An Antidote to Commuting Unhappiness

Well, there it was finally said:  commuting can kill you or make you lonely, fat, and end your marriage if one of the couples commute to work so much as 45 minutes.  An article in Economist enumerated a litany of things that equate commuting with unhappiness - how all depressing and the worst part is: commuters know this all along, they feel it everyday as they sit in their cars watching each other on the road - they live this and now apparently, they can die from it too. And not from accidents mind you, but rather from unhappiness.

The only saving grace commuters desperately cling to is their conviction that what they are doing is inevitable, heroic, and therefore, good(?).  At any rate, the unhappiness is a known factor and commuters all over attempt to think nothing of it by singing, eating, mind-wandering (another blog post on that soon) to dreamy or murderous thoughts (whatever keeps one awake), drive-by calling folks, and my latest discovery- listening to audio books.

This post is not really about commuting, but about reading.  I used to LOVE reading.  I would stay on bed and read all day long.  Sadly, I no longer have the same fortitude - for anything really, except, for trolling social media sites, maybe?  Anyway, I decided recently, that to dilute the unhappiness that apparently consumes my commute to work, I will enrich my mind by listening to audio books.

This week, I discovered Librivox that offers free public domain audio books.  The free books usually consist of the classics - some really obscure tomes written by, of or for medieval saints (seemed to me) to the more staple ones like Dickens, et.al.  My first foray into the audio library was into the world of E.M. Forster.  I chose the Room with a View - a book that I had started reading a third into a long time ago and never got around finishing.

Just like Lucy Honeychurch was transformed by her trip to Florence, so did the audio-book listening activity transformed my commute.  The almost 3 hours commute went by literally (maybe, unsafely so) like a blur.  And just how I used to be transported into the world of the story when I read, I found myself in the painterly world of Florence and English countryside as I listened to the story of A Room With A View.  And thankfully so because Highway 80 is anything but painterly.

The funny thing though is, I continued to listen to the story even after my commute was over.  Admittedly, it was kind of disorienting to listen to a book when one is just sitting or lying on bed.  But in the end, the story took me over.  I was so deep into Lucy's world that I had to extend my time in it by watching the movie in Netflix.  The movie was not nearly as nuanced and rich as the book, but it was enlightening to see that Helena Bonham Carter used to be an ingenue and Maggie Smith was actually young once, and so was Judi Dench.

I was a little sad when my time with the Edwardian folks of A Room with A View ended.  I am contemplating on starting Howard's End today.

Orange Crush

So here we are, the end of August. The end of summer. At this point in August, I pretty much had it with the 90++ weather.  I long for mornings that do not feel instantly old and worn out at 10.  I am thinking about fall of course.  I can almost feel it.  It is getting darker earlier.  It is starting to get nippy at night. And I am starting to consider shoes that cover my feet and wishing that I'd wake up to a scarf kind of day.  So naturally, I start to think of orange - the color of fall - and the browns, and reds - the antidotes to all that relentlessly garishly bright light of overstaying summer.  

When fall nears, I instantly think of renewal as in redecorating.  We have an old artist's table that was painted orange a long time ago and it sits pretty much naked begging for stuff on top of it. The console below is inspirational and those birds are must-have and perfect for fall. I think of stuff like these the moment the whiff of fall is in the air. I saw pumpkins and Halloween decor at the stores the other day and all I could think of was - not soon enough, old friend, not soon enough. 

Some people do Spring cleaning, I do Fall revamping.  For me, fall is time for encore - a do-over, but better.  I am emptying drawers and letting go of stuff. I looked at my closet the other night and saw a battlefield.  Orange revives me. It gives me hope and brightness and inspiration.  It makes me happy.  I cannot wait for it to shed its neon status of the summer and gets restored to its autumnal glory. I am lying in wait with my orange scarves, purse, and throws for our couch where I can be found happily lounging- keeping warm.  Ahhhh, fall - come already! 

Ever the Royalist

'L

This was 1982.  I was crazy about anything written by Barbara Cartland - the Cinderella type heroines in their borrowed crinolines and dark beauty.  And I was obsessed about Princess Di - and quite frankly, who wasn't at the time? I read all the anecdotes about her in Reader' Digest - from her hat size to her jokes.  And when she had Prince William, it was like watching real life fairy tale - wayyyyy before - and much better-  the reality shows now.  Today that Prince has his own baby prince. And me? I am still a royalist. I love all that princely pomp and circumstance - the town crier and announcement on gilded easel - I love them all.

Hello Again. My Soul Stirs.

Oh, hello blog. It's been, what, a couple of months? I ran out of fume before I could even finish posting all our NYC photos - and that was in April! And summer came, and now almost over... Man, when laziness strikes, it really stuck! Well, I have been meaning to blog about this and that. But life- the mundane part of it which we all know is the majority of it, simply takes over. Sometimes, it is work, most times it is the fatigue and subsequent fugue that comes after my long commute. For about a month, it was my brief but passionate affair with Bikram yoga that drenched my body and soul with sweat, that all I could do was shower and sleep. And yes, there's sleep - at times elusive, sometimes sneaky, and lately, a slow coma that takes over the mind and then the body to the exclusion of all. But today, I finally found the energy and passion to write my thoughts down. It must be the 5 days of kicking my ass with Nike Training Club coupled with my half ass attempt to spurn starch.  At any rate, this is might as well, because ever since I took to paper to see my thoughts with my eyes, I have to do this once in a while to feel truly alive. My soul needs it. And my spirit, it honestly smiles when I write.  Ahhh, the stuff that rock our boat, I just wish it comes easy.

Day 2 at the MET

It only took me more than a month, but here it goes - day 2 of the intrepid NYC trip last April.  Day 2 was the day to check things off:  Met - check; Broadway - check; Time Square - check; glimpse of the Empire - check; Forever 21 - check!  It was about going with the crowd and letting go to the noise and chaos all around you - yes, even at the museum!  I was dressed more for a resort than the 60'ish weather that greeted us full blast when we walked uptown to the museum mile so I shivered all the way to the Metropolitan Museum.  The trip to the museum was such a drive-by that I vowed to come back that night - but sadly, we the lure of hedonistic Time Square so transfixed Alaia that we ended up staying there amid the crazies all night long. We could only hit the highlights of the museum and stopped by their cafeteria to get hijacked by the insane cost of the food there.  We so wished we ate at the food trucks outside instead.  Oh well, it was all part of the lore of the day.