29 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?, although it involved the regular breakfast, Starbucks twice, the regular lunch, and Johnny Rockets.

More interesting things:

Listened, from my seat on the local, to people being shepherded around the Grand Central platform by a large voice which I started out thinking belonged to an MTA person; when the directions for this one to move to the left and this one to move to the right and this other one just to move concluded with, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am not no size seven, I am a TWENTY-SIX PLUS, and you need to go on and get out of my way. There's room in there! I need to get on this train," I was able to gather that it was in fact a politely - and amusingly - assertive passenger.

Sat finishing breakfast after Roey'd had to take off, and talked with my mom and then with my dad. They both sounded quite well, which is (needless to say) terrific, but one particularly cool aspect of this phone session was that just as my mom and I were ending our discussion of how utterly lovely my daily life really is, Billy Joel came on the radio with... "New York State of Mind," of course.

Benefited from an unusually warm and fuzzy series of interactions with Professor Alpha, the recounting of which must be prefaced with the observation that Alpha is almost always warm and fuzzy, so that Monday stands out is really saying something. It began with a high-five - what else is new - that eased into a hug especially pleasant because it was accompanied by some goofball commentary on the contrast between my tape-related arts-and-crafts ability (not that great) and my "brilliant thinker" status (yeah, right, but complimentary anyway.) It continued when I was directed to move a bit to the side and thus out of the way of Alpha's drawer-opening not with an "excuse me" but with a tap on the hip. And it wrapped up with another hug, although I can't quite remember the context of this one. (Damn, but I'll live because I certainly know it happened....)

Met with the person who works most closely with Professor Number One in the coordination of the sequence of courses in which I'm teaching. I wanted to find out more about the syllabus (which, you might argue, could be a useful thing for the instructor of a class to do), and I did, but I also enjoyed a very nice conversation including comments like, "Number One can't say enough about you" and "When we had that first meeting, I thought you were very professor-like - not in a boring way, but like, you know, like Alpha, engaging and with a strong presence" and so on. The thing is, I know this person likes him as much or nearly as much as I do, and if I ever said something like that to someone... well, I'm not sure what I could say after that!

Wolfed out Marisa's honey vanilla spray. I mean, it's certainly true that my sense of smell is quite sensitive and, maybe more importantly, attended to only a little short of the level required from the blind kids at French perfume schools (almost), but it definitely cracked me up when she was so surprised that I could identify not just the scent but where it came from; I believe she compared it to the difference between knowing a pizza has wafted through and knowing that it was a Patsy's thin-crust with mushrooms or something. The thing is, I HAVE that smell, because it's one of my favorites, and the reason it's one of my favorites is that it's not just vanilla, which I don't particularly like to wear by itself, but a very distinctive honey scent, too. It's hard to miss, but I'm glad it gave me the chance to do a wolfie-version party trick.

Sat in class and had occasion to think about thinking. Well, remembering, anyway, which is certainly a kind of thinking. Professor Alpha was telling us about the seventh-grade class he taught, less than deftly, for his internship year, and in recalling names and stories he sort of gazed off into what would probably be described as the "middle distance" if it hadn't been enclosed by a classroom wall; I wondered what he was seeing. I can remember things so intensely and pleasantly that I'm practically there, but when I do that what are my eyes doing? Or not my eyes, even, but the places on my brain that usually receive pretty much real-time conceptions of what happens to be in front of me at the moment? Are they resting? Are there synapses firing between those regions and wherever we keep our long-term storage items? Was I really looking at Alpha - because that's what I noted: looking/what's he seeing as he thinks - or was my brain too occupied with this unseeable stuff? (I'm not real fussed, as the LTC would say, about my lack of answers for these questions, but they ARE undemandingly persistent, and certainly interesting.)

28 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Rode down to meet Roey, Rebecca, and Rebecca's friend Jessica for brunch at Tio Pepe's, which was great, but I also really enjoyed the train trip itself: as I was sort of lost in a combination of "New York State of Mind" on my iPod and visions of myself as a dissertation-writing city firefighter, four live firefighters hopped on, somewhere between 51st and West Fourth. They were volunteer guys from other towns, but still - it was a sudden, pleasantly weird concrete representation of what I'd been thinking about.

Saw, since my headphones precluded listening to, a fairly lengthy conversation between what would, in another place, be an unlikely pair - two genders, two races, two ages, two purposes (one headed to work, I think as a nurse, the other, based on his rolling luggage, to the airport), two socioeconomic classes (I'd bet, anyway), but sitting on one bench in one car in one city, which I guess was the important part here.

Rescued someone's bankcard, kind of. Roey and I hit the Washington Mutual before getting on our way to the library, and he noticed a card and a receipt sticking out of one of the ATMs. I thought maybe the owner had run out of money and was too frustrated to bother taking them, but the record showed over 15 grand in the account, so that clearly wasn't the problem. This left us with the feeling that we needed to do something, but there was no place to, like, drop the card; Roey was in the midst of suggesting calling whatever number might be on the back of it when one young woman led through the door another who was spilling over with relief and "thank you's." She seemed like another student - her bag had a Harvard patch on it - and she was clearly as happy as I would have been to get something like that back. She took the card and took off, leaving us smiling in her wake, especially when the girl who'd gone to catch the owner told us that if she had "been up longer" she would have explained that she had seen who it was and would try to find her before she got too far; instead, she explained, all she could do was think, "Must... find... girl!"

Spent several hours at the library and, consequently, got the vast majority of the week's work done. Awesome.

27 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Watched out the window of Cafe Collage as a guy in black latex underwear and leather harness was led around on a chain by a guy in spiky clothing (that's all I remember about it) getting whacked on the ass with a big white paddle. Roey suggested that it might be a fraternity thing, but I don't know - they were bald and, like, 40.

Watched out the window of Cafe Collage as a dog in black shag and leather collar (maybe) was led around on a chain by a regular guy. The only interesting thing about it was that the dog looked exactly like Jake-a-Root.

Walked across one Village corner or another - I think it might have been Bleecker and Mercer, actually - listening to a middle-aged lady with some sort of European accent barely avoid getting run over by an impatient cabbie (she WAS, it must be said, standing in the middle of the freakin' intersection) and expressed her perturbation with a very pestered-sounding "What IS dees?", as though she couldn't fathom what a CAR might be doing in the ROAD.

Listened as a nice-looking man asked his small daughter (?) about her classroom-pet snails. We had hermit crabs when I was about that kid's age, and Anne mentioned keeping a corn snake (named Tangerine, incidentally) in her classroom, but this was the first I'd heard of school snails.

Schlepped down... Houston? no, Broome, maybe... past a stack of traffic which included a minivan with New Jersey or Pennsylvania plates, as I recall, and a man standing with his upper half well out of the sunroof supporting a professional-looking video camera. It was either a very well-supplied tourist or a very badly-supplied news crew.

Schlepped a little more - we were well into the fun parts of SoHo by this point - past a guy arm-in-arm with a very tall woman whose voice the surgeon forgot to enshrill; she was stylin' in her fur coat, but sounded like she should have been looking for her football jersey.

Ate, serendipitously, a cappuccino truffle from Kee's Chocolates, which I wrote about not long after I started keeping track of all the more interesting things. Anne and I were just sort of wandering back unambitiously towards campus, and I realized that that was the place featuring creme brulee truffles - at least if you get there early enough. The next best option, I learned, was not available, either, nor was the third-favorite, and I wasn't interested in a green tea-related item, which was supposed to be the best of what remained, so I stuck my neck out on the coffee front and enjoyed it immensely; if the others are really better than that one was, I will have to begin a system of pilgrimage.

Moseyed past a fenced-up space labeled, simultaneously, "Metropolitan Parking Lot" and "No Parking." You don't have to wonder about the proliferation of psychologists and psychiatrists in a city where even the real estate is identity-conflicted.

Looked in the window of the "Chess Shop" on Thompson (I think) and was at first completely taken with all the sets in the window - Civil War, monsters and their hunters, cowboys and Indians, Romans and barbarians, golfers, you name it - and then decided I was maybe even more taken with the sight beyond the shelves: about twenty people, different ages, men and women, all stooped cozily over half as many tables playing the game themselves on a chilly, windy Friday night.

Waited for Roey and Rebecca at the campus Starbucks, where I ordered a black tea-lemonade and a piece of cinnamon cake, and only had to pay for the drink; the cake, the cashier said with a scrunched-up smile and a tap on his chest, was "on me."

26 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

$7, big breakfast, the red place.
$5, really good falafel, Chickpea.
$50 (or so), purple-and-white scarf and two pairs of very tall socks, American Apparel.
$6 (or so; these things don't stick with me long), coffee and flaky chocolate thing, Cafe Collage.
$3, mocha that was decent for once, Think.
$18 (or so), Baluchi's.
$2, integration cookie, bodega on the corner near Baluchi's.

More interesting things:

Enjoyed a pretty relaxed day of nomadic studying. I started at my desk at school, went to lunch at Chickpea (which was awesome), went to Pless, went to Cafe Collage and met Roey's sister and Anne, went to Think, went to Baluchi's, went to the bodega, and went to my house. It was very, very cold, and the quietness was a nice change - but I'm glad for the not-quietness all the rest of the time!

25 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

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Walked to the Barney Building on Stuyvesant Street past a high window with a pink Care Bear on the ledge. Like the umbrella hanging from Lafayette's finger in Union Square Park, someone had to climb up there - or reach through what I recall to be a very secure window - to put him out.

Found that had she not suddenly decided to do otherwise, I would have been teaching a course this summer with Professor Number Five; according to Professor Number One, "I figured you could handle her!"

Agreed with Professor Number One's response to the breakfast buffet laid out at the meeting we were attending in the Barney Building: "Sure, I'll have some breakfast... what the hell." (Even if I only drank coffee.)

Discussed water exercises with Professor Number One (we WERE hanging out for awhile, waiting for the meeting to begin), at which point she mentioned "my son the doctor," and was so cool that she was making fun of herself for saying it.

Contemplated, for some reason I can't specifically recall right this second, the fact that "word gets around." I still think this is true, especially with regard to the small community of a program within a department within a college within a university, and I'm sure I enjoyed whatever it was that caused me to think about that, but now I can't remember. Nor can I remember why I typed "belonging" into my phone, but again, I'm sure there was a really good, really pleasant reason for it.

Noticed that the former chair of the department, who sings "White Christmas" on a Monday morning and responds to Professor Alpha's apologetic "Sorry, young man, you're a little late and it wasn't white" with "Oh, okay... well, have a good weekend!", was wearing Abercrombie cargo pants with his more professorish sweater.

24 Jan 07

Time:

On local 658, arrived Union Square 714, arrived gym 717.

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Watched, on my way home, a lemon roll out of a shopping bag and across the subway bench; the guy whose leg it rolled into picked it up matter-of-factly and handed it back to its owner.

Ran into my lovely roommate Ben on our collective way home, which made the short walk back that much nicer.

23 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Spotted another "God Buns" graffiti note; this one was visible from my perch at the red place but included, rather to my amazement, the words "Polite NY'ers" just below.

Discussed with one of my cohort-mates for just a minute what I'm actually doing this semester and was asked, "Do you know you have the BEST assistantship I've ever heard of?" I could only sort of laugh sheepishly in response, because of course I know damn well what the answer is.

Spelled out my email address for Professor Alpha once more and this time was asked what the "S" is for. I told him that because I'm not overly fond of the answer, it's a bigger secret than anything involving 70-year-old boyfriends, but that I'd tell him anyway. If I'd known what the response would be - "Hmm, Simone - that's... sexy..." - not only would I have shared that information weeks ago but I would have behaved as though my greatest wish had always been to switch first name for middle.

Stood in Professor Alpha's doorway shortly thereafter, just waiting for a minute to ask a question, and was drawn in, as seems to be the usual and exceptionally pleasant custom, to a conversation; since I was still standing - hanging, actually - in the door, I was instructed to sit down because I "don't have to lurk." (Needless to say, I explained that lurking is what I'm famous for, as the inhabitants of Norman Hall well know, but I also went ahead and sat down.)

Had my current situation summed up very nicely by Marisa as we hung out for a minute in the lobby: "The racehorse is now at full gallop." For this and many other reasons I'm glad that it appears we'll all be able to see each other more this semester than last.

Enjoyed quite thoroughly the chance to sit in on a faculty candidate dinner. It was not inexpensive by any means, but neither did it involve gratuitous cash-flash (well, university-plastic-flash) - we enjoyed two very nice bottles of wine because that's what everyone wanted, but shared appetizers and desserts (this last communally, may I add, as without little plates like the ones they set out for the first course, we resorted without comment to passing them around and taking a bite at a time) because that's also what everyone wanted. It seemed like a very fine example of genuinely appreciating a convivial and comfortable (and comfortably-funded) setting, and I might be misidentifying the whole thing, but I don't think so and I loved it.

Had occasion to announce, at dinner, that I am a fan of Law and Order. One of the faculty asked if I meant the original version or one of the new ones, so I explained my answer by mentioning how fond I am of Jerry Orbach and Sam Waterston; then, obviously, I had to avoid the gaze of Professor Number Seven for several minutes, as she had been on Professor Number Six's floor last Friday.

22 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

$0, breakfast at the red place, because Roey owed me from something else.
$7, the new usual lunch, the new usual place.
$13, half an appetizer and Drunken Noodles, Galanga.

More interesting things:

Walked to breakfast with Roey and misheard - though I think I can be forgiven, in view of the number of times he actually does say "boobs" - when he told me about some girl's enormous boots. What I particularly liked in this instance was the way he characterized them: he said it looked like she had stepped in two dogs.

Watched a guy who might have been trying to multitask in his efforts both to improve his posture and keep his head warm. He had a paper cup of coffee balanced up there, and appeared to be concentrating on something about that activity; whether it was maintaining the cup in its precarious position or focusing on whatever heat it provided, I'm not entirely sure.

Passed one of the green mailboxes on University Place which read on the side - and I'm quite sure it wasn't there last week - "God Buns 1986," whatever the hell that might mean.

Saw a pair of Basenjis, prompting me to think that if you're really after a "barkless" dog but prefer not to trade off, I don't know, a nice coat or an interesting personality, you would do much better to collect a couple of huskies.

Got an offer from Professor Alpha to show me not only the video of some strange sort of play in which he helped narrate the history of the ed school for the purposes of celebrating its renaming but also, "if you really want to laugh," the tapes of the Sunrise Semester, "like, 25 years ago." Of course, I noted for his benefit that I'd missed it the first time, as I'd only been a year old, to which he responded, "Yes, you probably weren't awake yet."

Attended the first meeting of the Monday class, conducted in a particularly enjoyable way by Professor Alpha AND Professor Number Seven. A couple of us walked to the classroom with the professors, the discussion was great, the assignments are going to be authentic and profitable, but the best part was when I opened my comments on what led me from my own teacher ed program to this course by contrasting with two of my classmates' descriptions of their "excited young professors" my experience with excited middle-aged professors; this would not by itself have been more than a mildly witty transition except that when Number Seven visited Alpha's office this morning, I recounted for him Friday's events with Professor Number Six, enabling him to respond to my introduction, "Good thing they weren't older," thereby causing almost 33% of the students - and 100% of the instructors, thank you - to let out a snort and a giggle.

21 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Looked at the PC desktop belonging to my neighbor at DT/UT and found that although for all the normal Windows-related reasons it looked very familiar, all the labels and warnings were in Italian, which seemed incongruous.

Enjoyed a "weird confluence of interactions," as I termed it in my day's notes, when the friend of a friend sat down on one side, and another friend soon came up behind her. None of us talked much - we were all actually working - but it was a pleasant experience anyway.

Decided that it was a little weird to sit at a lovely old dining room table - complete with enormous wooden candlesticks in the middle - with, for the most part, people I didn't know, all of us doing our own stuff, but not any less cool for the weirdness.

20 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Got a free and lovely cranberry scone at Cafe Collage, which is an excellent coffee and study spot, because after weighing the relative merits of running a credit card and getting rid of a day-old baked product, the guy behind the counter determined that the latter won out.

Spotted a gentleman looking nice and warm in a long wool coat on the subway; he also appeared, at first, to be accompanied by a pet raccoon sticking out between two buttons of said coat, but it turned out to be a furry hat stowed for travel.

19 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

$9, lunch, Think.
$24, apples, pears, and Brie, whatever cool gourmet market that is on my way from the train to my apartment.
$10, half (well, one-third) of a cab from Brenan's section of the universe back to mine.

More interesting things:

Woke up and checked outside to determine whether the gray glowing through my blinds meant it was raining; in fact, it meant it had snowed! There wasn't anything really left on the ground, but cars were lightly covered and the trees were dusted. As Ben pointed out, even the garbage mountains looked pretty.

Listened, on the subway, to a high schooler studying her vocab list with a friend give voice to my only complaint of the morning: she described how she felt like her day was all out of whack if she overslept and messed up her routine, which is just what had happened to me that morning - if Roey hadn't texted me, I might have been REALLY late for the rest of the day.

Arrived on my floor to hear that I'd "missed the excitement": our mouse had made an appearance. A bit later, I was in the ladies' room and heard shrieking in the lobby, so I figured either someone was having a heart attack or he'd come back once again. Fortunately, it was the latter, and as I tromped over to see if I could spy any little tails under the refrigerator, the lady who sits closest to the kitchen area - and who really wishes we were entirely rodent-free - stood on top of her desk and commanded, "Go away, mouse!"

Darted into Pless to ask my bald guard friend to let me up the elevator but slowed down for just a second to heed his direction of "Mangia, mangia!" and grab half a muffin from one of the tables in the lobby. I'm trying to think what we would have done with leftover meeting chow, either at Florida or at my high school, and I'm thinking that the sentence "Put it out for the students" would not necessarily have entered anyone's mind.

Left the deli on the corner of Broadway and Waverly (guess that's another buck I spent, then) as I organized the contents of my various hands and pockets. Since I still had a quarter out by the time I made it to the guy who always tells me to smile for the downhill, I put it in his fingers - not an open palm, but a thumb and index aimed like you would if you were taking an item from someone you were cooperating closely with - and told him with a shrug that it was all the change I had; I got in return a "thanks" that had a very mildly surprised overtone to it, as though it were unusual that in all his efforts to collect change he'd actually managed to do it... but that's probably because from me it was!

Returned to the third floor of Pless in order to pay Annette back for the lunch money she had spotted me and set myself up for one of the most amusing series of exchanges I've had in a long time. It began when two classmates and I were really just sitting around shootin' the shit (as the 1SG likes to say) and, I think in an effort to explain my slight trepidation over introducing myself to the individual hereinafter known as Professor Number Six, whose office was right there, I mentioned Roey's declaration that if I had to lust after someone, it might as well be Number Six, who evidently is outstanding in every way. One friend was obviously confused by this comment, and wondered how he had come up with something from "so far out in left field," which, of course, did not serve to remind me that perhaps these particular Purple Friends weren't already aware of my tendencies until after I had replied, "Wellll, maybe short center field." Needless to say, my colleagues insisted that I explain, and in the process of doing so, Friend Number Two recognized where I was headed and told me that although she felt the same way, it was getting tricky, as her rule had always been to keep it younger than her father, who of course is getting older. At this point, for better or for worse, I had to stop agreeing, which I indicated with another, "Wellll...." After a long and red-faced back-and-forth involving the words "sixty," "seventy," and at least one more "welllll," my classmate at last concluded exactly what I meant, and this is where things got hilarious. She tried to hold it in - she was really working hard - but all her efforts served to do was make things that much louder and more dramatic when she couldn't manage it any longer, with the result that all of a sudden we heard Professor Number Six AND the lady he was talking with making comments and chair-scraping noises preparatory to coming outside to investigate, prompting Friend Number Two to shriek at me, "You better fucking make something up fast!" Once they had made it into the main room, she eked out the words, "Number Six, if it were about ME I would tell you but I can't because it's about HER personal life!", indicating spastically as she did so that I was the "her" in question. Scarlet-cheeked and still burbling, I apologized profusely to Number Six for causing disruption and added that this was not a particularly auspicious start to things, since the whole reason I'd still been sitting there was that I had wanted to introduce myself. We enjoyed a remarkably long conversation about his house in Boynton and my house in Boynton and the Delray dividing line and the Gator Chomp and all of this, until at long last he returned with his guest to his office. Professor Number Seven came to talk to Friend Number One, who works for her, Friend Number Two got up, I remained to chat for a minute about the Monday class, and then I too got ready to leave. I did want to apologize once again and say 'bye to Professor Number Six first, so I went to his door and found Friend Number Two standing there with him. I began by making some contrite noises and then added that since it was really pretty rude to laugh that conspicuously without explaining what it had been about, I would tell Number Six the big secret. Friend Number Two tried to book, telling us that she couldn't stay in there, but I said that as she had started the whole conversation, she would have to stand by; she agreed and announced, "Well, it will make me feel better... Number Six, you know how I have a thing for older men?" I was somewhat amazed that he already knew this particular information, which may have explained the relative ease with which I made my own announcement. Pleasant, un-shocked discussion followed - including invitations for the other involved party to visit - and ended when, upon learning that all the excitement had been over for awhile, Number Six said, "Well! Next time I'm in Florida, you come visit me at Such-and-Such Development - I'll introduce you around! You know... it's a 55-plus community." At which point I nearly fell over laughing - Friend Number Two may have been having a coronary behind me - but I did my falling in the direction of the door, gasping good-byes and staggering out on the certain knowledge that not only is he, at least, one professor not likely soon to forget me, but that based on his comments about my sense of humor and his characterization of me as "Good people! CRTL people!" we are off to a fine start.

Examined the Restaurant Week website and found, through my admittedly uninformed interest in visiting the 21 Club, that the place with the lawn jockeys across which I stumbled in my endeavor to make it to the tree back in November was not a) weird or b) something I'd never heard of.

Talked with the advisor on my floor about changing the title of one of my courses (just for the sake of overall transcript prettiness) and engaged in a pleasant conversation featuring the immeasurably flattering comment that "[I] seem to have a really good relationship with Alpha."

Pondered very contentedly that my quest for a nice Brie (or two, as it happened) did not take me away from my usual trip between subway stop and apartment. This is more than you can say for most cities.

Learned, from an overhead advertisement on the train to Brenan's, that Jerry Orbach donated his eyes (well, eye parts, anyway. Retinas? I forget which they can use.) It was nicely captured in the statement, "Jerry Orbach gave his heart and soul to acting, and his sight to two New Yorkers."

Got snowed on rather impressively on my trip from station to Brenan's. There were flakes stuck visibly to my black coat.

Enjoyed very thoroughly our wine tasting. We made it, increasingly happily, through 13 bottles, of which my favorites were the Francis Coppola claret - which tasted, as my menorah-lighting friend Marisa agreed, like Christmas - and the Clos du Bois Cabernet Sauvignon, which was (I can't believe I'm about to write this) big and fruity without being so big that it became spiky. All the cheeses involved were also very popular, including the first Brie, despite its nuclear encounter with Brenan's microwave, and we have already made some non-specific but very enthusiastic plans for another "tasting" of one variety of another; in his impatience with all the wine "breathing," Brenan suggested that perhaps the next go-round involve a margarita tasting.

18 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Decided that if I were talking to lifeguards, I would describe my position now as being similar to that of an instructor, and I would say I'm learning to be something like an instructor trainer. One interesting thing about this is the four different words we use for describing the process of learning something - an instructor trainer compares to a teacher educator - and another is that it's pretty crazy for me to think of myself as being at the level of "instructor" when it comes to teachers....

Sat working away at a series of PDFs on the sixth floor when I heard Professor Number Two's voice somewhere behind me. As he walked out past the front desk, he made a dramatically surprised face and asked whether I worked there, too ("too" meaning in addition to the three ladies who were already there or in terms of as well as the other things I do, I'm not sure). Ella answered for me - which was good, because I was laughing, of course - with, "No no no, she works for AL-PHA-AA!" (although of course she used his actual name) and Number Two came back with the comment that "You are everywhere!" Of all people, he might be the most likely to know that it is an industriously cultivated and much-valued ubiquity I'm working on here, and therefore probably was not surprised when I called after him "Don't forget that!"; I wonder, however, if he knows that for me, at least, "industrious" is not the same as "mercenary," and whether he has the same shared understanding of just how much fun it is.

Sidled up to Professor Number Four's door with a genuine question, for once - concerning the class selection issues Professor Alpha is not exactly clearing up for me with a sweep of the hand - and had, amusingly, to repeat it when Number Four got more involved with selecting my "Book of the Day" than with contemplating my dilemmas; after agreeing first that I needed about a hand's-width of texts most times I see him and second that the course I'd originally wanted would in fact work well, I asked him if I could brag for a second and went on to tell him about my lit review. He only sort of looked at me - half an eyeball was still aimed in the direction of his bookshelves - but his response and the ensuing conversation was priceless: "Yeah... and? That's what you were supposed to do. Write things to be published." "Number Two! I never WROTE a literature review before! This is fresh out of the BOX! I didn't know what I was DOING!" "Come on, come on... you've been waiting your whole LIFE to write this review. That's what you CAME here for." "Yes, but...." "Yes but nothing! [Insert narrow but laughing gaze here.] Don't give me this innocent stuff - don't hide in that 'Oh, you've never done it before!'" And of course, all I could think was a) this is hilarious yet largely accurate, b) if someone only heard the last half of the conversation one or both of us would have been in trouble, and c) I don't ever want to have a professor-related conversation in Peculier Pub again. (Okay, that last one is a lie.)

17 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

$1.25, diet Pepsi before lifting, gym store.
$10, long-coveted Cookie Monster shirt.
$4, egg-white sandwich and coffee, the red place.
$16, notebook (just three-subject, for the first time since I've kept this practice) and "My Freshman Year," school bookstore.
$4, latte, Cafe Collage.
$8, the new usual lunch, the new usual place - "Campus Eatery." (Oy.)
$11, Zen noodles, Galanga.

More interesing things:

Got exactly $3.52 in change at the bookstore, just as I was considering the origins of my notebook choices.

Enjoyed very much the chilly walk from my building to the coffee shop, mostly because it was so cold and bright that it reminded of a day probably 22 or so years ago, when my dad took me to the dentist but in order to get to the car we had to walk across the shiniest, sharpest, clearest, blue-and-white morning of a snow day I had ever seen; I still remember exactly what it looked like.

Bothered the really excellent individual who serves as the chief secretary on our floor with yet another question about a professor or a course or something, this time one in the administration department; Miss J. was going to make the call for me, but not before warning me protectively that "They're not like us, you know...", that they were instead not terribly pleasant or acccomodating. The funny thing, of course, is that I was already thinking that well before I got started at this particular university.

16 Jan 07

Time:

?

Money:

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More interesting things:

Spent the vast majority of the day at my desk, which meant I didn't see a whole lot outside but did get a few fun things from the people around me. For instance, the morning began with me contentedly slouching into Professor Alpha's office (as usual, these days) and escalated when one of the professors from down the hall came in for a conversation about dinner, birds, interior decorator neighbors, and the Poconos - pretty much in that order - which turned into less of a two-person discussion and more of a two-person explanation for my benefit, which was weird but pleasant. Then Professor Number Four came in with something for Professor Alpha to sign; it took me whole minutes to nose out what they were talking about, but when they concluded with some comments about how someone was "finally finishing" and that "maybe he'll actually do it this time," I managed to divine that the slowpoke in question had at last made it to his oral defense; this became explicitly clear when Number Four pointed at me and looked over the top of his glasses while exhorting that "YOU" (which is to say, me) "HAD BETTER NOT TAKE THAT LONG." I laughed, of course, and all the more when Alpha jumped in with, "Oh, no, no," Number Four stopped and agreed that I would be sure to get a dissertation done on George Kelly post-haste, and Alpha finished it up with, "No no, we don't have to worry about this one." All of which I appreciate, even if some of it might have been - not necessarily was, but could have been - a thinly-veiled directive as much as a statement of confidence.

Told Professor Alpha, after everyone had left and we were able to continue - for a few minutes - with our earlier talk - that I was very fond of Professor Number Four; when he told me that Number Four already knew that and I asked how, I was told that I'm "not exactly a great poker player." I protested, of course, based on the idea that I don't NEED to keep a game face as far as this is concerned, but Alpha was already on to his usual series of "Yeah! Yeah! Sure, sure, sure..." which serves as the amusing signal that a) he doesn't care what you're saying and b) it's time to get on with your next point.

Enjoyed a cup of coffee, delivered to my desk by none other than Professor Alpha himself. To borrow from a comment made by the Poconos prof concerning her neighbor, it's good people.

15 Jan 07

Time:

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Money:

$26, Gristede's (and that included cash back for my freakin' laundry....)
$12, Zen noodles, Galanga.

More interesting things:

Asked a guy with a British accent and a very small daughter if he wanted my seat on the subway; he thanked me repeatedly and, like, with surprise or something before explaining that they were just going one stop so it wasn't necessary. I would like to think that I added to the politeness campaign today, and that if this guy actually lives in England - as his apparent surprise that I would offer my seat seems to indicate - he'll go back thinking that New Yorkers ARE Polite.

14 Jan 07

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Ate breakfast with Roey, watched the Patriots game at Jack Russell's, and celebrated afterwards with Brenan at Mustang's, but nothing too fascinating as I recall.

13 Jan 07

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Sat across from a pretty little blonde girl - maybe six or seven - with her mom. I noticed her first because she had on one of those stripy woolen Norwegian-looking hats, with the pompom and the ear flaps and the long ties hanging down at the side, and realized that in order to carry off a hat like that (because I didn't really think anyone could) you have to be a pretty little blonde girl of maybe six or seven. I also noticed, however, that her mom was attending very closely to what she said, most of which was in French, I think, so maybe they were practicing and Mom was listening for, like, verb tenses or something, but in any case that is a kid who is going to grow up not just smart but interested in the world around her.

Ran into a certain spiky-haired guy from Professor Number Two's office as I walked to the subway in the evening. He told me he was out for his nightly walk (and coffee; I told him I might see him in Starbucks sometime), we chatted further for a minute, and then we went on about our business. He is a cool guy, though, so I'll keep my eyes peeled.

Made my way from the 6 at 53rd to the E with a crowd of southern lady tourists who carried on a conversation about the station's aroma that was so loud it reminded me of the Dave Barry column about airplane passengers squawking over seat preferences. One said something along the lines of, "OOH! THE SMELL!" to which one of her companions replied, "OH, YOU KNOW ABOUT THESE SINUSES... I CAN'T SMELL ANYTHING!", which in turn received the response of, "OOH! YOU'RE LUCKY! THE SMELL!" And all I wanted to add to the discussion was that it wasn't any worse than normal, and that every single other person there knew that, so they had now identified themselves plainly and without reservation as tourists-with-a-capital-T. (In case the accents and the volume hadn't already given it away, I mean.)

Looked up as I stood waiting for the E and saw an otherwise uninteresting metal box which looked exactly like the ones next to all the other light fixtures except for the part where someone had worked out a little arithmetic; it was the addition of two double-digit numbers, and the mathematician in question had even remembered to be careful about marking the carried "1" before moving on to the tens column.

12 Jan 07

Time:

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Money:

$6, yogurt and protein bar, the red place.
$18, the usual Pita Grill chicken sandwich, this time with corn on the cob, Pita Grill (but delivered to my apartment, thank you....)

More interesting things:

Went to the "Cooper Square Post Office" (that is to say, the one on Fourth Avenue at 11th) to send off various jars of fruit-related items and interacted not only with Superfly Postal Clerk Man, in short 'fro, blacked-out brass-rimmed aviator shades, chin-length sideburns, and large diamond pinky rings but also Mr. I'm Really Having Fun Being a Postman, the length of whose ponytail was matched only by the width of his smile; these two guys were absolutely the nicest, most accomodating postal workers I have ever met, and I'd like to know what they're smoking.

Walked back to campus on 9th Street and passed those little sidewalk tree-holes, which is not exactly notable, except that there was, like, a whole NEST of holly branches, pine branches, and pine cones around the base of each tree. I don't know if it had been a series of Christmas decorations that fell, but I kind of hope it wasn't, first because decorating the ground is a pretty unusual idea (and it looked cool), and second because it reminded me of when I used to set out pine needles to feed Hawkeye, my old imaginary falcon friend. Hawkeye really would have liked to sit under these trees.

Spent a significant chunk of time with Professor Number Four. I really only made such a point of catching him without someone else in his office so I could let him know I'd read the George Kelly, but then he started handing me stuff either to pitch in the recycle bin behind me or to bring home and read, and I ended up standing around with him for... well, half an hour at least. He is SO funny, and in a different way from the other SO funny people here - he really does remind me of my grandfather, and although I don't know where he got it from, he seems to have a very good idea about what (in the grander sense) I'm doing here and how I tend to go about it. He knew that I wouldn't be intimidated by his classical music "quiz" (which I failed even though I did recognize that it was a film score rather than something old), that in my opinion he can say whatever he wants and I will gladly keep listening, that I'm a "serious kind of person," and that I know about - and really, really value - the "apprenticeship" aspect of becoming a professor myself (which takes us back to the "I'll keep listening" part, because he opened that topic up with the line, "Well, that's why they don't learn much science in Africa!" I was glad he explained that in terms of laboratory vs. classroom, because that wasn't one I was going to figure out on my own.) On top of all of which, I appreciate his dry humor and straight-shooting commentary: he showed me a stack of "really important" cassettes and told me that if, you know, he had a heart attack tomorrow, THOSE are the ones I should worry about for archival purposes, because they're the recordings from the first England summer program. (As far as that goes, I guess he reminds me of my mom, too!) In any case, he sort of suggested something about "now that you come by every now and then," so if he enjoys it even half as much as I do, I'll have to make a point of catching him a little more often.

Sat highly amused on the train back uptown, across from and next to a group of five - three grown-ups and two kids - none of whom seemed to be from New York... and I made that call before they started talking about FAO Schwarz. The more talkative of the kids - blonde, braided, and in a Baby Phat puffer jacket - had to be from the south... and I made THAT call before she responded to my comment that I was from Florida (which I'll explain momentarily) with, "Ohmigod! I'm from Florida too! I'm from Sarasota!" Ha: a few months here turns you into a subway anthropologist. Anyway, the reason I told her where my family lived was because just a minute before she had taken out from her shopping bag this positively ENORMOUS black ball cap, lavishly enlivened with some ostensibly New York-ish pattern, and plunked it sideways on her head without removing the tags; I started talking because when she insisted to one of the adults that "NOBODY takes off the tags... that's, like, the style!" and the adult in question just sort of snorted in disbelief, I felt I had to add that I had seen the same thing as a teacher: that really IS the style, strange though it may seem. Before they got off en route to FAO, the Florida girl gave me an exceptionally enthusiastic "Bye!", which the woman followed with, "Well, I guess that was your entertainment for the day, right?" Hey, absolutely - tourists are a lot more amusing here than they are in Florida, where they manage to get in the way when you're driving even more than those people with blue hair and phone books on the driver's seats....

11 Jan 07

As this will be a wrap-up not only of the rest of break but of the last couple of days as well, it will not follow the usual format... back to the regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Listened to my iPod as I made my unexpected but very pleasing way to Gainesville on Saturday, and came across the first highway sign for G'ville just as We Are The Boys started playing.

Answered the phone at GM and GP's house as I fixed up GM's Shuffle and found my dad on the other end with questions about Sunday's brunch. I handed the phone off to GM, who talked for a minute and then interrupted herself with, "What? What? Bob, get off the phone! We're NOT having oysters tomorrow!" All the better to match his campus doppelganger with, my dear - see Professor Number Four's comments re: the menu for the last day of class in the fall.

Thought, for some reason - maybe I smelled hazelnut coffee or something - about getting to be the "XO" at camp that summer. It's important to remember the way the LTC handed over the Major's files (and his keys) and said, basically, "Get to it." I don't think it occurred to him once that I wouldn't be ABLE to do it, and I very much appreciate that he DID know how much I would enjoy the task. It's also important to remember the immediate and full-blown sense of trust and camaraderie that the LTC's command decisions - and, probably, the way I behave in those situation - inspired from the NCO's... including the infamous CSM "Ranger" Cunningham, who, as the LTC noted, "treated me just like another freakin' NCO." I value knowing that I "belong" in an environment like that as much as I do in the one I currently occupy, despite (or maybe developed because of) their differences.

Enjoyed very thoroughly Sunday brunch at Dad's. He had obviously planned it thoughtfully, with a nicely-set dining room table, mimosas, salad, and some excellent quiche, and even got it all done exactly on time for me to leave when I needed to. I'm not sure what in particular made the whole thing so unusually pleasing, exactly, but I know I enjoy entertaining my grandparents with my comments, joking with my dad (and establishing connection via recognition of his cake choice - I knew it was raspberry before I'd tasted it where my dining companions didn't figure it out even after taking a bite), and... there is something to be said for mimosas on Sunday morning, I guess, particularly when they are preceded by my dad's toast of, "To the doctor and, well, the soon-to-be doctor."

Met with Dr. B. just after that brunch at Maude's. It is always so good to see him, and of course we start an upward spiral in that department because then we talk about how good it is, and how we appreciate the friendship and our ability to pick up as though we never did leave off, and then we're back to enjoying it even more. Also, I really appreciate that when he cut off his commentary on his own brunch with the comment that I hadn't come all the way to G'ville to talk about sausage, and I responded with an appropriately suggestive and impolite "Welll...", he laughed and then asked, "So! You in love?" How, I would like to know, could I be anything less than very, very good friends with such a person?

Got to make this terrific Gainesville trip thanks in part to my experiences earlier Saturday. There have been days in my life when I really didn't want to get the mail, but since there was sort of a faint and undemanding hope that perhaps a certain check could possibly show up (and since I'm past the days of worrying about report cards) I headed outside on hearing, unusually, the mail truck roll up, and, lo and behold, I found a promising envelope. I didn't open it until I got inside, because I figured at best it would be the remainder of the December contribution, but when I did I saw an infinitely more impressive item, and on a cashier's check to boot. An exceptionally pleasant phone call to my mom and a fast, grateful, somewhat teary-eyed visit to the bank ensued, and before I knew it I was on the turnpike. I don't think I'm ever very inclined to forget about these kinds of things, but I would just like to note here that I do keep them in mind every day, and I appreciate them.

Rolled home to the tunes of Sympathy for the Devil and All Blues (which happened to come up just as I was revisiting the Maude's meeting), and watched a soldier in BDUs and beret (maybe on his way back from Blanding!) get out of his car and walk back to the scene of a minor accident looking all tall and smart and hard-core. If I hadn't been going 85 miles an hour I might have had time to get really jealous.

Lost my voice and exercised my thumbs as I shrieked and bellowed and texted like a maniac during the national championship. I loved that my mom enjoyed sitting with us, singing the appropriate third-quarter and end-of-game songs (accompanied by my phone's Real Player, no less), almost as much as I loved the fact that on Tuesday morning the Palm Beach Post reported on a "Gator Raid" and College Gameday had to talk about the "chomp-ionship."

Landed early at JFK and heard the flight attendant with the best and most appropriate accent tell us "Welcome to New Yoo-awk."

Spent most of Wednesday actually working. Professor Alpha was in for the day, and had me do some very interesting filing, a petty cash retrieval run, and an as-he-wrote-it editing job for an email spawned from the course-related conversation we had over the lunch he bought for us. I don't know what to add here, because I've said it all before: I can't believe this academic life is a job, and I can't believe how awesome the people involved - at least for the moment - are.