Immediately upon entering the house, I noticed (or was noticed by?) the pack of animals that live here. Two dogs; Angus, a pit bull/dingo mix, and Adrian, who I have no clue. He's adorable, but patently ridiculous in every sense. He's small, with curly reddish brown hair, and an overbite. The two large cats are named Junior and Wilemina, and I rarely see them. Occassionally, one sneaks into my room and uses the bed, until I kick them out (I am currently not accepting animals in there.) On the other hand, are two kittens who do not actually belong to the house. They are being watched over until one of Sam's relations settles down in their home (they're relocating, or some such). One is black, with white mittens, and the other is stripped with all range from white to black. The black is named Sookie, and the other... well, the other has six toes on each paw. Noticing this, I came to the conclusion that he must be trying to evolve thumbs, and therefore, is attempting in the long run to be come a Thundercat. (In case you're not aware, the Thundercats were a popular anime in the late 80s/early 90s, involving humanoid felines with creatives names like"Lion-o", "Panthro", "Cheetara", and "Tigra.") So, I addressed this kitten as Thundercat, and eventually it suck. Thundercat is my little buddy, and Steph has trained him to climb up your body when you say "HOOOOO!" (another reference to the cartoon.)
For the first two nights in the new place, I slept on the couch. With Sam's surgery and all the rest, the basement is not near ready, and the upstairs room was still in the process of being cleared out. Not that I minded at all; I have come into this with the interest of a transition into independence, to developing a routine that involves keeping my space clean and generally taking pride in everything I do. If that means doing things from the ground up, than perhaps its all in the best interest of forming good habits. On the first full day here, we cleaned out the room that would become my bedroom, and began looking for beds. Ironically, none of the ones were purchased... Steph found a full bedroom set for 50 bucks on Craiglist. The next day, she went to check it out in person, and decided it was a good deal (it was!) and brought it back right then. By the third night here, I was in a new bed! It's double the size of the one I had at home, and is very comfortable. I slept like a baby that night (unfortunately, I didnt for the next few, and kept waking up oriented paralell with my headboard). I bought my own towels, which felt far more momentous than it really was (they're towels -_-) and collapsible laundry baskets. I took an hour and moved all the stuff out of the heap it was in the dining room, and into neatly stacked piles in my own room.
It was in this span of 1-3 days that I spoke with Steph and Sam about the potential of The Arrangement. Basically, The Arrangement is as such: Personal Chef services in exchange for room and board. They were immediately amenable, and it became even easier when I found out that they drink their breakfast (protein shakes and what not that need only be purchased, not prepared) and that they'll often eat leftovers for lunch. I only need to prepare dinner! Wunderbar! I've really enjoyed it. Cooking is a persistent learning experience, it is very rewarding, it is methodical and organizing, It is very cathartic, particularly if I get to do it in quiet with just some music. In Adjacently Related News: I've become Neurotic about Kitchen Cleanliness, which is not eased by the smallness of the kitchen. It is about half the size of the one back home.
After that I began scoping out jobs and exploring the nearby area. I'm beginning to know things well, and keep walking downtown (about sixty blocks to the heart of downtown, round trip) to get an idea of what's near me. At the time of writing this, I have eleven job applications out, and more are going out daily. Many of them are online, which process slowly, and entry levels are always easy to disregard. I will continue in the carpet-bombing manner until I get something that sticks, because it is necessary. 'Nuff said.
Progress in the basement is slow, but each step is very satisfying. We've cleaned out the stairs and alot of junk, and wiring is fully done. I've bleach bombed it several times to ensure vermin-eradication and this weekend we'll be putting down the flooring and pricing out drywall.
While Will was here, Rockband 2 became our frequent after-dinner entertainment. With three (four, when Sam sung for us!) people to play, we really got into the total experience and had a great time. Today, Steph and I did a few sets while Sam was working the 4-8 shift and we've gotten to the point where we really can't progress anymore with me playing on Medium. Now I've got to practice new fingering sequences and learn how to play again on Hard! Oh well.
In other entertainment: Friend of Stephs (hereby named properly as Chris) hosts a group of people over every few weeks to watch UFC fights. UFC is Ultimate Fighting Championship, which is a type of Mixed Martial Arts. Basically, like Boxing except less technical, and like Wrestling except not fake. I really didn't think I'd enjoy it, but in the spirit of this whole thing and exploring new things and meeting new people, I went for and had a really good time. I will definitely be participating again.
That's a lot of writing for today... I'll try and think of more developments that I haven't covered here already to write about tomorrow. Tomorrow's Agenda: Grocery Shopping, Resumes and Applications Downtown, and Gym Membership!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
More than a year
Since my last post. But most of the people who care have been close (geographically speaking) and found out the details themselves. So, while I've been terribly lax in keeping up with this, I will start --- At this point my writing is interrupted by an evangelist at my door. I kindly tell them that we're fine with our faith, and to please go. They do not leave, so I begin explaining the concepts of Secular Humanism, which is tantamount in these parts to licking the devil's ball sack, and they flee-- at the point in which I depart.
We left later than scheduled. I stayed up until two AM Sunday night packing, and didn't want to get up. Fifteen minutes here, and there, extended goodbyes (of which I was, more than once, the first to cry) made me late in picking up Will. A quick hug with Mrs. Will's mom, and we were on the road. Having not eaten and being devoid of gas, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for the former, and got our first fill up.
Then we went west.
We went three hours without stop, through the long and ultimately un-interesting Pennsylvanian landscape. We stopped only for Will to give the gift of freedom to the distilled remnants of his large iced coffee which, unoccupied with the task of driving, he drank much more quickly than I. Another three hour stint and we were at our destination for the night, a nice little roadside Super Eight just that-side of the Ohio/Pennsylvania border. We indulged the deepest, teenage id and ordered a large, stuffed crust hawaiian pizza from Pizza Hut, and a large order of bread sticks. Now, I would never agree with Jacky that Pizza Hut is the best pizza, or even in the top ten. However, at that moment, in that place, it hit the spot. A few hours later, I passed out, with my alarm set for early in the morning, and the GPS pre-programmed for the next day's destination.
I woke up, and was surprised to find that Will had taken all the bedding off his mattress, and arranged it on the floor next to the wall. After waking him up, he went to go take his shower, and I set about the normal morning routine wherein, regardless of location, I use my spider-senses to detect coffee. Having procured two six-ounce cups of coffee and a few mini-donuts (BTW: WHO decided that six ounces was a serving of coffee? Did you forget an exponent? Get out of my breakfast), took a quick shower, and we set off.
Ohio looks about the same as Pennsylvania, until you're past Cleveland, and it looks like the boondocks. At some point here, we stop heading west, and set course Northwest towards Grand Rapids. Once in Michigan does the Midwest start to look sufficiently Midwesterly (it's a word because I said it.)
It's worth mentioning at this point that the car makes this entire trip, about 18 hours, on about fifty dollars worth of gas. Also, cruise control should run for President. On a platform of being totally frickin' awesome.
Tuesday dinner time finds us meeting Kevin and his wife Lesley, who we've played with for a few years and never met before. They're exactly like the virtual entities we've come to know, and we have a good time. Playing SSMB leads to a brief weight lifting routine (Kevin and his brother do this every week. I participate, Will opts not to (pussy). However, they soon decide that it's too hot and stop after a half hour. Ironically, Kevin's brother suggests we go get icecream. All that aside, I was sore the next day despite the relative brevity of the work out), and then a few hours of chatting about various games. Kevin ends up deciding to join one of ours, which makes me happy, as adding new players keeps up the pace.
We sleep in a finished attic room, with no air conditioning. However, it was a wonderfully cool after the sun went down, and we slept well. The next morning we met two more people we've played with for a while, whom are also close friend's of Kevin. After a few hours of chatting, and a quick lunch we set off again.
By dinner time, we were in Indianapolis. It's a small big city, but the city-sprawl goes pretty far. For a good fifty miles in any direction out of the city, the highways are lined with the retail locations and strip malls of any good metropolis. And after about fifty miles, it suddenly drops off, as if they had run out of concrete, and is overgrown with corn fields and other properly Mid-Western features.
The house is large, and old, and well-decorated. It reminds me a great deal of New Hope-ish bed and breakfast in its style, and is filled with the electic relics of people with good and varied tastes and interests. In the dining room, hanging on a rack, are a monumental size of golden wings crafted by Sam. A solid wood china case stands next to it, and next to that is a shiny black cabinet engraved with oriental artwork. The living room hosts a massive, stone fireplace, in front of which is a convertible-red drumset. In one corner of the room is a cast iron birdcage, sans birds. On top of a solid wood stand, is a large flat screen TV, a DVR, a game cube, PS3 and a Wii. Hanging on the walls are large, colorful, non-objective paintings that ar clearly done with a palette knife. I can tell that I will like it here.
Over the next fourty-eight hours I must reconcile the strange feelings that accompany Steph suddenly having a face. Having known her for a year, through the internet, it is a lesser trial to mentally relocate this disembodied voice into a real person. Sam, her wife, is utterly laid out, having had surgery on her spine the day before, but she is in good spirits. We've arrived at around seven pm, and so, Steph gives us a quick tour of the house, and then of the nearby neighborhood (that is to say, about two blocks in any given direction). We order a pizza, and while it's being cooked, explore the new comic book store that has opened up two doors down from the pizzeria, just today.
Indy likes its comic books. I've seen almost ten different comic book stores at this point, and being host to gencon, know that the metropolis certainly has more than its fair share of gamers, nerds, and the like. I've already applied for jobs at two of them :)
More to come! SOON.
We left later than scheduled. I stayed up until two AM Sunday night packing, and didn't want to get up. Fifteen minutes here, and there, extended goodbyes (of which I was, more than once, the first to cry) made me late in picking up Will. A quick hug with Mrs. Will's mom, and we were on the road. Having not eaten and being devoid of gas, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for the former, and got our first fill up.
Then we went west.
We went three hours without stop, through the long and ultimately un-interesting Pennsylvanian landscape. We stopped only for Will to give the gift of freedom to the distilled remnants of his large iced coffee which, unoccupied with the task of driving, he drank much more quickly than I. Another three hour stint and we were at our destination for the night, a nice little roadside Super Eight just that-side of the Ohio/Pennsylvania border. We indulged the deepest, teenage id and ordered a large, stuffed crust hawaiian pizza from Pizza Hut, and a large order of bread sticks. Now, I would never agree with Jacky that Pizza Hut is the best pizza, or even in the top ten. However, at that moment, in that place, it hit the spot. A few hours later, I passed out, with my alarm set for early in the morning, and the GPS pre-programmed for the next day's destination.
I woke up, and was surprised to find that Will had taken all the bedding off his mattress, and arranged it on the floor next to the wall. After waking him up, he went to go take his shower, and I set about the normal morning routine wherein, regardless of location, I use my spider-senses to detect coffee. Having procured two six-ounce cups of coffee and a few mini-donuts (BTW: WHO decided that six ounces was a serving of coffee? Did you forget an exponent? Get out of my breakfast), took a quick shower, and we set off.
Ohio looks about the same as Pennsylvania, until you're past Cleveland, and it looks like the boondocks. At some point here, we stop heading west, and set course Northwest towards Grand Rapids. Once in Michigan does the Midwest start to look sufficiently Midwesterly (it's a word because I said it.)
It's worth mentioning at this point that the car makes this entire trip, about 18 hours, on about fifty dollars worth of gas. Also, cruise control should run for President. On a platform of being totally frickin' awesome.
Tuesday dinner time finds us meeting Kevin and his wife Lesley, who we've played with for a few years and never met before. They're exactly like the virtual entities we've come to know, and we have a good time. Playing SSMB leads to a brief weight lifting routine (Kevin and his brother do this every week. I participate, Will opts not to (pussy). However, they soon decide that it's too hot and stop after a half hour. Ironically, Kevin's brother suggests we go get icecream. All that aside, I was sore the next day despite the relative brevity of the work out), and then a few hours of chatting about various games. Kevin ends up deciding to join one of ours, which makes me happy, as adding new players keeps up the pace.
We sleep in a finished attic room, with no air conditioning. However, it was a wonderfully cool after the sun went down, and we slept well. The next morning we met two more people we've played with for a while, whom are also close friend's of Kevin. After a few hours of chatting, and a quick lunch we set off again.
By dinner time, we were in Indianapolis. It's a small big city, but the city-sprawl goes pretty far. For a good fifty miles in any direction out of the city, the highways are lined with the retail locations and strip malls of any good metropolis. And after about fifty miles, it suddenly drops off, as if they had run out of concrete, and is overgrown with corn fields and other properly Mid-Western features.
The house is large, and old, and well-decorated. It reminds me a great deal of New Hope-ish bed and breakfast in its style, and is filled with the electic relics of people with good and varied tastes and interests. In the dining room, hanging on a rack, are a monumental size of golden wings crafted by Sam. A solid wood china case stands next to it, and next to that is a shiny black cabinet engraved with oriental artwork. The living room hosts a massive, stone fireplace, in front of which is a convertible-red drumset. In one corner of the room is a cast iron birdcage, sans birds. On top of a solid wood stand, is a large flat screen TV, a DVR, a game cube, PS3 and a Wii. Hanging on the walls are large, colorful, non-objective paintings that ar clearly done with a palette knife. I can tell that I will like it here.
Over the next fourty-eight hours I must reconcile the strange feelings that accompany Steph suddenly having a face. Having known her for a year, through the internet, it is a lesser trial to mentally relocate this disembodied voice into a real person. Sam, her wife, is utterly laid out, having had surgery on her spine the day before, but she is in good spirits. We've arrived at around seven pm, and so, Steph gives us a quick tour of the house, and then of the nearby neighborhood (that is to say, about two blocks in any given direction). We order a pizza, and while it's being cooked, explore the new comic book store that has opened up two doors down from the pizzeria, just today.
Indy likes its comic books. I've seen almost ten different comic book stores at this point, and being host to gencon, know that the metropolis certainly has more than its fair share of gamers, nerds, and the like. I've already applied for jobs at two of them :)
More to come! SOON.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
On Pain of Death
Recently, in one of the few conservations I've had with a member of my family in the past two weeks, it was divulged to me that the lack of blogging would soon result in aggressive retaliation. Whether or not this was the exaggeration of the person on the other end of the phone (who is known, in some circles, for a special brand of storytelling) is unclear, I agreed that I should get on this, and as it seems, I need to start from some time back. It's beginning to be a pattern that reflects poorly on me.
Airplane rides cannot be compared to car rides with any accuracy. People say comparing apples to oranges: apples and oranges are very comparable...they're both fruit, they're both eaten by many people, one's round while the other's got a little foot-like appendage...This, good people, is all comparison. Airplanes and Cars? They go from Point A to Point B. It ends there. I will say however, that there is a certain thrill, equal parts fear and adrenaline, that is derived from watching layers of clouds beat down against a metal wing and be thoroughly repelled as pure force propels you above the reaches of other men.
Getting off the plane and going through customs was nothing what like anyone had told me. There was no harsh germanic barking, no sniffing dogs, no large man named Wilma with a pair of rubber gloves and a bottle of KY jelly. No one even looked at my bags. They stamped my passport, without saying a word, and I was free to go. The benefits of my grandfather's generous donation are more than mere transport, as his elite status provided my baggage with the same priority as his own would receive, and allowed me to catch it on the carousel literally as soon as I got there. The Kuxhauses were waiting for me just beyond that gate, and we were headed back to their house in Bann, a little suburb of Landstuhl, all of which is within the Kaiserslautern Military Community, or KMC.
More to come... On Pain of Death?
Airplane rides cannot be compared to car rides with any accuracy. People say comparing apples to oranges: apples and oranges are very comparable...they're both fruit, they're both eaten by many people, one's round while the other's got a little foot-like appendage...This, good people, is all comparison. Airplanes and Cars? They go from Point A to Point B. It ends there. I will say however, that there is a certain thrill, equal parts fear and adrenaline, that is derived from watching layers of clouds beat down against a metal wing and be thoroughly repelled as pure force propels you above the reaches of other men.
Getting off the plane and going through customs was nothing what like anyone had told me. There was no harsh germanic barking, no sniffing dogs, no large man named Wilma with a pair of rubber gloves and a bottle of KY jelly. No one even looked at my bags. They stamped my passport, without saying a word, and I was free to go. The benefits of my grandfather's generous donation are more than mere transport, as his elite status provided my baggage with the same priority as his own would receive, and allowed me to catch it on the carousel literally as soon as I got there. The Kuxhauses were waiting for me just beyond that gate, and we were headed back to their house in Bann, a little suburb of Landstuhl, all of which is within the Kaiserslautern Military Community, or KMC.
More to come... On Pain of Death?
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Long Time Coming
Seeing as how I haven't posted in almost two weeks, and people are badgering me, it's time for a blog update.
The U.S. Customs Service is some maligned, accursed creature, composed of equal parts bureaucracy, paperwork and flesh, spawned within the deepest, darkest pits where even the demons don't go. There's something exceptionally poetic, no, accurate, about the fact that the Philadelphia customs building was used in Ghostbusters. I can't remember the exact line, but it goes something like "a place mathematically constructed to be the seat of pure evil." I never even entered the building, merely stood outside it for just over an hour, and it's shadowy influence still hangs around me.
So, yes, after getting up at ungodly hours of the morning (while my classmates slept in, because, they too, were part of the Customs Agency's depraved plan to kick me repeatedly in the nads) and rushing out of breakfast (because, apparently, cellphones turn themselves off, or take a nap, or simply become inoperable, as they feel like it), clenching the handle of the car with a white-knuckle grip as I contemplate the horrendous possibility that we won't make the appointment, to get lost three or four times, to stand in a line with three hundred other people, they too have a nine-AM appointment, for naught. About 15 feet from the door, a phone rings. A cellphone, my father's. He picks it up, and by some unquantifiable mix of divine providence and wholly unnatural mischief, my mother's voice announces that "The UPS guy was just here. Michael's passport is here."
I don't really know if your blood can boil from frustration while you heave a sigh of relief. I tried, though.
Thursday night was a good time, and it really pained me to think that, despite our promises of reunions and re-uniting, there was and is the possibility that we would not be together this way again. Of course, that's true: we wouldn't be together in this environment ever again. That's what made it important, that's why it was special. My understanding is that there are already plans for a November reunion, but it'll be interesting to see if that actually happens. Eric and I created paper plate awards for the whole group, which, if you're unfamiliar, are mock awards. Stuff like "Most Likely to Force a Cripple to Dance" or " I Bring My Pillow to Lecture Award". That was a lot of fun to make, to present, and we were well-recieved.
Thursday was also the internal closing ceremony. We were brought to the Field House, instructed to don our blindfolds and link hands and to close our lips. For a good fourty-five minutes we marched, arms extended and eyes blinded, in silence. While our professors were nearby to help prevent us from colliding with things, we still managed to run into things and off the paths, but seemed to devise a mechanism to aid others... after hitting an object, the person ould drag their feet, making it easier for us to follow the sounds around the obstacle. Eventually we stopped moving and it became apparent where we were. Gentle crackling, smell of smoke, and light bleeding in through the edges of our blindfolds foreshadowed the bonfire we saw when we removed them. We were told to pick up a stick from a stack near the fire, and to announce one thing we brought to the program, and to place our stick in the fire. Afterwards, we each claimed a small stone and announced what we were taking from the program. Then we sat around and made smores for a bit, before returning to the dorm, where we threw a huge party for Michelle. Thursday was Michelle's birthday, and the dance party that pervaded four bedrooms and the hallway certainly seemed like a celebration.
Graduation was good, but longer than it had been planned. Though we practiced that morning, we still managed to botch the coordinated rise and sit maneuvers, and through self-correction made ourselves look even worse. However, Alex's poetry, Dan's violin performance and the drum ensemble's performance were all amazing, as usual, and made it worth it. Air Conditioning would have been nice. From there, we packed up and left rather quickly, despite some other parents' inability to park. We got home by six o' clock, and my always-awesome friends Paul, Will and Duane came. We had a good time as usual. Sam wasn't able to come, but she sent her mother over with a GIGANTIC bag of candy, which was, as always, incredibly sweet of her. Thanks again, Sam.
I'll put up another post in the next 48 hours about the flight and the recent stuff in Germany.
The U.S. Customs Service is some maligned, accursed creature, composed of equal parts bureaucracy, paperwork and flesh, spawned within the deepest, darkest pits where even the demons don't go. There's something exceptionally poetic, no, accurate, about the fact that the Philadelphia customs building was used in Ghostbusters. I can't remember the exact line, but it goes something like "a place mathematically constructed to be the seat of pure evil." I never even entered the building, merely stood outside it for just over an hour, and it's shadowy influence still hangs around me.
So, yes, after getting up at ungodly hours of the morning (while my classmates slept in, because, they too, were part of the Customs Agency's depraved plan to kick me repeatedly in the nads) and rushing out of breakfast (because, apparently, cellphones turn themselves off, or take a nap, or simply become inoperable, as they feel like it), clenching the handle of the car with a white-knuckle grip as I contemplate the horrendous possibility that we won't make the appointment, to get lost three or four times, to stand in a line with three hundred other people, they too have a nine-AM appointment, for naught. About 15 feet from the door, a phone rings. A cellphone, my father's. He picks it up, and by some unquantifiable mix of divine providence and wholly unnatural mischief, my mother's voice announces that "The UPS guy was just here. Michael's passport is here."
I don't really know if your blood can boil from frustration while you heave a sigh of relief. I tried, though.
Thursday night was a good time, and it really pained me to think that, despite our promises of reunions and re-uniting, there was and is the possibility that we would not be together this way again. Of course, that's true: we wouldn't be together in this environment ever again. That's what made it important, that's why it was special. My understanding is that there are already plans for a November reunion, but it'll be interesting to see if that actually happens. Eric and I created paper plate awards for the whole group, which, if you're unfamiliar, are mock awards. Stuff like "Most Likely to Force a Cripple to Dance" or " I Bring My Pillow to Lecture Award". That was a lot of fun to make, to present, and we were well-recieved.
Thursday was also the internal closing ceremony. We were brought to the Field House, instructed to don our blindfolds and link hands and to close our lips. For a good fourty-five minutes we marched, arms extended and eyes blinded, in silence. While our professors were nearby to help prevent us from colliding with things, we still managed to run into things and off the paths, but seemed to devise a mechanism to aid others... after hitting an object, the person ould drag their feet, making it easier for us to follow the sounds around the obstacle. Eventually we stopped moving and it became apparent where we were. Gentle crackling, smell of smoke, and light bleeding in through the edges of our blindfolds foreshadowed the bonfire we saw when we removed them. We were told to pick up a stick from a stack near the fire, and to announce one thing we brought to the program, and to place our stick in the fire. Afterwards, we each claimed a small stone and announced what we were taking from the program. Then we sat around and made smores for a bit, before returning to the dorm, where we threw a huge party for Michelle. Thursday was Michelle's birthday, and the dance party that pervaded four bedrooms and the hallway certainly seemed like a celebration.
Graduation was good, but longer than it had been planned. Though we practiced that morning, we still managed to botch the coordinated rise and sit maneuvers, and through self-correction made ourselves look even worse. However, Alex's poetry, Dan's violin performance and the drum ensemble's performance were all amazing, as usual, and made it worth it. Air Conditioning would have been nice. From there, we packed up and left rather quickly, despite some other parents' inability to park. We got home by six o' clock, and my always-awesome friends Paul, Will and Duane came. We had a good time as usual. Sam wasn't able to come, but she sent her mother over with a GIGANTIC bag of candy, which was, as always, incredibly sweet of her. Thanks again, Sam.
I'll put up another post in the next 48 hours about the flight and the recent stuff in Germany.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Passport: The Burninator
There is a direct relationship between how much I write, and how strange things become...
The night after my last post we had the pleasant intervention of the obnoxious fire alarm. Unlike previous instances, the alarm began at a most inopportune time. Around, eh, oh, one thirty AM. That is my absolute favorite time to be woken up abruptly. When standing outside in the coldness and humidity, waiting for the "alarm to be resolved" ( an exercise through which they confirm the pre-existing thought that the alarm has gone off due to excessive heat on one floor, and quite nothing to do with any actual combustive force) people reflected that I looked "angry" or "pissed." The responses to such a statement are suprisingly limited, and consisted primarily of pointing at a clock and grunting the current time... I guess the number of options dwindle as the hours do.
It's somewhat shocking to see everyone's faces in the mornings, and realize that the times I will see them again are conspicuously numbered. I've got a Note on the side of my Desktop (wee Vista?) that has the countdown until the Arts Festival, the Reseach Paper due date and Graduation all prominently displayed against my wallpaper. Today being the second to last day of Seminars, and the last day for History and Literature, we are all beginning to feel the exhaustive effects of a world coming to its close. We are struggling to maintain our vigilance in the work still forthcoming, and yet are filled with the sweet, grinning satisfaction of trials overcome, as the most direct work portion of the program comes to a close. Late at night we find ourselves saying very little, but smiling very much from behind our computer screns at each other. The onslaught of take-out food, however, has not stemmed in the least. The chinese food guy lets himself in at this point...talk about convenience food.
Great trepidation comes with great treks. I'm looking with open eyes and open arms on the rest of the summer, and the stark difference between this experience and the one I am, as mentioned before, swiftly speeding towards. However, the passport agency is totally screwing with my plans.
(You hear that Passport Agency? Yeah? Good. Twerp...) The passport that I applied for several months ago has yet to come, and, according to testimony from the highest order (Read: Mom), their instructions are "If you don't have it by Thursday the 26th (3 days before the trip), come in to PHILADELPHIA on the 27th. Now, getting my passport two days prior to the trip would be troublesome as it is... but that is, to be cliche, "the tip of the iceberg." Friday is my graduation from NJSP, and Thursday is the day Paige leaves for TLW. Having to spend the day in the Passport Office in Philadelphia (Read: Ninth Level of Hell) would require one of my parents to pick me up Thursday night (thus depriving them of seeing my sister off), which is an hour and a half drive in its own right, to drive two hours into Philadelphia and back Friday. This sticky situation would only be worse in actual practice, as it would require me to get the whole of my things packed Thursday and would bar me from spending much time with my friends here as they, too, prepare to leave, myself being in a greater rush.
At this point, I can only hope for some glimmer of salvation within the labyrinthic depths of the passport agency's telephone system (Read: endless amount of time onhold (again, testimonial)).
Finally, good people, I leave you with this wisdom:
Cankersores. Suck.
The night after my last post we had the pleasant intervention of the obnoxious fire alarm. Unlike previous instances, the alarm began at a most inopportune time. Around, eh, oh, one thirty AM. That is my absolute favorite time to be woken up abruptly. When standing outside in the coldness and humidity, waiting for the "alarm to be resolved" ( an exercise through which they confirm the pre-existing thought that the alarm has gone off due to excessive heat on one floor, and quite nothing to do with any actual combustive force) people reflected that I looked "angry" or "pissed." The responses to such a statement are suprisingly limited, and consisted primarily of pointing at a clock and grunting the current time... I guess the number of options dwindle as the hours do.
It's somewhat shocking to see everyone's faces in the mornings, and realize that the times I will see them again are conspicuously numbered. I've got a Note on the side of my Desktop (wee Vista?) that has the countdown until the Arts Festival, the Reseach Paper due date and Graduation all prominently displayed against my wallpaper. Today being the second to last day of Seminars, and the last day for History and Literature, we are all beginning to feel the exhaustive effects of a world coming to its close. We are struggling to maintain our vigilance in the work still forthcoming, and yet are filled with the sweet, grinning satisfaction of trials overcome, as the most direct work portion of the program comes to a close. Late at night we find ourselves saying very little, but smiling very much from behind our computer screns at each other. The onslaught of take-out food, however, has not stemmed in the least. The chinese food guy lets himself in at this point...talk about convenience food.
Great trepidation comes with great treks. I'm looking with open eyes and open arms on the rest of the summer, and the stark difference between this experience and the one I am, as mentioned before, swiftly speeding towards. However, the passport agency is totally screwing with my plans.
(You hear that Passport Agency? Yeah? Good. Twerp...) The passport that I applied for several months ago has yet to come, and, according to testimony from the highest order (Read: Mom), their instructions are "If you don't have it by Thursday the 26th (3 days before the trip), come in to PHILADELPHIA on the 27th. Now, getting my passport two days prior to the trip would be troublesome as it is... but that is, to be cliche, "the tip of the iceberg." Friday is my graduation from NJSP, and Thursday is the day Paige leaves for TLW. Having to spend the day in the Passport Office in Philadelphia (Read: Ninth Level of Hell) would require one of my parents to pick me up Thursday night (thus depriving them of seeing my sister off), which is an hour and a half drive in its own right, to drive two hours into Philadelphia and back Friday. This sticky situation would only be worse in actual practice, as it would require me to get the whole of my things packed Thursday and would bar me from spending much time with my friends here as they, too, prepare to leave, myself being in a greater rush.
At this point, I can only hope for some glimmer of salvation within the labyrinthic depths of the passport agency's telephone system (Read: endless amount of time onhold (again, testimonial)).
Finally, good people, I leave you with this wisdom:
Cankersores. Suck.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Continuum: Getting Hairy
Last week I had the pleasure of a short week, which seems suspiciously like a calm before the storm. Last Tuesday my group had a free period in the afternoon, which allowed me to get a bit ahead on the work as well as to take a long nap. Wednesday, on the other hand, was as hectic as it was enjoyable. We were released from class at 3, but several of us, myself included, had to be ready in dress attire to escort arriving Trustee's and friends of the program to the dinner hall. Each year the program hosts a dinner that allows the members of the Board and friends of the program to meet the Scholars and talk with us. Unfortunately, last Wednesday was a dark and stormy night, and we ran across campus, again, in dress attire, umbrellas in tow, to the meeting place. We were pleased to find out that the escorting idea had been nixed, and trustees would be driven in campus cars to the dining hall, but somewhat less excited to realize that our now-free hands would be helping set up the catering trays, etc. I had the fine pleasure of arranging 80 half-chickens in sterno trays by hand. I wore gloves, calm down. The dinner was fun, and the food was good. I had the opportunity to talk with my Environment professor in a more casual environment, and the Trustee at our table was actually kind of funny (lampooning a fellow Trustee who announced " You're the brightest, most interesting people I've ever met", to which he responded "She doesn't get out much...").
After the dinner with the Trustees, the majority of us had chartered a bus, and went to a nearby movie theater to see the fifth Harry Potter movie. I won't spoil it, except to say that it was good, but not great, and as usual, will never compare to the movie. Great FX though.
Thursday we had to get up HORRENDOUSLY early, to go into New York. It was a long drive, lasting about two and a half hours, as a result of driving in a giant chartered bus and driving directly into rush hour traffic. It was actually in our best interest, in truth, because it later turned out my shoes do horrible work to the back of my feet, and by the time I got on the train, I was eager to put on my sneakers despite being in a full suit.
We first visited the Museum of Natural History, at which most people focused on getting their sketches, essential to our field trip-based assignment, done despite the endless tides of people going through the exhibit. Over the course of doing my two drawings in public, I evidently became something of a spectacle, gaining some spectators. A Chinese family and a fair number of children became watching, chattering in their language which I didn't speak a word of, but nodded to. I was also told that my drawings were "mad phat, dawg." Exciting :)
The train ride home was a fiasco. There were five of us all taking the Midtown...something. We went to a help desk to find out which train, specifically, would allow us all to get on, and it was explained to us that two of us would have to go on one and three on another. So, me and my train-companion, Meghan, headed to our train. I asked the conductor if the train would stop in Dover, which I always do as a precaution, to which he responded
"No. The one on the other side of Penn Station does though. It leaves in three minutes."
As I'm sure explanation here is unnecessary, I'll keep it short: I got to the train. This train, the one that leaves in three minutes and was on the other side of Penn Station and that I did manage to get on , was also the same train that the three others were on. I ended up walking all the way to the back of the train before I called one of them to find out where they were, and if I could find some company. They sent one of their number all the way to the back of the train to find and lead me back to them and, upon arriving, I realized that they were only one car forward of the one I had originally walked onto. I also found that there was actually a fourth scholar with us, and the trainride was alot of fun.
I was greeted by my mother and my dog at the train station. They've pretty much become my post-train welcoming crew at this point, and there was a palpable feeling of being back within my own space, a town and area that I'm familiar with. We went home, where I changed out of my suit (which after 10 hours, 6 of which were spent walking, I was truly done with,) and left to go and get food for my visit (apparently mom's trying to starve out dad and paige?). I managed to hold off opening my new laptop (from which I am writing), until about 8 o clock. The machine is great, and =D better than my dad's PC! It took a while to get everything set up (World of Warcraft wasn't ready until 11 AM Friday morning...) but it's a great machine and works wonderfully.
My weekend was full of visitors, with Crystal and Homcy joining me Friday night, and then Duane and Will Saturday into Sunday. Crystal was supposed to join me for breakfast Sunday morning but she made some excuse to sleep in or whatnot. I left later Sunday afternoon and had dinner with Mom and Aunt Heidi, which I really liked. Upon returning to school I was reminded of how oppressively hot my room is, and set to working on my laptop in the common room, which is much cooler because it is on the first floor. Over last night and Sunday night I've managed, not only to stay abreast of the work this week, but to get ahead. I am, however, a bit behind on my arts festival project, which is due for Saturday, and requires a great deal of focus on my part. This was problematized by a massive headache last night, and everyone seems to be experiencing spells of extreme fatigue. I intend to finish off all reading and deadlined work tonight, so that I can focus whole-heartedly on the necessity of overcoming the Arts Festival project. I'm really happy with the concept, and am looking forward to putting it on the paper... but time haunts me.
After the dinner with the Trustees, the majority of us had chartered a bus, and went to a nearby movie theater to see the fifth Harry Potter movie. I won't spoil it, except to say that it was good, but not great, and as usual, will never compare to the movie. Great FX though.
Thursday we had to get up HORRENDOUSLY early, to go into New York. It was a long drive, lasting about two and a half hours, as a result of driving in a giant chartered bus and driving directly into rush hour traffic. It was actually in our best interest, in truth, because it later turned out my shoes do horrible work to the back of my feet, and by the time I got on the train, I was eager to put on my sneakers despite being in a full suit.
We first visited the Museum of Natural History, at which most people focused on getting their sketches, essential to our field trip-based assignment, done despite the endless tides of people going through the exhibit. Over the course of doing my two drawings in public, I evidently became something of a spectacle, gaining some spectators. A Chinese family and a fair number of children became watching, chattering in their language which I didn't speak a word of, but nodded to. I was also told that my drawings were "mad phat, dawg." Exciting :)
The train ride home was a fiasco. There were five of us all taking the Midtown...something. We went to a help desk to find out which train, specifically, would allow us all to get on, and it was explained to us that two of us would have to go on one and three on another. So, me and my train-companion, Meghan, headed to our train. I asked the conductor if the train would stop in Dover, which I always do as a precaution, to which he responded
"No. The one on the other side of Penn Station does though. It leaves in three minutes."
As I'm sure explanation here is unnecessary, I'll keep it short: I got to the train. This train, the one that leaves in three minutes and was on the other side of Penn Station and that I did manage to get on , was also the same train that the three others were on. I ended up walking all the way to the back of the train before I called one of them to find out where they were, and if I could find some company. They sent one of their number all the way to the back of the train to find and lead me back to them and, upon arriving, I realized that they were only one car forward of the one I had originally walked onto. I also found that there was actually a fourth scholar with us, and the trainride was alot of fun.
I was greeted by my mother and my dog at the train station. They've pretty much become my post-train welcoming crew at this point, and there was a palpable feeling of being back within my own space, a town and area that I'm familiar with. We went home, where I changed out of my suit (which after 10 hours, 6 of which were spent walking, I was truly done with,) and left to go and get food for my visit (apparently mom's trying to starve out dad and paige?). I managed to hold off opening my new laptop (from which I am writing), until about 8 o clock. The machine is great, and =D better than my dad's PC! It took a while to get everything set up (World of Warcraft wasn't ready until 11 AM Friday morning...) but it's a great machine and works wonderfully.
My weekend was full of visitors, with Crystal and Homcy joining me Friday night, and then Duane and Will Saturday into Sunday. Crystal was supposed to join me for breakfast Sunday morning but she made some excuse to sleep in or whatnot. I left later Sunday afternoon and had dinner with Mom and Aunt Heidi, which I really liked. Upon returning to school I was reminded of how oppressively hot my room is, and set to working on my laptop in the common room, which is much cooler because it is on the first floor. Over last night and Sunday night I've managed, not only to stay abreast of the work this week, but to get ahead. I am, however, a bit behind on my arts festival project, which is due for Saturday, and requires a great deal of focus on my part. This was problematized by a massive headache last night, and everyone seems to be experiencing spells of extreme fatigue. I intend to finish off all reading and deadlined work tonight, so that I can focus whole-heartedly on the necessity of overcoming the Arts Festival project. I'm really happy with the concept, and am looking forward to putting it on the paper... but time haunts me.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Continuum: One Hundred and Sixty Eight Hours
It's been a whole week since I've posted... What does that mean? Does it mean that the network here is a pain to work with, or perhaps it means that I've been swamped in "schoolwork" that is unpredictably checked? Perhaps it means I blacked out and was unable to re-establish my connection to the English language; or maybe I just slept ALOT.
I'll let you decide.
Now I'll take a few moments to reach back into the memories of the week that has just passed, and yet seems so long ago.
On Sunday Mom came up, bringing Paige and Crystal with her. We had a great time, even though they arrived late due to a serious of unforeseen and unfortunate events, and Dad wasn't able to come... We went into Princeton and had a good time, once Mom managed to parallel park. On her fourth try. As a learning driver, I think I need to find a new role model for that particular skill. Oh, and on that note- one can tell how expensive a restaurant will be by the percentage of the menu that is taken up by a wine list. We also stopped in a bunch of shops throughout Princeton, notably Ricky's, from which I procured a two-pound bag of mixed candy that makes great company while studying.
Monday I got another visitor! Grandma came up and brought me another fan, for which I am very grateful. I've got my two fans oscillating across the room from opposite sides, creating a really nice cross draft... Coupled with leaving my room-light off and leaving the window open, for light and air, I've managed to keep my room pretty cool. We explored Lawrenceville and Princeton (read: got lost) and then went to Nassau St. and the surrounding and found some places to eat. We finally settled on Japanese, which I haven't had good experiences with in the past, but I was pleasantly surprised! Usually Japanese places carry seafood to near-exclusivity, and I am not fond of the fishie types, so I'm usually at a disadvantage, but this place had a variety of dishes. I got to try beef negimaki, pork shogayaki and chicken teriyaki, all of which was great :) I'm glad we tried it.
Wednesday there were plans to have a barbecue and to see the fireworks at nearby Ryder college. However, I was misinformed about the time of the barbecue and slept through it (I ordered pizza instead) and the forecast predicted rain, which prevented the fireworks. All in all, a rather uneventful Fourth, but I got to catch up on my sleep and had a good day nonetheless.
Thursday was a godsend! Our lecture was rescheduled to be that night, instead of that morning, allowing me to sleep in to 10:30! Normally this is something reserved for the weekends, but it worked out really nice to have it after the Fourth and was nice to get to rest and not worry about working *and* getting up at the crack of down. Thursday night, however, was a different story. As I was laying in bed, reading and preparing to sleep, the rythmic screeching of a fire alarm dashed that plan against the rocks. I rolled out of bed, in my boxers, colliding (in what I imagine was a rather slapstick display) with the fan that I had mounted on my chair. I rushed to pull on pajama pants and a t-shirt as I half-walked half-fell down the stairs to the outside. As soon as we were outside, the sky promptly decided to open up upon us. While this normally would not have been that bad, the greater portion of us were in sleepwear, packed like sardines under the less-than-full coverage of the front awning, constantly pushing against and into one another trying to avoid the rain. Also, because of the timing of the alarm, the front door locked behind us and our Housemaster had to call Campus Public Safety to open it for us.
Friday night Sam, her mother, and her sister Sydney, all came down to Princeton to look around and visit me. I had a really good time with them. We walked around both sides of Main Street, looking at some of the buildings and shops, etc. That family is so generous :) I just want to thank them again for the great evening, and their company and generosity. It was great to see them. Later that night the whole dorm got together to watch Fight Club. I was my first time seeing the movie, and I'm not sure what I think of it yet. I didn't like the forced "romance", but the production values were high, so I've got to think about it more...
Until next time, be safe, drop a line, and I hope everyone is having a great time!
Maybe next time I'll post something about the program...
I'll let you decide.
Now I'll take a few moments to reach back into the memories of the week that has just passed, and yet seems so long ago.
On Sunday Mom came up, bringing Paige and Crystal with her. We had a great time, even though they arrived late due to a serious of unforeseen and unfortunate events, and Dad wasn't able to come... We went into Princeton and had a good time, once Mom managed to parallel park. On her fourth try. As a learning driver, I think I need to find a new role model for that particular skill. Oh, and on that note- one can tell how expensive a restaurant will be by the percentage of the menu that is taken up by a wine list. We also stopped in a bunch of shops throughout Princeton, notably Ricky's, from which I procured a two-pound bag of mixed candy that makes great company while studying.
Monday I got another visitor! Grandma came up and brought me another fan, for which I am very grateful. I've got my two fans oscillating across the room from opposite sides, creating a really nice cross draft... Coupled with leaving my room-light off and leaving the window open, for light and air, I've managed to keep my room pretty cool. We explored Lawrenceville and Princeton (read: got lost) and then went to Nassau St. and the surrounding and found some places to eat. We finally settled on Japanese, which I haven't had good experiences with in the past, but I was pleasantly surprised! Usually Japanese places carry seafood to near-exclusivity, and I am not fond of the fishie types, so I'm usually at a disadvantage, but this place had a variety of dishes. I got to try beef negimaki, pork shogayaki and chicken teriyaki, all of which was great :) I'm glad we tried it.
Wednesday there were plans to have a barbecue and to see the fireworks at nearby Ryder college. However, I was misinformed about the time of the barbecue and slept through it (I ordered pizza instead) and the forecast predicted rain, which prevented the fireworks. All in all, a rather uneventful Fourth, but I got to catch up on my sleep and had a good day nonetheless.
Thursday was a godsend! Our lecture was rescheduled to be that night, instead of that morning, allowing me to sleep in to 10:30! Normally this is something reserved for the weekends, but it worked out really nice to have it after the Fourth and was nice to get to rest and not worry about working *and* getting up at the crack of down. Thursday night, however, was a different story. As I was laying in bed, reading and preparing to sleep, the rythmic screeching of a fire alarm dashed that plan against the rocks. I rolled out of bed, in my boxers, colliding (in what I imagine was a rather slapstick display) with the fan that I had mounted on my chair. I rushed to pull on pajama pants and a t-shirt as I half-walked half-fell down the stairs to the outside. As soon as we were outside, the sky promptly decided to open up upon us. While this normally would not have been that bad, the greater portion of us were in sleepwear, packed like sardines under the less-than-full coverage of the front awning, constantly pushing against and into one another trying to avoid the rain. Also, because of the timing of the alarm, the front door locked behind us and our Housemaster had to call Campus Public Safety to open it for us.
Friday night Sam, her mother, and her sister Sydney, all came down to Princeton to look around and visit me. I had a really good time with them. We walked around both sides of Main Street, looking at some of the buildings and shops, etc. That family is so generous :) I just want to thank them again for the great evening, and their company and generosity. It was great to see them. Later that night the whole dorm got together to watch Fight Club. I was my first time seeing the movie, and I'm not sure what I think of it yet. I didn't like the forced "romance", but the production values were high, so I've got to think about it more...
Until next time, be safe, drop a line, and I hope everyone is having a great time!
Maybe next time I'll post something about the program...
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