At Jaina's suggestion - a detail which further serves to show how cool she is - the current residents of the fourth floor headed to Rumble On the River, a 12-match boxing extravaganza, or boxaganza, at the Hudson River Park last night.
The event showcased some really fun matches, although the outcomes were sometimes predictable - every person who pranced around in their corner before the fight inevitably lost.
Anyways, the Jainasaurus and I had a wonderful time, and even managed to snag two free, matching T-shirts for some boxing website (and you know how I am about free t-shirts). Serious roomate bonding? Check. Now if only andrew would come back from retainer camp...um, I mean...the navy. Right. The Navy...where he is proudly serving humanity and NOT attending workshops about proper headgear maintenance...
Gotta go!
Friday, July 29, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
The whole system is out of order!
Yep. "Never don't commit a crime" is about as much sense as criminal justice seems to be making these days. I get stopped for nothing, and later a good friend of mine gets traumatically slapped on the head by some kids rushing off the subway, only to have the majority of those on board with her laugh at her misfortune as the kids get away scott free. Today I read that a double-decker tour bus at 51st street (those big red ones with all the goofy tourists) was suddenly surrounded by 100 ARMED POLICE OFFICERS, and all the passengers were forced off the bus and searched for the sole reason that a bus dispatcher called 911 after seeing "three arabic men with backpacks" get on the bus with all the other tourists. Yep, that was the entire threat. Elsewhere, other new yorkers have begun volunteering to have their bags searched at Grand Central today as a show of patriotism - the cops were happy to spend their time searching those who volunteered, and together both parties insured the safe, unchecked passage of anyone with anything to hide. Up is Down! Left is Right! The world sinks further into a head-slappingly bad comedy routine.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Oh, how I've changed...and one pill makes you smaller...
The first thing that most people say when I tell them about my recent run-in with the law is that I do, indeed, look suspicious (even though I was wearing the science belt at the time). And at first I didn't believe them, until a certain kitty-chan e-mailed me photographic evidence of my having grown since moving to new york. My hair is much longer, too. Here I am in downtown NYC, feeling a little grumpy.
Yep, looks like somebody needs a nap.
Yep, looks like somebody needs a nap.
Trouble looks like this
The good doctor and his elder sisters. I pity the fool who ends up on the other side of this table - cheery, disarming expressions aside.
(And look at that sloppy half-windsor knot. For shame, Dr. Science.)
(And look at that sloppy half-windsor knot. For shame, Dr. Science.)
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Did I almost get taken to jail today? Yes.
Okay, okay. Let me start this off by saying that when I flew back to New York on Sunday, I got picked, at random, for a thorough security search (if your boarding pass has "SSSS" in the upper left corner, congrats, you're today's winner). The security agents went through everything I had, and opened all my belongings and searched me. I was quiet the whole time, I was patient, and I was as helpful as I could be. I understood what was going on and I was fine with it.
So today I'm walking down St. Mark's Place, with my iPod on, music blaring, when this overweight, sweaty guy in a t-shirt walks right up to me and, very irritated, says "I need to see your ID, sir." At first I assumed he was a homeless guy. "And you are...?" I said. "I need to see your ID, sir, let's go." "Um, what is this about, and who are you?" At this point he takes out of his pocket this mangled, rusty-looking badge, but he's holding it low against his side, so I can't really see it. I tell him I have no way of knowing whether it's real or not, and ask to see some more ID. "What do you mean whether or not it's real?" He asks angrily. "There are reports all the time in the news about fake cops. You must have more ID than that." "You'll see it in a minute, and I don't like your attitude!" he snaps back. He continues, "Now I need to see your ID, and I need to take this" - and at that point he starts to put his hand in my pocket. Now this is the pocket where, for years, I have carried a knife, for largely utilitarian purposes. So it freaks me out a little when some dude who has yet to establish in my mind that he is a real cop starts putting his hand in my pocket. So I start to say "whoa" and push his hand away when his partner - who, thankfully, is clearly more level-headed than anyone at this point - comes over and shows me his badge and ID. The fat cop holds up my knife and says "this is illegal" and I say, "no, it's not."
He claims it's a gravity knife, which is a particular model of knife that is illegal and is NOT what I am carrying. I tell him so, but he doesn't care. "And you better watch your attitude" he says, "because I could lock you up for this." I give him my ID and tell him that as far as I am aware, mine is not a gravity knife, and is within the legal length limit. The fat cop takes my driver's license and gets into the front seat of a waiting taxi cab.
"...um, what? Why are you in cab?" I ask the partner, who is still standing with me and who is now PLAYING WITH THE KNIFE ON A CROWDED STREET, OPENING IT AND TWIRLING IT AROUND. He tells me, proudly, that "we're undercover." He then asks me if I use this knife for fishing. Huh?
I talk with the partner for a while, and explain to him why I carry the knife, and why it's so beat up, and what I'm doing in NYC. Then he sits in the cab with the fat cop for a while. Finally the partner comes back and hands me my ID and my knife. "Okay, I'm not supposed to let you have this.." And here I interject, "If it's a problem, keep it." "Well, you need it for work, so it's fine. But my partner really wants to lock you up, so just keep it in your pocket, and don't let anyone see you have it from now on." I thank him and am on my way.
And do you know what I learned from this? What lesson could I have learned? That it's totally okay by the police to have something they believe [albeit mistakenly] to be illegal, as long as they don't see you with it? Oh, great lesson, guys. All I have conclusively learned from this is that there is some truth to the stereotype that cops get off on having power over people. Hooray for lessons I didn't need.
So today I'm walking down St. Mark's Place, with my iPod on, music blaring, when this overweight, sweaty guy in a t-shirt walks right up to me and, very irritated, says "I need to see your ID, sir." At first I assumed he was a homeless guy. "And you are...?" I said. "I need to see your ID, sir, let's go." "Um, what is this about, and who are you?" At this point he takes out of his pocket this mangled, rusty-looking badge, but he's holding it low against his side, so I can't really see it. I tell him I have no way of knowing whether it's real or not, and ask to see some more ID. "What do you mean whether or not it's real?" He asks angrily. "There are reports all the time in the news about fake cops. You must have more ID than that." "You'll see it in a minute, and I don't like your attitude!" he snaps back. He continues, "Now I need to see your ID, and I need to take this" - and at that point he starts to put his hand in my pocket. Now this is the pocket where, for years, I have carried a knife, for largely utilitarian purposes. So it freaks me out a little when some dude who has yet to establish in my mind that he is a real cop starts putting his hand in my pocket. So I start to say "whoa" and push his hand away when his partner - who, thankfully, is clearly more level-headed than anyone at this point - comes over and shows me his badge and ID. The fat cop holds up my knife and says "this is illegal" and I say, "no, it's not."
He claims it's a gravity knife, which is a particular model of knife that is illegal and is NOT what I am carrying. I tell him so, but he doesn't care. "And you better watch your attitude" he says, "because I could lock you up for this." I give him my ID and tell him that as far as I am aware, mine is not a gravity knife, and is within the legal length limit. The fat cop takes my driver's license and gets into the front seat of a waiting taxi cab.
"...um, what? Why are you in cab?" I ask the partner, who is still standing with me and who is now PLAYING WITH THE KNIFE ON A CROWDED STREET, OPENING IT AND TWIRLING IT AROUND. He tells me, proudly, that "we're undercover." He then asks me if I use this knife for fishing. Huh?
I talk with the partner for a while, and explain to him why I carry the knife, and why it's so beat up, and what I'm doing in NYC. Then he sits in the cab with the fat cop for a while. Finally the partner comes back and hands me my ID and my knife. "Okay, I'm not supposed to let you have this.." And here I interject, "If it's a problem, keep it." "Well, you need it for work, so it's fine. But my partner really wants to lock you up, so just keep it in your pocket, and don't let anyone see you have it from now on." I thank him and am on my way.
And do you know what I learned from this? What lesson could I have learned? That it's totally okay by the police to have something they believe [albeit mistakenly] to be illegal, as long as they don't see you with it? Oh, great lesson, guys. All I have conclusively learned from this is that there is some truth to the stereotype that cops get off on having power over people. Hooray for lessons I didn't need.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Ye olde news roundup...now with less olde news!
Okay, kids. Mango Pancakes has hit new york! Everyone should applaud and welcome her. We had dinner this evening and I went with her to buy books. Considering she arrived late last night, I'd say she's handling it like a pro. The heart of a champion, I tell you. With Susie soon to follow, that will be a total of two new wonderful kids in New York, which should make the place feel that much more comfortable...
except...
...well, so, I went home for a week, right? And while I was there I met with some folks from the University of Michigan's residential college who are basically offering me the opportunity to design and run my own program training students to go and do community-based theatre in detroit, as part of a collaboration with Matrix Theatre Company. Even though the money's terrible (does ANYONE in michigan have money anymore?), the opportunity is incredible and the work is something I really believe in. Also, there's a good chance I could use this work as the basis for a doctorate degree. Also, I visited the folks at my old science stomping grounds and received several heart-felt "we'd love for you to come back and work here, even part-time" sort of statements, so I could add to my funds that way. Anyways, although I'm not yet 100% decided, it looks strongly like I'll be moving back to the great frozen tundra of ann arbor come January/end of december.
I can't decide how to be both happy and sad at the same time, though, so here's a picture of the Hamburglar and Grimace about to eat a small child.
Seriously, look at Grimace all rubbing his stomach like, "I sure do love baby." For the record, in my head Grimace sounds a lot like Slingblade. And the hamburglar and I both need a haircut.
except...
...well, so, I went home for a week, right? And while I was there I met with some folks from the University of Michigan's residential college who are basically offering me the opportunity to design and run my own program training students to go and do community-based theatre in detroit, as part of a collaboration with Matrix Theatre Company. Even though the money's terrible (does ANYONE in michigan have money anymore?), the opportunity is incredible and the work is something I really believe in. Also, there's a good chance I could use this work as the basis for a doctorate degree. Also, I visited the folks at my old science stomping grounds and received several heart-felt "we'd love for you to come back and work here, even part-time" sort of statements, so I could add to my funds that way. Anyways, although I'm not yet 100% decided, it looks strongly like I'll be moving back to the great frozen tundra of ann arbor come January/end of december.
I can't decide how to be both happy and sad at the same time, though, so here's a picture of the Hamburglar and Grimace about to eat a small child.
Seriously, look at Grimace all rubbing his stomach like, "I sure do love baby." For the record, in my head Grimace sounds a lot like Slingblade. And the hamburglar and I both need a haircut.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
...more like firedayofffromworks...er, um...
Boy, Jim and Andrew weren't kidding when they said our roof was the place to be for the fourth of July. Tilotama joined me for some traditional Independence Day fried chicken and roof-sitting, and then we watched as the entire horizon was dotted with fireworks from miles around. We were in just the right place to see all three big New York displays perfectly, and most of our neighbors were on their roofs having parties to celebrate the occasion. As Tilotama's unofficial guide to America, I think this was a pretty good way to spend the day.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Photographs and recuperation
As I attempted these past few days to sail past the rough patches of sea described in a recent post, I was still kinda feeling down. Yes, I found out I got an A in my really tough class, but it was also one of my most enriching classes to date, and now it's over. The costume dance party on Friday night, about which I was very excited and ready with a bizarre costume, was a complete bust and totally lame. So when it came time for Saturday's "Mad Scientists' Ball," I found my luck had changed - I was going to be accompanied by a tall, blonde bolt of lightning named Monica.
It's really tough to stay sad when she's your company and you're both dressed like a mad scientists, on your way to dance your brains out. Monica and I have had a lot of the same woes lately, but, as any good scientist can tell you, if you put the right reagents together in the right conditions...
It's really tough to stay sad when she's your company and you're both dressed like a mad scientists, on your way to dance your brains out. Monica and I have had a lot of the same woes lately, but, as any good scientist can tell you, if you put the right reagents together in the right conditions...
Bang, pow!
...exciting things can happen. Here we are at the scientists' ball, playing with some of the installations and whatnot left around for atmosphere. Then we went upstairs and taught those kids a lesson or three about dancing, and soon the whole place was jumping. A live techno band (you'd have to hear them to believe them) came on, and we rocked out for a good while before heading home.
And furthermore...
And furthermore...
She blinded me!
...if my good spirits were't quite apparent enough in the last photo, here it is again, in SCIENCE-VISION! Or, um..blue.
Anyways, a fantastically good and much-needed time was had, and I'm tremendously grateful to Monica. I do get a decent amout of liars and jerks in my life, but I'm certainly blessed to have them counterbalanced by such good friends. I really am a very lucky guy (knock on wood).
Anyways, a fantastically good and much-needed time was had, and I'm tremendously grateful to Monica. I do get a decent amout of liars and jerks in my life, but I'm certainly blessed to have them counterbalanced by such good friends. I really am a very lucky guy (knock on wood).
Friday, July 01, 2005
Good Judgement
There's been a lot of dumb news lately. For example, a woman tattooing the address of an internet gambling site on her forehead in return for $10,000. The invention of the robot lobster. A stupid publicity stunt resulting in a giant popsicle flooding Union Square.
Then I read that in the frenzy of this morning's supreme court news, one of the first names to be tossed around as a possible successor was Alberto "Torture is A-Okay, Mr. President!" Gonzales. Suddenly, all that other stuff seems like comparatively good ideas.
Then I read that in the frenzy of this morning's supreme court news, one of the first names to be tossed around as a possible successor was Alberto "Torture is A-Okay, Mr. President!" Gonzales. Suddenly, all that other stuff seems like comparatively good ideas.
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