I could not initially remember when I'd watched The Music Never Stopped before - I saw it again tonight, this time with subtitles in my parents' living room. But then I thought: wait, that's why I write. It scrapbooks memories. And sure enough, April 2011, Washington DC:
...we met in the middle and walked around the flowering trees right after a thunderstorm with a bottle of San Pellegrino in my backpack. That evening, we watched The Music Never Stopped, which is ridiculously hard to find in theaters. I’m usually not a movie person because I struggle to understand the dialogue (mmm, deafness) when filmmakers decide to do things like reaction shots and voiceovers that prevent me from lipreading. However, when (1) it’s about neuroscience (it’s based on an essay by Oliver Sacks) and (2) features Beatles music and (3) you’re watching it with someone who’ll fill you in with dialogue after the movie, it is an experience. It just has to be done the right way. And yes, the trees were beautiful...
I'm sitting in the kitchen post-movie writing emails to line up accessibility services for spring semester. It's one of the little things I wish I didn't have to do. It would be nice if there could be a default setting I could script in ("For all classes larger than 8 students, I would like in-person CART") and have that just show up at the start of the semester -- no meetings, no classes, no monthly check-in emails, no taking my documentation ("here's my audiogram to prove I'm deaf") back and forth, et cetera. The DRC folks at Purdue are wonderful and I know they'll make things as smooth as possible for me, so I'm not worried -- I just want to get this in for the spring semester before the start of term rush hits, and I hope I'm almost done with paperwork and going back and forth to make sure that accessibility-fu will be... done.
My clothes are somewhere in a stack of stuff that, until several hours ago, was jammed into the back of the minivan. Therefore, when I woke up this morning and was told we had a classy lunchtime invitation with some family friends, I had the option of wearing the dance sweatpants and college sweater I wore to haul boxes out of my apartment yesterday... or whatever was in my closet, which was... a suit.
It was not as bad as I thought it would be. The suit plus the haircut actually looks pretty... good. And... and I'm getting... new shoes. I'm... oh no, what's happening to me? I'm growing up into a woman gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuughhhhhh
No, but seriously, this "clothing that fits" thing? If they're high-quality and rugged and allow for full range of motion and all my usual criteria? They... they look good! They feel good! I'm so glad I'm almost done with clothes-and-things shopping because I want to get back to wearing whatever's on the top of the pile every morning! (It's just that it's going to be a different pile -- one with fitted argyle sweaters that go over collared shirts and slacks instead of tech conference t-shirts and identical ripped jeans.)
Now if you'll excuse me, I must go upstairs to read myself a bedtime story next to my baby blanket and stuffed dog. (I really am.)