27 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$2, muffin, the red place (for a change.)
$4, toasted muffin (what) and bottle of juice, Flowers.
$4, gelato, Yolatto (or whatever it's called.)

More interesting things:

Headed to the train down to my student-teachers with a funny sentence rolling around in my head, courtesy of yet another party email from someone whom I had not, technically, emailed myself but who does in fact appear on the list of people I still have to biographize: "Of COURSE you can come! We'll look forward to it. But if you actually want to come all the way in - like, through the door, so you're not limited to waving from afar - you have to bring your CV."

Enjoyed very, very thoroughly my time with the STs, despite the fact that I was also very, very tired.

Headed back in the direction of my desk (after an unusual decision to get right up to the southern edge of the park rather than walking along until the library), umbrella rolled up, notebook in hand, headphones in ears, jaywalking but not too badly until the part where I doubled back at the sound of two voices bellowing my name. Since I have been known to miss completely honks, calls, whistles, and the like from people trying to get my attention as I pass them on the street, it was pretty impressive that Professors Alpha and Number Four even entered my awareness, but I was glad they did, since they sort of bowled me over in the opposite direction, pulling me along as the "audience" for their reading party. That would be enough detail for this story, because I doubt I'll forget it, but I think the pair-ness of this pair needs to be preserved wherever I find it, so I'll add that as I yanked one ear clear and sort of smiled (goofily, I'm sure), their questions about where I was going, where I had come from, and what I was doing piled on top of each other. (This was funny, because Alpha answered both his own version of these questions as well as Number Four's at the same time I did, although my response took the form of "I was watching my student-teachers" whereas his was more like, "Yes, she was doing actual WORK today.") At any rate, I followed them very happily - they seemed in good spirits - to this little shindig, where I chatted with Professor Number One, drank some wine, listened to their snippets, and took off behind Number Four. I needed to ask him about his email list - it's fine the way it is, apparently - and then, in my opinion more importantly, whether I do in fact have an assistantship for next year. He kind of laughed, which was nice to hear, and explained (again - yeah baby) that I'd probably work with him but that it wasn't quite finalized and that, furthermore, if I did it was on the condition that "manuscripts be published, okay, now that I'm entering the fray, see?" At that, I grasped my umbrella particularly energetically and protested, but just a little - hooah for publishing, and a big, big hooah for Number Four.

26 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, muffin and some seriously burned coffee, the usual place.
$0, Pad Thai, Apple (because I'd spotted a bill earlier.)
$11, an okay omelet, Dojo (of which I am really, really not a fan.)
$9, wine, apparently made from sugarcane rather than grapes, that enormous warehousey liquor store at Astor Place.
$20ish, cabs to Anne's and then home.

More interesting things:

Kept my eyes on my computer as Professor Alpha gusted past me and into his office to meet the chickadees, mostly because he was moving so fast (he was a little late) that he didn't even say hi. This was okay, though, because a) I knew what his morning was going to look like and b) I had an excellent opportunity to laugh at the abovementioned small birds. I mean, I do that pretty frequently anyway - they are just too cool for words, which makes me giggle at them, but I would have felt the same way at that point, which makes me giggle at myself! - but in this case we should all be glad that I didn't actually snort as violently as the inner workings of my nose seemed to threaten. Anyway, I don't know what they were reading, but Alpha was all into it (of course), and made the comment that in some unusual, backwards way, the story said a lot about a certain type of feminism: fine. Then he asked the chickadees whether they agreed: yes! of course! absolutely! right on! THEN he asked where they saw it: silence! (Well, from them. From me we had, as I mentioned, very barely suppressed not-silence.) I mean, I understand that position - you're so enthusiastic not just about what you've read but about the person with whom you've read it, and it can be surprisingly easy to forget where your actual conclusive thoughts end and your questions begin. Thus the great collective "Huh?" - and, more importantly, really, a kind and accommodating scaffold thrown up instantaneously by a terrific teacher.

Sat in Professor Alpha's office waiting for... oh, for party-email-related instructions and noticed attached to a student's final project something I haven't seen in years: a paper fastener. There is a time in one's life - or at least in my life - when paper fasteners seem like a regular feature of an Earthly existence. Up to maybe first or second grade, you make paper-plate clocks, little books, and who knows what else, but by this stage of the game paper fasteners have largely gone the way of the pipe cleaner. It was nice, therefore, to see one in its natural habitat - roaming free at a school, rather than pent up in some neat little box at the office supply store - and it tells me that maybe, just maybe, it isn't only America's kindergarten teachers who are left to uphold the paper fastener industry, as I had once thought. Secondary teachers, and prospective secondary teachers, can help out too.

Kept sitting in Professor Alpha's office even after the paper fastener discovery. This was partly just because it was nice to sit in there when everyone seemed to be in a pretty good mood, and partly because I had responded to the last (very precise) party-email instruction with a question about signing up for Professor Number Five's summer course as though those two things had something to do with one another. Alpha, of course, looked at me like maybe there was something wrong in my head, so I laughed and explained that I needed to ask fast - he protested, nicely, but I explained that I really did need an answer and didn't want to let it stretch out into just some pleasant conversation. The reaction was quite cool. First he said he thought that class would be fine, then he went to town trying to figure out what else would work (conflating it with Fall and sending "a scout" upstairs for a paper version of the schedule), then he sort of growled in agreement with my comment that it was less about picking a good one and more about fitting something around my other summer stuff, and THEN he suggested an independent study. I told him I'd thought about that but didn't want to take credits for teaching, so he asked, with characteristic and amusing brusqueness, "So is that a yes or a no?" I answered that it would be fine, as long as I was actually doing something, and he said... "No, you'll do your [get ready for this, now] proposal. You sign up for the section under my name, and that's what we'll do." Yow! Awesome, first of all, and, second, when did these people go from toeing the accelerator to stomping on it? I mean, that's great - as I later learned from a lovely conversation with Professor Number One in which she suggested that J. Hardy could be the Third Man, that Alpha appears to want my proposal technically to fall under his supervision means HE IS GOING TO BE MY CHAIR. As they used to say: yesssss!

Attempted to interpret a Professor Alpha Computer Mumble, but failed, so he repeated what turned out to be the subject of some dumb email: Smart Living. I snorted in unison with him, adding that smart living is frequently so much easier than DUMB living; then I thought for another second and added further that this hadn't necessarily stopped me from doing some of the latter on a variety of occasions. And here I got a professor-snort and the same vaguely conspiratorial undertone I've heard at other instances in which he's about to sort of admit to the same issue as I've just shared: "Fff [or however you might transcribe the hmph-y exhale sounds]. You got nothin'...." "On me," was the next part of that, I suppose.

Noticed that, probably in clearing off Table Mountain and the Desk Foothills, Professor Alpha had hung on his door the copy of that kids-in-a-library poem I'd given him back at the beginning of the semester.

Sent, as I explained to Professor Number Four, a "torrent" of emails. The important part here, however, is that I also received a torrent, the vast majority of which were beamed at me in order to express their writers' a) deep excitement about coming to a prof party and b) vigorously enthusiastic plans to attend. I cannot effectively detail the fervor of my interest in forwarding these emails to the mother-fucking dean, but I probably shouldn't follow my interest in this case, so instead I'll record here - to be corroborated by the contents of a folder in my inbox - how the responses came flowing in at a rate of about one per minute for impressive chunks of time starting only about half an hour after I'd sent the invitation. These replies included a number from around the city and the Island (one of which stated in capital letters that the respondent was thankful, thankful, thankful we'd remembered her and would be there with bells on), some from New Jersey, one from Pennsylvania (that person is coming), and one from - wait for it - Colorado. That person is also coming. They cannot wait to help fund this gig. There is apparently quite a strong desire to bring presents. They are coming from all over the damn place, including out of the woodwork when it comes to people we forgot to get the first time. And who, I wonder, will be around to pile their good wishes, their gifts, their beer money, their plane tickets, and above all else, their 40 years' worth of thanks on the heads of the people engineering this great shift? I'm gonna go with: nobody.

Wandered, in a very tired but very contented mood, to the wine store before heading up to Anne's, where the lady who had talked with a store guy about an easy-to-drink wine just ahead of me informed me about her favorite wine back in Atlanta. You can see how together I was as you notice that I have not been able to recall its name for the purposes of recording it here, but still: very nice. (New Yorkers ARE Polite Campaign? Well, it might just be that she has to go in the out-of-towners section with that other one, I guess.)

25 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, oatmeal cups, Delion.
$4, fruit salad, yogurt, and D.P. (since they didn't have any small milks), the usual place.
$8, chow mein and "cow sides," according to Roey, the usual place.
$20, quesadilla and Corona, Blockhead's.

More interesting things:

Passed, on my way to the subway, a girl (well, a young woman, I guess...) in large silver rollerblades, small orange shorts, and a very small camouflage t-shirt labeled, like, "Adventures for Girls" or something. Don't ask me - even if I'd taken one of her pamphlets there's a good chance I would have nothing useful to contribute on this subject.

Got a 180 from Professor Alpha. Okay, maybe not a 180. A 165, then. Whatever. The point is, this sort of mild off-ness of late seemed to fall away after an interaction with... oh boy... Professor Sierra Two? She had come past my desk to talk to Alpha for just a second, and - recognizing me, which is lovely - did the gesture-and-announce thing wherein a person takes up a newly-informed tone of voice to acknowledge having just met someone that the third member of a party already knew well; in this case, she asked, "So I hear this is your assistant?" Alpha responded first with a smile (hooray) and then with, "She's my right-hand woman!" (quadruple hooray), to which I added that I felt quite lucky to be in that position. Sierra Two put her hands up to stop the conversation - I wonder who taught her that trick - before turning to me and explaining that just about everyone who ever works for him says the same sort of thing. I figured this gave me a good opportunity to agree by sharing what I'd written on his evaluation earlier in the day ("If I thought for one second that his 'retirement' meant I wouldn't get to talk to him again, I'D TRANSFER TO COLUMBIA.") Alpha'd been walking away as I explained my commentary, but his ears are good and he knew he needed to turn around, so I said it again, he gave a good lauch, and... that was it, I guess: cracking up cracked it open. (Or cracking up at a genuine but funny compliment cracked it open. He's not shy about such things.)

Jigged (or I would have, if I'd known how and it wouldn't have been too conspicuous) into Professor Alpha's office at the sound of the friendliest, most light-hearted verbal beckon I've gotten from him in days; he even prefaced my name with "Miss," which was pretty damn cute. We were going over the newest Jawbreaker Assignment (they last for days and if you're not careful, you'll choke) when I asked yet another admittedly disingenuous question about a party non-attendee, spurring an amusing story that I'd already heard but was more than happy to get again. Then, as Alpha got up to fetch printouts regarding some breakfast places I'd helped him locate for this thing he needs to do tomorrow, he dropped "a nice note" into my hands for my perusal. The note was MORE than nice, from one of his former (like 37 years former) students, clearly well-deserved, and I enjoyed reading it. I was also, however, spurred to ask Alpha about his views on constantly being reminded about the upcoming personnel change, a question which I clarified by explaining the only other Retirement I've ever really thought hard about. I should know by now that a real question of a semi-(?)personal nature is an outstanding way to get him to talk; I still think someone who compares ME to HIM is for the most part pleasantly delusional, but we are pretty similar insofar as our benign yet diligent nosiness is balanced by near-extreme levels of openness.

Attended as stealthily as possible to a conversation between a young, cool-dressed black man and a less young, business-dressed white woman. She was flipping past a page of one of the free dailies when he sort of stuck his finger out and said, "Oh, wait, Miss, can I...?" So she turned back and they read - together, out loud in parts - a Macy's ad describing some tattoo artist's clothing line. Or something. I didn't care much about what they were actually looking at. I did, however, care a whole lot about what I was actually looking at: New Yorkers, commuters, readers, clotheshorses, whatever - for a minute there, they were a pair, two of a kind, but I wonder how they might be described by someone who wasn't sitting next to them.

Got done smiling about these Macy's fans and got to start smiling about the girl sitting across from me with a stack of CUNY materials and a legal pad on which she was in the process of making all kinds of notes: this about City College, this about Borough of Manhattan, this about Kingsborough. I hope she figures it out soon, and I hope she's happy with her choice - realizing you've made such a big decision well is a nice feeling, as I've learned.

24 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$4, fruit salad, yogurt, and D.P., regular place.
$20, quite a good shrimp BLT, NoHo Star.
$14, burger and shake (what a surprise, given that it was at...), Johnny Rockets.

More interesting things:

Enjoyed a slightly weird lunch with Professor Alpha, whose interest in a burger rather than salad propelled him in the direction of Bleecker Street. First of all, as we were leaving, some weird lady greeted him enthusiastically, asking whether we (me and the girl behind Alpha) were his daughters; in an entirely un-thrilled tone of voice he corrected her. A few minutes later - once he'd managed to extract himself - he informed me that "That was R.G., who I was trying to get you in touch with." Only problem... it wasn't actually me. It was Marisa. I couldn't very well let that kind of thing fly by, although I have no doubt that my faithful (and thus weird but much appreciated) readers will be able to predict the response to my protest: turkey noises. Second, once our halting trail of little conversation chunks had taken us all the way to our chairs at the restaurant, Alpha kept, like, looking over my shoulder. Perhaps I should just have found this amusing - it was warm, and the shorts were short - but you'd kind of think that would have put him in a better mood than the one he appeared to be in, so I wasn't really getting any benefit from it. Regardless (and this is really the important part), it was nice to hang out with him, nice to deviate momentarily from the lettuce regime, and I'm not complaining.

Returned from the copy machine to find that Professor Alpha had also returned - from the usual lunch place with our coffees ("It's hot today, so I decided you were having iced coffee," which worked out fine for me) and a piece of cake to share (I don't remember what comment he supplied then, but I'm sure there was one as he pulled a chunk off for me. Oh, wait - I think it may have been one of those quiet but amusing assertions, as in, "Here, you'll have some cake." What would he have done if he hadn't converted?)

Walked to meet Anne and Co. in the park. This involved coming up behind Mr. Garibaldi and passing him, very slowly, on his left, as I tried to determine whether that was a bronze bird, a very quiet real bird, or - as it turned out - a stuffed bird perched up on his shoulder. This goes firmly down in the books with the floating Chinese food box, the 2001 obelisk, and Lafayette's ladybug umbrella: someone not only had to climb up there but to manage to locate both a particularly fine inanimate crow and a good way to stick said crow to the statue. This is deeply impressive stuff, you know.

23 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, usual egg-white breakfast, usual egg-white place.
$8, usual salad lunch, usual salad place (which is, of course, the egg-white place until 11am.)
$30, a cool Greek dinner, Gus's Place.

More interesting things:

Got an East Rockaway waft as I sat up and considered climbing out of my bed this morning. I really do not get it - what property of an open window causes air coming through it to smell like that, when air at nose-height from the ground rarely or never does? Is it a wind scent? A metal-windowframe scent? (That actually might not surprise me, but there's no screen on my current window to make the metal smell so strong.) Is it the contrast between fresh air and the relative staleness of apartment air, inevitable no matter how spotless you keep things? I'm trying to think if I got it in Florida, and I actually think the answer is yes; the reason it took me so long to figure that out, of course, is that one very rarely keeps windows open down there (and when you do it often has a lot to do with the same thing that causes the fresh scent to be far outweighted by the lovely aroma of a droopily - and involuntarily - un-air-conditioned house.) I don't know. But whatever it is, I hope it keeps coming.

Puzzled just a bit over a question Professor Number Four posed between the time I announced that I'd stopped by because I missed him and the second when the phone rang and Professor Number Three showed up - he wanted to know about my schedule after May 4. When I told him (accompanied, I'm sure, by a facial expression meant to indicate that I didn't quite get his point) about the class I'm teaching and those I want to take, he clarified (maybe), "No, I mean in June," before being saved by the bell. So now, of course, I'd really, really like to know: what's with June? The nice thing here, though, is that if I can't yet know what's with June, contemplating the thought that there is some kind of (interesting, as I imagine it) plan is a good and amusing second option.

22 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$23, groceries (really yogurt, fruit, and plastic cups to eat it out of), Gristede's.
$12 (or so), two cabs - one to Marisa's and one back.

More interesting things:

Kept iTunes running in the background while attempting to get some work done, and in the process was reminded of the time the song "Bright Lights" by Matchbox 20 came on just as I was a) attempting to make The Big School Decision and b) driving past Spyglass, The Old Elm Pit. It turns out that the bright lights do seem to have received me, but someday I'm still gonna turn myself around and come on home. (Unfortunately, the band has not composed a plan for what to do when you have more than one home and the city of bright lights is among them. Maybe I should write that one.)

Enjoyed a needle-toothed visit to Marisa's, where she let us goof around with her puppy and cooked such a nice dinner that it made me feel old: am I really at a point in life where (even if it's not me we're talking about) my friends have real apartments with real stoves and real plans for the actual cooking of dinner and that, furthermore, while eating said dinner we discuss things like tax abatements? Amazing but true, and all the more enjoyable because at other moments, in venues both similar and different, we also scarf down pizza and talk about our teachers. I don't think I could ask for more at the moment.

21 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$kind of a lot (well, 270), a thoroughly excellent massage and hair thing, Bliss.
$60, dinner and beverages (and now I'm done paying people back), Jack Russell's.

More interesting things:

Picked up a New Yorker - the "Journeys" issue - as I waited for my spa person to come along, and found that the very first person featured in an excellent article about commuting had a remarkably familiar name.

Decided that someday, when I'm completely remodeling a bathroom in my own house, I will have a) floor tile that makes it look like you're standing in some nice fluffy grass, b) clear aqua-tinged glass tiles laid over white backing (stucco or something) that make it look like you're surrounded by nothing but air, c) off-set lighting so you can't tell it's not the sun, and d) a huge, flat showerhead aimed straight down so you can stand under your own personal raincloud. It was, by far, the absolute coolest shower I have ever seen, much less used.

20 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, yogurt, banana, and accidentally-lime D.P.
$8, usual lunch, usual place.
$20, burrito and a Corona with lime (I forgot how good they were), Blockhead's (duh.)

More interesting things:

Noticed that leaves are really popping, and if not leaves, then buds. Wicked cool.

Rode the school train home. Probably if I hadn't had my iPod, the herd of squawky and highly caffeinated (Starbucks cups for everyone!) thirteen-year-old girls would have been shrill and goofy enough to irritate me; instead, they just made me - and the lady next to me - smile.

19 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, peanut butter bagel, usual place.
$7, sandwich and D.P., usual place.
$20 (I think), pizza and so on, Piola (which was quite good.)

More interesting things:

Asked, with a totally unsuspecting and innocent approach, whether Professor Alpha had a Sharpie I could borrow for labeling the picture CDs from yesterday, and got the thickest, most pointed laugh - it can really only be described as a "guffaw" - I've heard yet, accompanied by the lines, "Do I have a Sharpie in my office. [It was not a question that time.] A Sharpie. Snort, snort. WHAT...." Here, clearly, I needed to interrupt and yelp about why he was making fun of me; in a voice that was as thick and pointed as his laugh, he answered that no, he was making fun of himSELF, so on and so forth, an assertion which lost a lot of its persuasive power when he provided his own drawer-rifling accompaniment of "Snort, snort... a Sharpie... snort." Har.

Sat at Professor Alpha's speech at the far end of one of the U's I'd crafted in tables and chairs, so that I would be out of the way of people climbing in and could easily stand if I had to give up my spot. My distance from the door, though, meant that my nearest neighbor ended up being a chair away, and for awhile before that two chairs, which may have been what inspired Professor Number Five to get up from her place in the middle, squeeze over to me, announce that I looked like I needed a hug, and proceed to provide me with a very firm one, which of course I appreciated quite a lot: partly because it's always nice to get a hug, but partly because it cracked me up.

Noticed, as I walked to class, a car with a PBC plate. The driver was actually sitting in it, and I thought seriously about talking to her, but then I decided that might be a little too weird and opted to keep moving.

Announced for the benefit of the fast-moving Professor Alpha (he had a bunch of student appointments scheduled, I think) that my classmate had had a baby boy, to which he responded (loudly, and as he flounced down the hall past people's offices, in which they may even have been trying to do some work), "That's great! Everybody's okay? Ten fingers, ten toes, little pecker, the whole thing?" Of course, I bust out laughing, but controlled it well enough to respond in only a mildly strangled-sounding voice that I figured everything was okay; whether for purposes of prolonging the pecker conversation or because he actually didn't hear he bellowed a "what?" back, followed quickly by the observation - which he'd turned back momentarily to deliver - that "you know, that's very important in that culture!" You know what else is very important in that culture? OY!

18 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, peanut butter bagel breakfast, the usual place.
$0, since the peanut butter bagel breakfast turned into a peanut butter bagel lunch.
$14 (or something), Cuban food, the Chelsea Cuban place.
$20, cab back uptown.

More interesting things:

Felt a little slimy at the not-really-retirement party for, oh, all of my people. Standing around near the entryway was kind of fun, as it gave several amusing people a chance to harass me (which I do appreciate), and I got to listen to all kinds of mostly very mundane but still smile-inducing conversations, and it turned out that taking pictures really WAS a great cover - I didn't feel conspicuous at all - but... ew. Here in this elegant fireplace-white-tablecloth-and-purple-leather-bar-stool dining room, these people are going on and on about the service and the scholarship and the teaching and the "caring" (as in, "these are the most caring teachers in the school... in the country... in the WORLD!"), all the while slithering right past the fact that this was NOT, except for maybe ONE person, a genuine RETIREMENT celebration. Normally this would all serve as a fine reason to close with a snarl. But that will have to wait until after I'm done gagging.

Talked, for the first time in a long time, with Professor Number Three. (It's been so long that I had to stop and think about what number this person gets.) Anyway, she asked about the P.V., I told her I thought we might have hooked her, and Number Three laughed and said, "I knew if we put her with you that we'd have a good chance!" A very nice compliment; even if I'm not quite sure of its exact provenance, it seems like it probably indicates something positive!

Ended the day - apparently - with a "good conv." I don't know exactly what that meant, other than that it may have been intended to note a contrast between whatever was said (by Professor Alpha, that much I'm sure of...) and his overall demeanor the last couple of days. So that's nice.

17 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

I don't know; it was a long, long, LONG day, and I didn't keep track.

More interesting things:

Defaulted, sort of, to this pub on Macdougal, which turned out to be pretty good, although in the absence of decent cider (they had only Magner's - yecch) I resorted to Smirnoff Ice, which is so wimpy it's the official beverage of people who are just cutting their liquor-teeth. Anyway, to go with my wimp-drink (and much tougher, presumably), two horse cops sauntered by. (And before you think I need to make that last clause a little more specific, let me reword it: "...two horse cops sauntered by, blue-helmeted riders on top." I love it.)

Led the P.V.'s friend back to Penn Station, where she commented on how it seems like "this is just your neighborhood" (awesome) and that we should "take good care of [the P.V.]!" (yes!) All of this puffed my energy up enough that I was as able to enjoy barrelling through the station as much as I usually do, and that's saying something, since I was approaching near-record levels of weariness at that point.

16 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$4, I could guess, for breakfast, usual place.
$0, since Professor Alpha generously took me and the P.V. (Prospective Violet) to lunch, Apple.
$60, my own dinner and part of Anne's (since I owed her), Otto.

More interesting things:

Sat at my desk chatting with the P.V. when Professor Alpha arrived. In blowing past Professor Charlie's office, he stopped and made some reference to "not really retiring," to which I didn't attend much, since I figured it was just another goofy comment. Later on, though, at lunch, he said it again, and in a fairly serious tone of voice, so this time I interrupted and asked, as I positioned my ear right in front of him, what exactly he was talking about. The P.V. laughed and explained that I was waiting for his commitment, which caused him to laugh also and then add (whacking me in the arm), "Oh, she already knows I'm not going anywhere, I have to stay around to help her," so on and so forth. I interjected with a "YEAH," and in an aside (such as they are for the great growly-man) finished, "Uh, you're going to be helping me too... this is a two-way street here." So, question/hee! point #1: WHAT exactly did that mean? Because whatever it is, I am ready. Anyway, then Alpha actually got to continue with his point, something about a district job near where he lives now, which would be quite cool. Hee! point #2: if he gets that position, he REALLY can't go too far... praise be.

Typed "conversation" into my notes, apparently, and I'm sure there was a good reason, but whatever it was... that's what I get for being a slacker.

Remembered what that meant (duh, and it took me until the 20th.) Anyway, the reason I made a note of "conversation" was that - not that I can quite recall how it came up - as we were putting on our coats to leave lunch, Professor Alpha mentioned that "what I like about you [meaning me] is that you like to be part of the conversation." As I say, I can't think of exactly what spurred the comment, but I do know that the more general background was his (long, but interesting) explanation of the standards "debacle," as he calls it.

Enjoyed a really lovely dinner at Otto, including the part where my outstanding leadership skills inspired not one, not two, but THREE tables around us to follow in my knock-your-water-glass-across-the-table activities.

14-15 Apr 07

Time:

As should be clear from my notation of the date above, I have no idea.

Money:

Ditto.

More interesting things:

Went... well, I know went to a few places: to Anne's (where we ate Cuban, so that's something), to Molly Pitcher's (where I drank girly drinks and spent nothing because poor, unsuspecting Roey had already started a tab on his card, but I'm paying him back, of course), and to a diner (where I had pancakes and a nice conversation with a prospective Violet.)

13 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

?

More interesting things:

Watched a little girl tag along behind her mom - probably one of those Washington Arch hide-and-seek kids - with a deli bag in her hand, moving as fast as all the grown-ups around her.

Crossed the street at Astor Place and noticed that someone had put black tape over parts of the walk/don't walk light so that when the don't walk sign flashed, it looked like the sign was giving pedestrians the finger.

12 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

? again, but - again - I could guess: 4 for breakfast at the usual place, 8 for lunch at the usual place, and another 20 for Blockhead's (with my lovely roommate Ben, which makes it priceless, of course.)

More interesting things:

Slogged through the rain. It went from "slogging" to the much happier "dodging," though, when as I stood waiting damply for the subway first the alma mater and then the fight song came on. This is generally enough to make me smile in any case, especially because they're not one song - my iPod picked one after the other out of 1500 possibilities - but that day in particular because after a second I thought of who was playing: The Pride of the Sunshine.

Enjoyed my phone conversation with Professor Alpha, of course, and got his outline squared away pretty easily. He laughed at me when he first answered the phone, though; he said he'd been getting worried that I might have fallen off a cliff, but rather than explain that I had had to finish chewing my egg sandwich, I chose a more dignified response (I don't remember exactly what I said, but it didn't matter, because it made him laugh more.) Then at some point he called me "a good woman," prompting my usual response of, "Well, what can I tell you?", sparking in turn another good belly laugh and "...ha ha ha... you don't have to tell me anything!... ha ha ha...." It was funny - ha-ha funny, of course, but also weird-funny - because it made me think of how it felt to talk to Dr. B. on the phone, and that now I'm as comfortable with him and all my other professors as he probably thought I should have been then. Is that a function of being older now? Or more, I think, because the professors here did such a thorough job of inculcating that sense....

11 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

?, but I can estimate: 4 for breakfast at the usual place, 8 for lunch at the usual place, and I think about 20 at Blockhead's.

More interesting things:

Sat at my desk and hopped to the right a bit in order to make a spot for Professor Alpha, who determined that looking at my EVER enjoyable disposition of graduates handout would be easier if he came and parked by me rather than vice versa. That was more than okay as far as I was concerned, since sitting so close lent a conspiratorial air to the whole thing that enabled him a) to make easy-going fun of someone we know and b) to laugh about his joke with his head on my shoulder. Hee.

Talked, for some reason or another - oh, yeah, we were going to discuss it in class that day - about my candidacy paper with Professor Alpha. He had positive and, as he put it, "not earth-shaking" things to say about it, but as he handed me the copy he'd scratched on, he commented that the part describing a kid who couldn't quote might have had a basis in my own experience, since "these are ALL identity papers, aren't they?" Well, yes, to an extent. Not so much because I was reluctant to do it, but because nobody ever taught me effectively HOW to do it. So I'm gonna fix that for future use, okay?

Reminded Professor Alpha that the Utah Kid is headed this way pretty soon, so he suggested that the three of us get lunch together on Monday and then that I was a good choice for host. I agreed with him - because I did in fact come to that conclusion on my own, earlier in the week! - but then I realized that although I knew why I thought that, it would be interesting to find out how he'd come up with it. He offered the same comments about "taking a big jump" that I'd made in my head, but it was nice to hear the confirmation.

Got foiled again by the nippers, this time in a way that prevented me from Going. To. Professor. Alpha's. House! UNacceptable, Nippers, unacceptable! He announced that he wasn't coming in on Thursday so he could stay home and work and that he'd need to "chat" with me, so I reminded him that I would be around all day except for class in the middle of the afternoon, which prompted him to explain: "Yes, I remember your class - I was actually going to invite you up to my house so we could work there, but it would be hard for you to get back in time." Snarl, snarl, and growl: take that, you unsuspecting (and wrongfully, but satisfyingly, blamed) undergraduates.

Stood by as Anne thanked Professor Alpha for his "words of wisdom." When I repeated this phrase disbelievingly, he nodded at me from under his eyebrows, gave me the hand, and mouthed the words, "Oh yes, very high level." Needless to say, this was an easy setup: I asked when I would get to benefit from some of that wisdom, he growled that I get it constantly, and I was able to come back with, "Oh, that's what we're calling it these days?", scoring a laugh from both the other inhabitants of the social corner.

Walked back to my apartment past a Swiss Mountain Dog - not a Bernese - and his person. I think I've seen one before, but I also think I didn't record it, so let it go down in the books that I have collected the second of the four-part Alpine series.

Checked the mail, both as it appeared in our box (where the stuff usually does belong to us) and as it appeared on the shelf (where it usually does not, particularly when whatever I'm nosing at isn't right under our slot). It was good that I did check, though, because the little white box in the unlikely spot on the shelf had my name - and the name of the Big Paper - on it. Inside: a white mug, labeled on one side "Metropolitan Diary" and on the other "The Metro Section," all in the official typeface. Totally unexpected, and much appreciated.

10 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$4, egg whites, D.P., and water, usual place.
$8, usual lunch, usual place.
$3, coffee for the usual suspects (since this time it was my idea), usual place.
$10, a small bottle (glory, glory) of that claret I'm so fond of, wine store by my house.

More interesting things:

Watched, somewhat bizarrely but with great enjoyment, an episode of the Simpsons which the lovely Ben had managed to identify and locate for me before I could even quite finish explaining why I wanted it. Professor Alpha thoroughly appreciated it, and I have to say that I did as well: it was hilarious, and as I have learned is in fact characteristic of the series, very, very intelligent. Maybe more intelligent than getting an hour's pay for watching TV. But I'm not going to argue.

Attended to an interruption of this television-watching when, to add to the bit about Mr. Glasscock, Professor Alpha informed me about a sex research article in the Times which included a scientist named "Breedlove"; a couple minutes later he pointed out the particular brilliance of the show's describing a motel-visiting mayor as "polling the electorate," which was, of course, exactly what I'd been thinking and figured he wouldn't say. A) I should know better and B) ha!

Listened to what seemed to start off as one of those barely-out-loud musings Professor Alpha has sometimes. These are usually interesting for one reason or another, but today it was particularly... well, I can sum it up as "nice," for the moment. It wasn't long before instead of sort of growling towards his computer he'd actually turned around and started speaking in a (relatively) normal volume directly to me, and I was glad I didn't have to strain to catch what he said. For quite a long time - longer than this type of commentary generally lasts - Alpha mulled over how glad he was, and how unusual it was, that the four of us are such good friends. He spoke fairly specifically about how that's not always the case, that people get competitive or work in other places or whatever, and that not only in our friendship had we "given a home" to people who otherwise might not have had one but also that we had turned into "great colleagues." He said he had watched us in the Monday class, and that he thought part of the reason it had gone so well was that people could build on how we spoke to each other. This was one of the nicest - see, I picked that word up there in order to be precise, not vague as it often indicates - compliments I'd ever heard, and as Anne later pointed out, also a little sad: Alpha's getting nostalgic!

9 Apr 07

Time:

Plane landed at 830, at my desk (with breakfast in hand) at 1013. That's kind of a long time.

Money:

$6, oatmeal, D.P., and water, the usual place.
$8, usual lunch, the usual place.
$0 (Professor Alpha bought, I fetched), coffee, the usual place.
$9, some decent sesame noodles, Dojo.

More interesting things:

Stood at Jamaica waiting for a train into the city and felt like I was standing in a slot at the bottom of the Plinko board. You could see trains coming up in the distance, and they looked like they were headed right toward you, but you could also see the sneaky tangle of tracks woven between the station and that headlight like pins between a California college kid and ten thousand dollars. Only one train slid up to a platform that wasn't mine before I got to park myself in Penn Station-bound warmth, though, so that wasn't too bad.

Gave directions to slightly lost "admissions guests" twice; I think my conspicuously purple sweatshirt counteracted the effect the headphones I was wearing on one of those occasions normally have.

Made Professor Alpha laugh, for real. Before he'd gotten as far as my Skinner comment, which was what did it, he had commented that I "was on a roll on that plane" I guess because of my subject lines. I sort of smiled and responded that I didn't know if anyone else found my writing funny, but that I found it amusing, so that was something at least. And then a few seconds later: a genuine belly laugh that caused him to put my paper down - right there, an accomplished afternoon.

8 Apr 07

Time:

Rather a lot, between our house and the cousins', but amazingly everyone was getting along pretty well and the ride was actually fun.

Money:

$0. What would I have spent it on? I didn't go anywhere until we all took off together.

More interesting things:

Enjoyed a pretty chill (and therefore boring at times, but not horribly so) Easter with most of my cousins (and my mom and sisters, of course.) There was a fair amount of discussion about why it wasn't ALL of my cousins, and eventually - like when we were on our way home - it was concluded that half of the missing pair is embarrassed or something. Bummer for them, because the baklava was GREAT.

7 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

? I think there was Outback involved - yep, that was the day - but Sister worked off part of her debt for the birthday presents by getting the check.

More interesting things:

Passed, at some point that I can't quite remember now, a car with a license plate that said Florida and a license plate holder that said Port - Roslyn, NY. Ha!

6 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$87.50, half of Ma’s haircut and highlights, Regis.
$50, wicked cool plaid un-shoelaced Converse, Journeys.
$34, on-sale (and boot-cut, Anne!) Levi’s, Sears.

More interesting things:

Hit Panera with Sister for a cookie and some internet. On the way in, a guy in one of those bright blue Gator shirts passed the truck with an appreciative inspection of the relevant decals; our “Go Gators!” was answered with a smile and “Isn’t it a great feeling?” Damn skippy, son!

Enjoyed a nice Ma's-birthday. Happy birthday, little Ma!

5 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$3, egg-white sandwich and D.P., the usual place.
$0 (for reasons that will be explained momentarily), lunch, the usual place.
$21, shuttle to JFK.
$8 (I think?), pizza, soda, and bottle of water, that ridiculous (but, as I learned, decent) Italian place in the airport.
$2, Halvah, airport shop.

More interesting things:

Got to my desk early, since I had to meet Professor Number Six first thing and knew Professor Alpha had big typing plans for me later on in the day, which enabled me to overhear Professor Abercrombie’s morning phone call. These calls frequently make me smile, because he’s clearly a really nice dad/husband/friend/whatever, but this morning’s made me laugh out loud: he announced to whoever was on the other end – I think it was his daughter – that although we had moved from no. 11 to no. 14 on the ed list, it could not be argued that we are anything but no. 1 as far as schools of culture, education, and human development go. Spot on, sir, spot on.

Enjoyed a hilarious-as-usual conversation during my meeting with Professor Number Six, which began with him forgetting he had a meeting to start with. Among other things, we discussed the classroom “dividing line” (and, consequently, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this” along with a zipped-lip motion), his appreciation for spending time with “smart people” (to which I responded with false modesty I identified just a second later as false, causing him to laugh again), and my interest in the chart on his wall (which led to me observing that he would more likely get another boat before I got my first one, and, in turn, his invitation to be the first mate. Ha.) I also told him about my word game/logic model thing and that I was predicting what he would say next during class the other day, and then I got out of there so he could get on with his day. He, at least, is not going anywhere that I know of, and I am really, really glad.

Caught a quick (and ever encouraging) smile from Professor Alpha-and-a-Half as she darted onto our floor and into the ladies’, so I announced in passing Miss J. that it was so nice to see Alpha-and-a-Half around so much more frequently. She responded to this a little more excitedly than I thought – I guess she’d been looking for her – and asked me to wait so she wouldn’t miss Alpha-and-a-Half while she got some water. A.5 (that’s how I’m going to start abbreviating this one, since she IS around these days!) came out before Miss J. got back, so I put my hands up and said that I was on guard duty and it was my job not to let her escape before the secretary returned. She smiled again and agreed to hang out for a sec; when Miss J. returned I first called her attention to the good professor-catching job I’d done and then added that A.5 had been very cooperative and I’d be glad to baby-sit again any time, which rated not just a smile but a good laugh from the sittee – something I like to hear.

Typed like a maniac another “insta-speech,” as Professor Alpha described it. It was six pages long, much of which came out of his mouth at a higher rate of speed than it could come out of my fingers, but we kept it together pretty well and were proofing it by the time we were ready for lunch. The part that was a nice surprise came when I was fixing up the Word version according to our margin comments and Alpha asked what I took on my salad, so I told him and then thanked him, of course; his response was that it was the least he could do since I was “working [my] ass off.” For a millisecond I contemplating disagreeing with him and mentioning that in fact the whole tuition-and-stipend thing was probably enough, but since I’m quite sure this would have resulted in the yeah-yeah turkey noises, I opted not to – I just ate my lunch.

Read with a did-they-think-about-what-they-were-writing? snort a big banner advertising Southwest in the airport I landed at. It said, “From takeoff to touchdown, we get you there.” Now here’s my question, of course: is this supposed to represent a major departure from what they think other airlines do? I mean, I’m irritated with JetBlue at the moment, but I’m never worried that they’ll decide they’ve had enough of me when we’re 30,000 feet over Virginia and go on to “touchdown” without me…. Duh!

4 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$a lot. This was the breakfast, lunch, Teuscher, Borders, Gap, Levi's, cab, dinner day, but worth it all, I think.

More interesting things:

Sat across from a dad and a little girl who so much reminded me of my own three-year-old days that watching them wasn't enough and I had to turn off my iPod so I could also listen to them. Dad was trying to balance the Wall Street Journal and Kid (maybe about five), who was in turn trying to balance herself and her stuffed dalmatian on Dad's lap. Dad was being pretty considerate about it - he didn't ignore the fact that Kid was sort of slipping off - and this combined with the fact that Kid appeared to be commenting on what she saw in the newspaper is what made me pay closer attention. The first thing I heard: Kid points to a line in the paper and asks, "Don't they make chocolate?"; Dad responds, "Yes, chocolate, Jolly Ranchers, and Altoids, I think - you know, those little mints?"; Kid gives a thoughtful nod and makes sure the dalmatian can read along too. The second thing: Dad asks, "So, what do you think Mommy is doing right now?"; Kid ponders for a moment before answering, "Mommy is lying around with Alex. [Thinks a little more.] I think they have a play date today." The third thing: Dad says, "So, what are you going to do later? Make some important phone calls?" [It's clear from the way he phrases it that this is something Kid herself has come up with in the past.]; Kid wrinkles her nose and comes back with something about Grandma and Grandpa but that she really doesn't like the speaker phone. By the time we got to Grand Central, where Dad sort of hoisted Kid up by the waist and waddled off the train, I was thoroughly lost in my OWN pondering about how similar this seemed to events I'm familiar with, and how that is yet another New York rugrat who probably won't have to worry about her SAT score.

Got one of those brilliant smiles from Professor Alpha-and-a-Half in an sighting that - thankfully - seems to be becoming more and more common. She was dodging her way into the packed meeting room, where she'd be presenting in a few minutes, and once again I had cause to be so, so grateful (and still a little pleasantly bewildered) that these people attend to their "doc stu's": they got to know us before they got to meet us, and for whatever friendly and welcoming reason, they have maintained that interest right along.

Turned a little red when during his presentation Professor Number Six noted for my benefit and the benefit of anyone else who was listening reasonably closely (he didn't say it all that loud, thankfully, although it was in usual emphatic manner) that there were some "discontinuities" between scores on his Rubric, and that “some of my students noted this in their papers – you did,” with the last part eyebrow-crunched at me.

Laughed as quietly as possible with Anne and Marisa at the sight to behold on the far side of the room. Professor Alpha (all hail his triumphant return…) had parked himself, not surprisingly, next to Professor Number Four; what with all the goofy smiles and the paper-sharing and the poking and the peering at what he was writing which positioned Alpha’s head nearly at rest on Number Four’s shoulder, we should have invited a Justice of the Peace.

Thought for a minute about the very new (and therefore still kind of weird) but much appreciated dynamic involved when your teachers are also your mentors in your quest to go right up to their level. I mean, when you’re in ninth grade, your math teacher is not trying to turn you into another math teacher: you’re not grown and you don’t necessarily care about math, but even if you do it’s going to be awhile and you’ll probably change your mind before you get that far. This is, I think, what caused ol’ JVL to look at me kind of funny when I told him about my plan, and why there was always a note of “we’ll see…” in Dr. P.’s responses to the same announcement, and why it was so nice that Dr. B. didn’t do either of those things. Here, however, these are professors, and I want to be a professor, and at this point I think they pretty much believe me, which they constantly prove in the way they treat us. For all my pondering of my favorite cliff-climbing metaphor, I never really thought it would happen to such a great extent. Pretty freakin’ cool.

Laughed again when Professor Number Six assured us students of his that he would “even give [us] a citation” if he used what we’d put in our papers. This is the honest way to handle it, of course, but I don’t think everyone plays that way and the generosity is really lovely.

Realized why – get ready for the groupie factor, folks! – I think Professor Alpha’s hair is actually more punk kept short than it would have seemed in a ponytail: he does that thing I like where you cut hair and beard all the same length. Very cool.

Got invited to Professor Alpha’s speech tomorrow; we figured out pretty quickly that I probably would not be able to go (what with all that pesky teaching stuff getting in the way…) but even the thought that I almost got to hang with him for several hours straight, including on a train – which I love anyway – and in his car – prime opportunity for the gathering of more useless but nosy information, is quite feckin’ cool. Frustrating, too. But cool.

Waited somewhat patiently with Anne to drop a large sum of money on well-traveled chocolate behind a blonde lady who opened her commentary by announcing that the pilots would really appreciate some candy. The guy behind the counter was clearly confused; I think he was trying to figure out how she was going to get through the locked metal door with the big blue “NOT ALLOWED” signs on it to hand out some truffles when she put an end to his brain strain by adding fake-matter-of-factly that it was a private plane. A few seconds later, she supplemented her explanation of the candy choices she’d made by explaining that she wasn’t sure the Easter Bunny would be able to find them “in Cabo.” If I could have thought any faster, I would have done what my mom later suggested and responded with, “Oh, he can always find you – he managed to get to us when we were in Venice last year!”, but I’m sure you’ll excuse me for being a little dumbstruck.

Closed our Night of Rained-On But Largely Victorious Schlepping by consuming a Cuban sandwich with black beans at Anne’s apartment. I was wiped out, but it was a nice relaxing close to our hours-long and – almost exclusively thanks to Anne – largely successful shopping venture. We didn’t make it to the coffee house (next time!), but we had fun.

3 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$who knows, I'm a total blogging SLACKER.

More interesting things:

Sat on the subway with a good view of the back page of someone's New York Post, where it announced (damn straight!) "CHOMPS AGAIN." Ha!

Turned a little reluctantly away from that glorious sight and saw a guy to my left with the pole in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other. This was interesting because - and I checked three times for a mundane explanation - the bag appeared to have originated in Kathmandu. It was for a clothing store called "UFO" (don't ask me), and the three or four locations listed near the bottom of the bag were all to be found in Nepal. No mention of New York or even New Delhi anywhere to be found: a pretty well-traveled piece of disposable plastic!

Looked up from my iPod once again on my trip downtown (the train was just hopping with interesting things to look at for some reason) to see a guy holding two pieces of his dry-cleaning in front of him. At first the back of the clothing was what faced me, and all I could tell was that it looked like chef's whites; then the holder turned them around and I could see where they were emblazoned with "Brasserie Les Halles" on the upper left breast. I shared the commute with someone who works for Tony "The Pompous One" Bourdain and lived to see it another day - very impressive.

Went to grab the usual egg-white sandwich at what has become not just "the usual lunch place" but plain old "the usual place" and engaged in a short conversation with the lady running the cash register. It's been clear for awhile now that she recognizes me; when I yanked off my second earphone to better understand the question she seemed to be posing as I paid for my breakfast, I learned that she recognizes Professor Alpha, too: after a couple of false starts, she asked where and who "the old man you come in with" was. I'm proud to say that it only took me a second to compose myself into an answer, and as much as I would have liked it to the response did NOT consist of, "Oh yeah, that's my sugar daddy."

Wafted past Professor Number Seven's closed door with a "good morning" hand raised, since I had caught her eye, to which she responded with a "come in here" wave. Annette and another professor (one of the rubric people, who, as it happened, was the other person in Professor Number Six's office on that fateful first day of our acquaintance) were in there with Number Seven, who announced that they had purposefully held on to what looked like a dissertation so that I could take a look. Annette flipped it open to the first page, and... Glamour Shot! Now who, I would like to know, sticks a fluffed-up photo of themselves in with what's supposed to be research on education? I shared this thought in a slightly modified form - I think I asked whether that was a special dissertation Glamour Shot or something we thought she'd had sitting around beforehand - which got a good laugh before being told that Number Seven had a) dropped herself from this candidate's committee and b) planned to shred it now that I'd gotten to see it. Hey, Annette - thanks for holding on to it for me... we always want to know what we should be doing, of course, but fine examples of what not to do are great fun too!

Sat in my class watching busy undergrads make their way through their end-of-semester project and, consequently, had enough attention to spare for my buzzing phone. I expected it to be someone I'm related to, but it turned out to be... Professor Alpha! I thought he might have some pressing comment, and they were working, so I went ahead and answered what turned out to be a very nice "just saying hello." Hee! (And since that "hee" was directed at the joy of a phone call, I'll go ahead and add another one here to be directed at my breathtaking nerdiness: hee!)

2 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$5, muffin, water, and D.P. (lime, which was not what I meant to do - a subconscious consideration of Professor Alpha, I guess!), lunch place.
$too much (and they're even being assholes about the voucher), ticket home for Easter etc., JetBlue.
$8, pasta salad and soup, lunch place.
$11, D.P. (the right kind) and water, Gristede's.

More interesting things:

Realized as I got ready to leave my house that if I stood in one specific square foot of my room, Essence of East Rockaway House drifted past my nose. If I moved, it disappeared, but if I got closer to the floor, it got stronger, and finally I decided it must have been carrying in through the window. Wherever it came from, though, it was not something I'd experienced before (here, I mean), which makes sense since of course my window is usually quite closed.

Decided that today was finally the day to write about my love for the subway jackrabbit posters. They occupy the long skinny cases which used to hold those weird but only somewhat interesting arm-hand-and-landmark-ring posters, and I have been considering for awhile why I find the new ones so appealing. My conclusions: a) the rabbit's passengers look like they're dressed for spring, which I always like, and while one of them is sitting comfortably against his tail, another is leaning casually at the trail fan ear notch; b) he's leaping past the Twin Towers, apparently on his way to the Washington Square Arch; c) you can see the paws of two of his compatriots, one on his way across the Triborough Bridge and the other over the George Washington (I think - but I should check on that); d) he's clearly smiling; e) the colors he and his surroundings are rendered in remind me of the picture books I was so enamored of in that class - bright but soft; and f) above all, I think, he's wearing a nice little racing cape decorated with all the subway (rabbit) letters, which the artist carefully made sure would stay on even after the turns coming out of Grand Central by painting in a belly strap and a neatly snapped collar and which looks both comfortable and professional. (Speaking of "professional," this entry probably makes it seem like I need to see one, but that's not it. I do really love this picture, and maybe even more I'm glad I feel well enough these days to think about that!)

Called Dr. B. (for the third time - it was his birthday on Saturday) and had, as usual, a really lovely conversation centering on academic life, basketball (particularly how Georgetown, Ohio State, UCLA, and Florida making it to the Final Four boded especially well for us), his conversation with another old friend, my freshly rediscovered "sprightliness" (hey, I wasn't feeling too hot the LAST time we talked), and his wife's trip to Rhode Island this week, which spawned its own teasing back-and-forth about who made the plans for someone's birthday weekend and, in turn, the observations that I "know [them] so well," that I'm the only one he can quite talk to this way, and, finally - this is verbatim, now - "..., I love ya!" We usually think of missing people as an unpleasant experience, and of course there have been times when that was how I felt it. But somehow I've been unbelievably fortunate, fortunate enough that I always have someone - several someones - to miss very much, and luckier still that when a conversation or an email or whatever reminds me of that feeling, it does a lot more to make me happy than to make me sad.

Checked the rabbit bridges. The big red one (being crossed, reasonably, by a rabbit, since it's not a car bridge) is the Hell Gate Bridge; the tall skinny one is the Verrazano-Narrows (which shoud be easy to remember - skinny? narrows?); and the one behind the arch with the fancy crosspieces (or whatever the proper engineering term is) is the Triborough. These are things I should know, so I'll practice.

Cited, in my paper, someone who cited someone else, and discovered tonight that the someone else cited Professors Alpha and Number Four. This morning I had a little conversation with Number Four, because... well, I don't know exactly what my question was. I knew that it had been making me feel kind of weird to see the same big names over and over again in my candidacy-related travels, and weirder yet by a long shot to think that I could ever get away with just, like, insinuating myself into their conversation uninvited. And here I find that an authority quoted by an authority quoted by an authority quoted by me is a gregarious two-headed monster who gives me books and big fuzzy hugs and who I know I can stand next to at this party. I don't remember reading about that in the literature I pored over trying to make my decision, but it should have been there.

1 Apr 07

Time:

?

Money:

$13, pancakes again (buttermilk this time, and much better), Annie's.

More interesting things:

Noticed, as I was trying to attack my paper through Google Scholar rather than the uncooperative library links, that under the Scholar search bar is the line "Stand on the shoulders of giants." I don't know what Google person came up with that (or if, in fact, they yoinked it from somewhere else), but whoever decided to put it there summed the whole game up so nicely I had to keep re-reading it.

Went on a treasure hunt for some Bartholomae: I'd cited someone who had cited someone else quoting directly from whatever it was ol' Bart. had written. Finally I chased down the piece that listed the actual original in its bibliography, which informed me that - dammit - I was in fact looking for a book, not a journal, and therefore probably not something I'd be able to get immediately. Except! I looked a little closer at the citation and found that - holy crap - it had been published in one of the first books Professor Number Four ever gave me and was, consequently, right in my living room where I could have found it back in December! Needless to say, I had to fire off an email to Number Four right away; just a little bit later, I got a really nice reply. (Check old emails for exact content.)

Went on another hunt - this one for Hillocks, and of all the places in the online world where he and his book could have been hiding, he happened to be hosted not just by my own university but by my school. Ha!

31 Mar 07

Time:

?

Money:

$11, pancakes ordered in (I'm trying to do my writing hibernation thing, dontcha know), Annie's.
$14, my favorite Francis Coppola claret, the little wine store by my house.
$10, cab to Anne's.
$30 (I think?), wings and so on, Blondie's (once they decided the cook could handle, I don't know, cooking?)
$0, cab back home, D.P., and ice cream (thanks to Ben, who was paying me back for his veggie burger), the market around the corner (well, not the cab part, but you know what I mean.)

More interesting things:

Read ALL of Schleppegrell and flagged it up. Holy crap.

BEAT the ugly Bruins to a nasty Californian pulp! Well, okay. I didn't beat them. But my very favorite basketball players did, which is good enough for me.

Enjoyed very thoroughly hanging out with all the peeps at Anne's - thanks for having us, dude!

30 Mar 07

Time:

?

Money:

$4, muffin and V8 juice, lunch place.
$5, half a scallion pancake, a big ol' dish of rice and spicy chicken, and tip, Yeah something or other in Chinatown.
$5, black sesame ice cream, Chinatown Ice Cream Factory (right next door to the Yeah place, don't you know.)
$50, a very cute Mexican dinner with Rebecca, Viva Pancho (I think.)
$4, desperately-needed bottle of water, the Pirate Queen place (I don't know its name.)
$0 (because Rebecca's cousin very nicely treated us), glass of wine, the truly wicked 30th-floor bar at the Hilton.

More interesting things:

Watched a lady sitting across from me on the train reposition a large orange dot sticker on the lid of her coffee. I'm sure its purpose was originally to indicate whether it had milk or sugar in it or something, but for me all it did was remind me of the "safety dot" we all had to wear on our watches at summer camp, causing me to laugh almost out loud (I forget about these things when I'm listening to my iPod) and then contemplate whether I was making the people around me a little nervous.

Got, in a geographical young-male-related development from my favorite college town outwards, "We Are the Boys" followed immediately by "Long-Haired Country Boy."

Realized, as I traisped through Chinatown past beak-hanging roasted ducks and completely unidentifiable vegetables thinking about the day as a whole - the car alarm that woke me up before my own alarm... my plan to dodge through SoHo on the quest for a new shirt... looking forward to dinner near Times Square, a Broadway show, and a drink with one of the musicians - that it might end up being one of the most New-Yorkish yet. (It turned out I was pretty much spot on.)

Sat listening to one of my student-teachers review a story featuring a) Chippewas and b) the Vietnam War, and in consequence really had to work to hold myself back. When everyone was wondering about feathers, though, I absolutely had to call the student-teacher over and help her out, resulting in a gracious and very enthusiastic invitation to come back and be "the visitor" (whatever that means, exactly) for this story after the break.

Walked back from the train (without a new shirt, but what are you gonna do besides look forward to shorts-shopping) behind a little girl with the most colorful set of braid clips I'd ever seen. Her head looked like one of those spring-y, spiral-y gift ribbons we're fond of at home, and it was wicked cool.

Noticed that to a large extent, the doormen have come out of hiding: Spring in New York!

Enjoyed that Mexican dinner I mentioned, featuring a fair amount of commentary about "beauties." Oy. But funny.

Enjoyed also the show that came afterwards. As Rebecca and I concluded, most musicals are over the top, and this one was up even higher, but it was really terrific and I'm glad I had the chance to go - particularly since the wine, the bar itself, and especially the musician-cousin were all so lovely in addition. (Thanks, lady!)

29 Mar 07

Time:

?

Money:

$5, some kind of muffin, I'm sure, lunch place.
$8, that new salad I'm doing, lunch place.
$8, that new salad I'm doing, but with bread this time since it was dinner, lunch place.

More interesting things:

Went to an informational meeting for this educational honor society thing, and enjoyed the whole thing less because it was about the society and more because a) when I walked in, the graduate advisor I like so much announced that I wasn't allowed, b) I sat with Roey and Marisa, who kept me laughing, c) I was able to tell the presenter about the space bar for slide changing, and d) after the admittedly pretty dreadful PowerPoint produced by the society was over, we sort of lazed up to where... oh, I'm gonna need a new name here: how about Professor Kappa, since that works on a couple of levels? anyway, we sort of lazed up to where Professor Kappa was standing so Marisa could ask her question about the population of doc students, but before we got as far as the enthusiastic encouragement that accompanied our kind-of suggestion to have a "SIG" for us, Professor Kappa took advantage of the fact that she knew two of us reasonably well and expressed her frustration with the show. Funny stuff, even though I don't quite think it was supposed to be, and I guess I don't mind forking over my 75 bucks.

Returned to the lunch place more out of a sense that neither of us was that hungry but needed to eat something, anyway, so we might as well hang with Marisa while we were at it. A good political conversation ensued, not that I had a whole lot to add.