is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.

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Feat and Feet.

But first, take a moment to figure out whether this applies to you, or you can help:

If you live in Colorado, Indiana, Michigan, Missouri, Nevada, New Mexico, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, or Texas, you or someone you know may have registered to vote but not been placed on the roles due to "technicalities" on the registration form. But you won't know it because no one will have told you. This matters because these lists are HUGE, and most of the people on them are probably going to show up wanting to vote for Barack Obama. So go here, to Project Vote and click on your county to make sure you are registered. But that's not all. If you live in or near any of the counties listed, look through to see if anyone you know is on the list. And SPREAD THE WORD so people aren't disenfranchised out of this important election.

And now, Feat and Feet.

Last night was First Friday in Philly, which means that all the galleries in old city were open late, showing art, and, in some cases, handing out booze and snacks. Gus and I did the walk and found, to our pleasant surprise, lots of good art, in various media. There were some cool tiny video screens in glass jars themed to surrounding objects; some great rorschachy wood and enamel thingamabobs; some interesting acrylic paintings with lots of discordant theme-variations within them; some interesting photos that looked like watercolors due to the inkjet printing technique; and so on.

We also saw an exhibit that was all photographs of the feet of choreographers. The photos themselves weren't breathtaking, but the idea was interesting, and it worked really well to pair it with little quotes from the choreographers about their feet. One of them has had to live with a lifelong disappointment that the human foot is so limited, unlike that of the monkey, with its more articulated digits. Most of the others tend to celebrate feet, calling them the connecting point of human creativity to earth, or other such slightly hippy-sounding talk. I was glad we stumbled across it on our walk, that story of performing feet.

That exhibit also made me realize that when people tell me I have nice feet, they aren't lying. My feet are attractive, I guess. But the feet of these choreographers, whoa. I mean, possibly this is because they've spent a lifetime hopping around on them. But really, people (and this means not only choreographers but anyone wearing open shoes or going barefoot or getting their feet photographed), have you ever heard of foot lotion? Man. That is something that bothers me all summer, wherever I am. Do people actually put on cute sandals or other open shoes and then think that somehow their feet won't be seen? It is distressing how often I see people who not only forgot to lotion up their feet on that morning (that's bound to happen every now and then), but apparently have never touched an emollient to their feet at any moment in their lives, and now they feel just fine sharing their deep scaly cracking peeling heel stubs with the public. Ouch, no matter what side you're on.

So, yeah, I lucked out in the foot lottery. High arch (this isn't actually always lucky, because there are some cute shoes that I simply can't wear), narrowish foot with unproblematic toes. I should have been a foot model. I would probably be making more money if I had pursued that line of employment. Ah, the sad, sad academy.

Anyway, First Friday was fun. And we had some sushi on the way home. Tonight we're in, cooking (in adherence to our official one-restaurant-outing-per-week policy, instated mostly to enable my Project Somehow Live Within Meager Means constraints--the saddest part is that sometimes I can't even afford THAT). Gus is in the kitchen chopping up vegetables and garlic for a yummy pasta. I'm drinking Pinot Grigio and typing.

This afternoon we saw THE BOSS (aka Bruce Springsteen) play a rally for Obama. I wasn't sure I'd be happy about it, because I don't really like having all of humanity up in my face. And we ended up standing next to the Family from Hell, with a really stressed out verbally abusive mom and a clueless dad and three dirt-covered boys. They should be used as birth control, that family. But it was really worth going to the rally. Springsteen sang some great songs, really commanded the stage, and then gave a really heartfelt moving speech about the importance of this election in Pennsylvania (a state that may not vote Obama) and in the USA in general (given the widening gap between the haves and the have-nots, and the loss of respect for the US around the world, and so on... YOU KNOW). He read it out of a little notebook he had with him, while strumming his guitar a little. It sounds hokey but it worked so well and was pitch perfect. So, though I've always only been able to refer to him as THE BOSS as if I were pronouncing the words with quotation works (you know, hipster-ironically), I now feel that it's a fine title for him to have. And that is one amazing feat for him to have performed.

7:42 p.m. - October 04, 2008
marti - 2008-10-06 13:58:03
Sigh. You've emabarrassed me into juicing up before yoga. Truly, it shouldn't have come to that.
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