To Elaborate on a Tweet

Yesterday I told Twitter that I'd dreamed that the cast members of each Star Trek series danced in pajamas. It was a delightful dream to wake up remembering, and thinking of it now makes me smile, so I'm going to share it more fully, as much as I can really remember.

More than anything, the overall feeling of the dream was that it was a commercial, done in support of some organization, or cause, or something. And I don't recall clearly certain casts being present (really, all I remember were the original cast, and the Next Generation cast), though the idea of the dream was that it was supposed to be everyone. And for some reason Gates McFadden wasn't in pajamas, but a rather simple and basic black bra and panties set. Patrick Stewart was in red silk, Wil Wheaton was in blue flannel (I think with horses on it). William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy were arm in arm, wearing matching pjs, and singing and dancing. They looked like they were having the most fun with it. Brent Spiner was doing the sprinkler, and George Takei started breakdancing at one point. There were a lot of other people there, but the specifics on what they were wearing and how they were dancing are lost in dreamland.

I woke up wishing I could find it on YouTube. I woke up wanting to support whatever it was that they wanted me to. I woke up wanting to ask Wil Wheaton via Twitter if he owned flannel jammies. I woke up feeling good, and smiley, and I giggle a little whenever I think about it. Like I am now, and have been all through the writing of this.

Where I Belong

I consider myself lucky that one of my earliest jobs was in a field that I absolutely love, that it was a great environment to work in, and that I had awesome bosses. It set the bar pretty high, and the last few jobs I've had have been pretty lackluster, even without the comparison. My dissatisfaction with my current job has me reminiscing about this early work experience, and I really find that I miss it.

Back in the day, I worked as an usher for a large performing arts center. It had only been open a year, and was a renovation of the city's first high school. I worked there for two years or so, commuting back on the weekends when I got into college. I got to the point where I wasn't just an usher, I was also able to house-manage the smaller of the two stages. I helped out on mornings when tickets for highly-anticipated events went on sale. I helped patrons find their seats, and get new seats when they had tickets on the fourth floor (the balcony, which was above the mezzanine - - it was really damn high up) and acrophobia kicked in. I just loved it. Not only was it a performing arts area, but it was also a customer service area.

My bosses were awesome. I'll never forget the one who gave me a great brief on the professors at the college I would soon attend, and later gave me advice I should have listened to. He was fond of calling me "AB" and high-fiving me. I think it amused him that I was so damn short, but it was still fun. He left, and his assistant took over, and she often seemed to have such a great energy, and attitude. These were people that I wanted to work for, and made me want to do well. Those are good feelings for a kid just entering the work force to have, I think.

Out of lingering nostalgia and a few other reasons, I decided to become a fan of the center on Facebook, and yesterday a video was posted of a horde of children streaming into the building to attend a show. I am not a person who is fond of children, but watching the clip made me want to be there so badly.

There's something wonderful about a performing arts center. It's not like retail, or (I imagine) other types of customer service. So often, it seems, shopping is like a chore for people. It's not something they get excited about very frequently (though there are moments, and when they happen, it's kind of awesome in its own way). But with performing arts, the energy can be incredible. For a lot of people, it's a special occasion, and they're happy to be there, and looking forward to the next few hours. I'd give my left arm to be back in that kind of environment.

Somebody's left arm, anyway. No need to go wasting a perfectly good one.

Too Long to Tweet (again again)

From an article titled 9 chic shoe rules:

7. Pair Sky-High Shoes with Tame Hemlines When going for major air, keep your hemlines at an inch above the knee. But when wearing a short skirt or dress, wear a lower heel or flat — it will balance you out and keep you from showing altogether too much leg.

I'm sure I'm missing some fundamental aspect of fashion, but I'm not sure how a shoe can make you show more or less leg while wearing an already short skirt. I'll accept the fact that high-heeled shoes make the leg appear longer (and more shapely), but I really doubt they can make you show "too much" leg when your skirt is already shorty short.

Besides. If you're wearing a short skirt, I'm going to hazard a guess that the intent is to show off the leg anyway, so why not wear high heels to make them look oustanding?