11 Dec 06

Time:

Left my desk chair (at school, that is) 1656, on the corner near the Silver "Red Room" 1847.

Money:

$4, diet Pepsi and yogurt, Cafe University.
$7, pet food (even though they didn't need special feeding yet), Cafe University.
$12, two Kati Rolls (man, were they good) and a soda, Kati Rolls.
$5, maple macchiato and a biscotto, campus Starbucks.

More interesting things:

Guessed on the subway that a girl leaning wearily on Mom's arm, book barely in hand, who asked to check the time on Mom's cell phone was trying to plod through 30 minutes of homework reading. The journal she pulled out and in which she marked 6:42-7:12 indicated that my guess was good. It's teacher instincts....

Decided that there aren't too many towns where just in walking past a vitamin store on the way to the train station you can hear a pair of gonna-be world-class sopranos harmonizing a verse of the Carol of the Bells, and, furthermore, that I'm glad I live in one of them.

Waited curiously outside my research site to be let past the small throng of large, mildly sullen-looking boys and through the door, which was, oddly, locked. Then the sirens to which I had just wished good luck pulled up behind me, and a uniformed officer came up and asked with concern but also, I think, a degree of confusion, whether I was okay. I gave him a confused shrug/head-shake of my own and told him I was fine, that I was just there to do research. Maybe needless to say, I didn't get any further than that, so I have to go back this week. But it was interesting all the same.

Noticed, for the first time in awhile, that subway smell I'm so fond of. Now, MTA-New York City Transit is quite capable of creating any number of aromas, and many of them are not that inviting: diesel fumes, train flats hauling garbage, that inimitable subway-staircase scent. This one, however, is entirely inoffensive - I don't know what it is, just an underground smell, maybe - and, like the silver clanking rush of an express train blowing through a local stop, reminds me of how it felt to get a first-hand indication of the love for this city I already knew was bred in me. And just so you know, my skeptically-sniffing friends, this scent I'm talking about is well-known and definable enough that it is, somehow, featured in the waiting area of the Kong ride at Universal Studios.

Watched a Gator-looking university mailbag roll by - orange and blue, obviously - as I listened to a Gator-sounding guy - Johnny B., of course - on the other end of my phone.

Discussed our perennial third-quarter situation - hoping desperately that they're not going to let the whole first half get ruined - and realized there was no good answer when Dr. B. asked, "Do they think the other team doesn't have COACHES?"

Perused some ERIC results - apparently, I found some kind of magic combination of terms, to judge by the number of pages I was able to print - and came across not just a book chapter on rhetoric by Dr. Dobrin but also a Dr. Townsend article called (surprise, surprise!) "Wondering Discourse."

Dropped my headphones just in time to get a good comment from yet another friendly professor on this hall as he blew past my desk: "Don't get up, it's all right."

Wandered back out of the restroom and right into... Professor Number Two, who was looking quite lovely in a bright lime-greenish shirt. We had a quick chat about abstracts and school fights and so on, and then I headed back to my desk. Whatever else I think about him, it's pretty cool to know that he - and all our other professors - knows who I am; if I ever forget what being at this stage of education means has been accomplished (which is pretty easy to do when you're involved in its daily machinations), that is one kind of thing which can remind me.

Spotted, on my way to the second gym go-round, a girl whose cargo pants pocket looked so much like a glove I once had that I thought immediately of Michael Jackson.

Collected a Vizsla sighting. I don't think it's my first one, but it's my first officially recorded one, so I'll go with it.

Stood in line at Starbucks next to a girl (and even that took a couple of minutes to figure out) who was asleep on the couch but looked, in fact, creepily close to dead. Her skin was kind of waxy and very pale, but she was breathing well so Roey and I left her alone. (We did, however, contemplate letting Roey shove me into the couch so we could see if she'd wake up; it turned out there wasn't enough time for this operation before we were able to move six inches closer to our lattes.)

Found my gaze caught unusually steadily, as we studied on the sixth floor reading room, by the glowing arch... just as Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance came on my iPod.

Got an idea for an essay or a parallel blog or something: describing the lights you can see from the library. There was, as I mentioned, the opaque white glow of the Arch; the high-floating brilliant red letters reading "UARE," which I determined a little later was part of the W UNION SQUARE sign; the understatedly blue tiers of the Empire State Building; and, above all else in terms of luminosity, as far as I'm concerned, the glittering white Art Deco design of the Chrysler Building.

Listened to Circle of Life, which usually I skip, but this time around it occurred to me that you could apply it to the city very neatly and easily. Check the lyrics for a demonstration....

Watched disinterestedly as a youngish woman sitting on the subway bench knocked over her otherwise-empty cup, spilling ice halfway to the middle of the car; became more interested when she carefully collected the cubes, wiped up the melted part, and added herself to my campaign.