Stacy Horn

I always thought I was the kind of person that when the time came and my looks started to go, I’d do something about it. I’d consider “procedures.” Well, the time is here and I don’t want to do anything. Well, except for something called thermage, because it’s non-invasive and I’ve heard nothing but good things about it. I can’t afford it though so that’s that and it’s not important anyway.

Now that I’ve made this decision I love whenever I read something that confirms that I’ve made the right decision. I was thrilled to read in the Times today that the fat removed when you have liposuction comes back, but in different places! Ew. Article here.

Here’s the thing. The women in the control group, who had to agree not to get liposuction during the research period, were told that they could get liposuction when it was over if they still wanted it, after learning the results. Well, in spite of the results, “the women in the study who had liposuction were happy, Dr. Eckel said. They had hated their hips and thighs and just wanted that fat gone. As for the women in the control group, when the study ended and they knew the results, more than half still chose to have liposuction.”

I took this yesterday in front of St. Vincents where they were getting ready for a protest. Backstory: St. Vincents, the only hospital in the area closed. They’re going to put some sort of emergency care facility there in its place, but it won’t be complete. I agree with the protesters. What if you’re taken there but it turns out they don’t have the kind of doctor or equipment you need? We need a real hospital.

Nora found the Paul Mealor Ubi Caritas piece on YouTube. Thank you, Nora! I also love the Maurice Durufle Ubi Caritas, which my choir has done. It was written in 1960, and has a very different feel. It’s nice to sing about amor in church!

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.
Exultemus, et in ipso jucundemur.
Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum.
Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.

Where there is charity and love, God is there.
The love of Christ has gathered us as one.
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Let us honor and love the living God.
And from a sincere heart let us love one another.

This is a creepy house in Cambridge, but I don’t think this picture quite captures the haunted feel it had. This is the kind of house kids dare each other to go up to.

There was one piece at the wedding today (Kate and William, who else??) that stood out for me, I loved it instantly. I looked at the list of what was played and it had to be the motet by Paul Mealor, but I can’t find a recording to confirm. But it’s got to be his. I’m familiar with most of the pieces, or the composers at least, and this one was very very different. And amazing. It had that Eric Whitacre haunting, other-world quality that I just love (which is not to imply that it’s derivative or un-original).

Anyway, a new composer to love! Yay!!  Here’s a piece about how it came to be sung at Kate and William’s wedding. Good for him.

Yes, I’ve been watching the wedding. I’ve got coffee and strawberries, and we’ve (the cats and me) been relaxing and enjoying the spectacle. Alright, not Buddy. Apparently he couldn’t care less. Not this thing.

Love the Grace Kelly-like dress, Kate is wonderfully serene, and William so happy. I wish I had a program, I’d love to know what hymns were sung. One of them sounded a little like Ralph Vaughan Williams, I liked it whatever it was. I’m sure I’ll be able to find a track list later.

AH. Here they are. Well. That was the briefest possible kiss. I think Finney might cry. Oh, they just kissed again. Uh-oh. Air strike. Don’t bomb the newlyweds!! Well, that was fun. Is that it? I’m sorry it’s over!

I guess it’s back to work. Or not.

A few photographs from my visit to the Houghton and Pusey libraries at Harvard yesterday. As always, librarians are wonderful. At Houghton everything was all ready and waiting for me, and while I was there the librarians made inquiries to get the permissions I needed.

AND, when I walked into Pusey 20 minutes before closing that librarian not only raced to get me the materials I needed (I’m furiously filling out forms, she furiously entering them) she tracked down information I didn’t know was there which turned out to be exactly what I needed.

I wasn’t allowed to take pictures of the inside of the libraries. This is looking down into Harvard yard from the steps of Widener Library, where I had to register and get an ID to look at Special Collections. (I have a growing pile of these kinds of IDs.)

This was just like a picture I posted recently, so I had to take it. This is looking out from Harvard yard into Harvard Square.

This was a motorcycle parked in front of the house where I lived when I lived in Cambridge. I always have such intense feelings when I go back to Cambridge and take the walk from Harvard Square to this apartment. I don’t well up, I don’t feel anxiety, I can’t even really describe it. You know, there are so many feelings we don’t have names for. It’s like I’m on high alert, every feeling, every sense is operating at 11. It’s not unpleasant, in fact it feels great.