mythplaced_logic

I heard the Knicks victory before any announcement. The whole city was screaming. In my case, the screaming was from an apartment across the hall and in the building next door, not the entire city block, but still. Plenty enough to hear. Then I saw the announcements and the victory posts, many of which were about victory celebrations. I had a few minutes of thinking I was tired, then decided: now or never.

Two blocks is enough to muffle a lot of sound, believe me. The screaming around me had died down fast, and two blocks over, the partying was still going. It was nothing compared to some of the more heavily attended areas - in my neighborhood, there were a handful of bars and a lot of people at home watching TV, rather than a lot of people at bars and a handful at home, so there weren't traffic cones being worn as hats or people jumping onto street signs. There were, however, fireworks.

Not huge Fourth of July shows, no. But fireworks just the same. I'd heard someone talking about them and knew I had to see for myself. I wandered into cheering and clapping and clapped along for a while, happy to be part of a crowd where everyone was there for the same reason, thinking if I'd missed fireworks that being there was still good.

I hadn't missed them. I might have if I'd left two minutes earlier, but I was in the right spot in the crowd to be standing next to someone setting them off. They didn't go up that high, and they didn't light up the whole sky, but they were blazing up into the night and leaving trails of sharp smoke, yellow and red and green, beautiful high-speed sounds followed by the little booms.

I've seen pictures of other parties. They looked suitably epic. However, I wouldn't have stood right next to the fireworks at those, so I wouldn't say I missed out on anything.

I don't know how far I can see from my parents' rooftop. I know it's across the Hudson and into New Jersey, but I don't know how many miles it is past the Palisades and beyond. On days like today, it's even farther, because I watched a thunderstorm roll in. It wasn't quite over the horizon because there's no real horizon up there, and it was still a good long ways away, enough of a distance that when I got up there, it was sunny enough I put on sunscreen. It took a while to notice the cloud covering up the sky, a flat, hard gray all the way from here to far out there, because it wasn't doing anything but slowly moving in. There wasn't even any noise. There was a gorgeous set of edges to the clouds closer to us, the kind you get where it's a stark boundary between the clouds and the sky beyond, punched together and folded into itself and never going past that boundary.

It didn't have a smell and it didn't have a sound. It had a feeling from the sight of it, and it had an aura in the air you could feel, if you knew what to feel for. If you'd felt it before. I've seen thunderstorms come in from New Jersey before and it's always a thrilling treat. The anticipation makes you want to sing. I could see how, for all it was covering the sky north to south, there was still a bit of clear sky left far out west. Until there wasn't, and it was something hazy. Until it was gone too, and it was coming in.

My dad and I stood and watched, and took some pictures. We talked about the lightning and the thunder, and of watching the rain start to take over.

Far out west, we could see where rain was from how the clouds were coming down to the horizon line. Nearby west, we could see where the rain was from how the clouds had come down to the ground. It was almost like seeing fog roll into San Francisco, clouds come down to greet the dirt. We could still see the Palisades, the Hudson, and we could feel the rain roll in and fall down onto us. We felt it keep on coming, harder, and we started to hear the rain and not just the thunder. Then it hit. It wasn't a gullywasher as I'd call one because I saw it come in, so it wasn't as sudden as all that. But it was definitely a downpour.

It was something of a disappointment to look up and see it'd cleared up and the sun was shining. I'd been enjoying all the sounds. It was close to an inch of rain in under an hour, so it'd be a gullywasher as others would call such a storm. But I can't, since I saw it come in and touch down.

Spending the day feeling at 80% at best and staying up late demonstrates an inability to learn a lesson. Freely admitting to that doesn't help any, but at least I'm identifying the problem.

Another problem I identified this afternoon was being unable to address people in the gym when they're being loud enough I can hear them over whatever podcast I'm listening to. Cranking up the volume to drown them out would be to put it at the maximum, which wouldn't be a fix.

There's an elegance to a pristine film print, whether it's new or kept in good condition, where you can lean in and see the grain and take in the depth and breadth of the color. There's also a wonder to an older print that's been seen many times before, where you see the scratches and the flecks and the flickers, and when it hits just right, it's almost a living thing breathing in the dark with you - and because you see the film stock itself, you understand it's all the more real because you know it's a story, and it's easy to fall in love with a story.

Miracle Mile was playing as part of Bleak Week at a local theater. I knew what kicked off the plot, so taking that with it being Bleak Week, I had a good idea of where the movie was going, but not how it'd get there. I'd had one too many cups of coffee today and took an electric bike over to the theater, which unintentionally put me in exactly the right kind of excited state to focus and let myself be carried along by a very tightly told story that knew how to keep me engaged the whole time.

There was still a bit of light in the west when I left the theater. I took a regular bike back, enjoying the smooth ride. On my way there, I'd passed by the Lincoln Center premiere of Disclosure Day, and some of the installations were still there hours later. I'm seeing that one later this week, too. I expect it'll make for a curious double feature. I don't think it'll be a Killer of Sheep/Sinners experience, but it looks like there's enough in common to work as a conversation.

Downtime (6 words) by Hannah
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Carl/Eva Stratt
Characters: Eva Stratt, Carl (Project Hail Mary 2026)
Additional Tags: Microfic
Summary: 0500-0530.

Please enjoy this six-word story.

My niece A. had an allergic reaction earlier this week. She's fine, she's doing well, and her parents are concerned because they don't know what set it off yet. An appointment with an allergist has been scheduled. They're also not traveling to Texas this weekend.

Not because of their daughter, though. According to my mother, the reason they're staying in New York the same week A. had a bad enough allergic reaction to warrant calling an ambulance for an EMT home visit is because the flight was mistakenly booked to Houston instead of Austin.

They're coming over to Manhattan tomorrow instead of flying out to Texas, and I'm not complaining about it. Hopefully both her parents will come by. Of course, I'm also hoping I'll have about thirty minutes to go to the library and pick up a couple of hold items that came in. Both those things are on about the same level right now.

The meeting I had today was the first in a long time where I had space to talk. She let me take a few moments to look away and formulate my answers, and that's rare enough to be worth mentioning. I can't say if everyone at the organization works like her, and it still struck me as a good sign. So I'm tentatively open to the possibility. Wary, and open.

Also of positive note, the nearby mulberry tree's ripe. The only reason I didn't walk away red-handed is because a lot of birds had gotten to it before I could get a crack at things.

Going through the Murderbot books in hard copy, as the library holds allow, is a more personally enjoyable experience than the ebook version. It'll take longer to get caught up, and I can't say I mind the pace.

Today was a little better for general tension and anxiety. Some of it came from badly-timed intense coffee, with the rest being at something of a lower state than yesterday for no particular reason I can determine. At this point, I'm happy to take it.