision on all sides and up to the ceiling?) What I should do is go, refuse to wear one, and demand a refund if they put up a fuss, because it was really a LOT of money, for me anyway. But dragging myself 3.5 miles downtown to NOT see a show is well beyond my capacity right now.

I don't even know if they're still doing this, i don't know how strict they are about it, I don't know if I would be the only one without a mask, but none of that matters now because the anxiety train has started rolling downhill and all rational thought and ability to make non-panicky choices has ceased for the night. It's really just a hook on which to hang my physical and emotional exhaustion, and I've already got the whole chorus of previously-suppressed doubts going: I'd hate running around all night, it would be too crowded, I wouldn't like it that much anyway, it's probably not very good, etc etc. Ninety fucking dollars and I'll never get the chance at anything like it again but I can't get up.