The Whole "Twenty-One" Thing (Part I)

Christmas marked my twenty-first birthday, and apparently I magically became old enough to drink responsibly. So tonight Claire, her older sister Karla, and I went out to Houlihan's to break-in my new adult-status Minnesota Driver's License. I ordered Samuel Adams (2 for 1 during Happy Hour), but was, alas, not carded. The place was quite packed, so we ended up sharing a table with a group of seemingly random Minnesotans who happened to be friends. They all knew each other, but aside from one pair being sisters, they seemed to have no definite connection. They were all in high spirits, however, and before long started including the three of us in their rounds of drinks. The first was a shot of Rumple Minze; the latter - I was told - was a "Red Headed Slut" (1/2 oz Jagermeister, 1/2 oz peach schnapps, splash cranberry juice), but since it was served in an Old Fashioned glass (instead of a shot glass) I'm not entirely sure.

Missing person

Admittedly my posts have been infrequent this month, as they often are in December, but I've been wondering for quite some time what ever happened to Mr. or Ms. Jamessux (I have the feeling that 'Ms.' is correct, so I'll take a chance here). This mysterious character was my most frequent commenter back in 2004 around the election. I didn't agree with her (and didn't really like her abrasive style), but I can be rather nostalgic at times. Since we don't have any fresh material, let's revisit some of my favorite Jamessux moments:

"James, you are so lame. Why do you write stupid nonsense?"

Okay that's enough.

Jamessux, are you out there?

Christmas past

I had a full and enjoyable Christmas. Claire joined my family and my sister's friend Joanna for my official birthday meal at Joe's Crab Shack on Friday. She was ill that night (for reasons unrelated to the meal), so I stayed the night and took her to urgent care on the morning of Christmas eve. She was already doing better by the time she rejoined us for dinner, the candlelight church service, and, of course, opening of presents. The highlight of my collection was a Tom Bihn Brain Cell laptop case for my new Alienware notebook computer.

The next morning we opened stockings (Mom gave me three bars of dark chocolate!) and ate homemade lemon doughnuts. We were joined for a lunch of roast ham by my aunt and uncle and my cousin Karl and his girlfriend Natalie. Pictionary and chocolate chip birthday-cheese cake followed. Claire and I finished the day by creeping ourselves out with the unpleasantly dark movie Seven, and we were both glad to have each other near.

End Of Semester Summary

Since I've all but failed to post so far this month, I'd perhaps best summarize things, real quickalike: 5 December was the final review for studio. It was an amazingly stressful day, but I think my review didn't go terribly. I was told by my classmates afterward that I was "articulate" during my presentation, which is reassuring. Drawing class ended with much lower-key review one week later, although the preparation was actually much more time-consuming. Building systems concluded with an exam on Tuesday that turned out to be quite easy except for a couple odd questions. That afternoon and evening I got all my studio belongings to my apartment and then out of that jumble I picked out the things I needed to bring home. After a very short night's sleep I flew home on Wednesday. Thursday and the first four hours of Friday were consumed by the final paper for my Discourse class. Finishing at 4:45 EST, I wrapped up my semester in the true architecture school style. I'm by no means idle now, but the pressing deadlines are passed.

Intriguing Product

Claire brought these to my attention - the perfect gifts for your favorite geologist, rock hound, or birthstone enthusiast.

The tenth intriguing product is SoapRocks.

Wind And Rain, Respectively

We had powerful winds from yesterday evening until about ten this morning. The afternoon was calm and pleasant, but rain started while a number of us were having dinner at Cosmo's. I rode home from main campus about four hours later, and there was clearly at least ten centimeters of water flooding the roads. It's a good night to stay in and work; I'm glad I came home when I did, and I'm glad I've nowhere to be until noon tomorrow.

Turkey and ham with Netskis and Wellingtons

Thanksgiving was a delightful experience. I enjoyed both my time in the car with Chris and the time at the house with her immediate and extended family. The Netskis were the hosts for the day, but most of the guests had the Wellington last name that Chris's mother once used. I was the only non-relation except one childhood friend of an uncle who was back in town unexpectedly. Chris's cousin James is just a year older than myself, so I quickly came to be called "James H" to avoid confusion; I'm not sure anyone other than Chris herself knew my whole last name. She and I both had the impression that the more distant relations took us for a couple, but we went with the flow since there seemed to be a general feeling of approval and the closer family had the accurate picture anyhow. My cosmo cranberry sauce was a hit with all the aunts, and the fact that the recipe came from a Google search didn't seem to diminish my kitchen cred'. Mrs. Netski was very generous at departure time, and I've been eating delicious leftover ham at every meal today.

Ready for Santa's parade appearance

My Thanksgiving break began last night around 9:00, and it looks like Syracuse got a couple inches of snow since then to create the appropriate ambiance. I enjoyed my first full night of sleep in several weeks, and I'm actually looking forward to donning my new boots for a pre-Thanksgiving trip to the grocery store. Tomorrow I'm joining my classmate Chris for a visit to her parents lake house in the finger lakes. I'll miss being with my family, but I expect that this will be the next best thing.

Which kind of rubber?

I'm doing my homework for Building Systems, and in the process of searching for CSI three-part specs for a Ethylene Propylene Diene Monomer waterproof membrane, I came across product information for All Virgin Hot Applied Sealant, which includes in its ingredients "organic reinforcing fillers." Maybe I just need a break, but it seems funny to me.

Rocking On The High Seas

I decided in September that I would allow myself to buy one new album this semester, so I weighed the matter carefully, wanting to make sure I picked a good one. Ultimately I decided to take a chance and add to my collection not just a new band but a new genre - extreme metal. This past summer I made a habit of listening to the 93X-treme Metal Workshop every Friday night, so I became somewhat familiar with the world of heavy metal on the far side of Metallica. I used the show's website as a foothold and scoped out a number or bands and albums on AMG. After a few weeks of consideration, I ordered Leviathan from Overstock.com.

The 2004 album is the most recent release from Mastodon, an Atlanta based quartet, and it is an excellent piece of music. Like many a heavy metal album, Leviathan's lyrics are rather dark, but separating this work from the rest is the obvious thought that went into them. While not a full-fledged concept album, Levithian is undeniably engaged with Herman Melville's novel Moby-Dick. From the album title to song titles like "I am Ahab" to the lyrics the disc is poetry reacting to the prose. Musically the group is equally strong; the sound is rich, but not cluttered, leaving no room for mediocre performances. I'm looking forward to hearing more from Mastodon in the future.

Talk About Love

I've seen signs in the shelter at my bus stop for a series of lecture-type events hosted by a couple of SU sororities. I support the Greek organizations attempts to pursue education outside the classroom, but I haven't been entirely convinced of the merit of their events based upon the titles. The most current one was "Do Black Men Love?" Before that came "Are Men Dogs Or Do Women Make Them?" I'm not entirely sure what they were asking with that one, especially since I think it's pretty obvious that women make men (along with more women). I guess that using the language of formal logic we could truthfully say that "men are dogs or women make them," but I'm not sure where that gets us.

Honestly I think the sorority girls would do better to follow PBS's Religion & Ethics Newsweekly, which recently dealt with African-American families. The program also had a rather interesting poll about American family values. The most recent issue of The Week references the poll noting that "71% of Americans believe 'God's plan for marriage is one man, one woman for life,' but only 22% see divorce as a sin." So much for the sanctity of marriage.

Centro Confusion

It's homecoming weekend here at Syracuse University, which means that the campus is packed with hundreds of parents and alumni who don't know where they parked the car or which bus will take them to where they need to go. One woman in particular had no clue what she was doing. She boarded two buses clearly displaying "Not In Service" signs" before finally getting on my bus. She and her husband boarded though the rear door and sat down a seat away from me in the far back of the jam-packed bus before the woman told her husband that it'd be best if he went to the front to ask the driver if they were on the right bus. The general chaos and confusion both in and around the bus slowed my fifteen minute ride to a twenty-five minute ride. At one point I saw the bobbing head of a little boy on his dad's shoulders pass by my window moving faster than we were.

Since 1953

Happy fifty-second, Mom!

Of iron and carbon

Our Building Systems class went on its third and presumably final field trip of the semester. This time we went to the Nucor Steel plant in Auburn, NY, and saw some truly awesome things. Within five minutes of donning our safety gear, we walked on a metal-grate walkway over a production line of red-hot steel bars. The day was cold, but the heat coming off the steel kept the whole place warm. The buildings were so huge that I could not see from one end to the other, an effect no doubt enhanced by the soot in the air. The site is a "mini-mill," practically tiny to the major plants of Pittsburgh and Cleveland, utilizing only scrap steel instead of raw ore. The Auburn facility was cutting edge when it was built in the mid 70s, and today it remains for more efficient than its larger counterparts. The experience was amazing, and I would love to go back for a more thorough tour.

Of silicon and oxygen

The entirety of today was consumed by a studio field trip to the Corning Museum of Glass in Corning, NY. Chris drove, and Paul, Tim, and I rode along. We stopped at a busy little shop in Ithaca near campus of Cornell for sandwiches along the way. Professor Munly had arranged for a tour, so we got to hear about the glass-heavy architecture of the old Corning industrial campus before exploring the museum itself. We had a lunch break, and then a little bit of time for exploration. I saw a glassblowing presentation, and had fun gazing into a rather crazy lens. Unfortunately, I didn't actually get to spend much time looking at the actual museum collection, but perhaps there'll be another day for that. We concluded our visit with a tour of the new library, which utilizes some very interesting architecture to control the temperature, humidity, and light to which the books are exposed. It was very dark by the time we got back.

After we got back I took Chris out to eat at a local Indian restaurant as a small repayment for the ride.

A meat and potatoes day (sans the meat)

I was out the door early this morning for an 8:15 field trip to Steps Plus, Inc., a local operation specializing in architectural precast concrete and cast stone. It was pretty neat to see our last few weeks of lessons take form in front of us. Our tour guide was an co-owner and son of the founder. We saw a number of processes, including the coloration of the cement through both sand type and additional additives and the bending of reinforcing bars. Despite the apparent simplicity of the operation and the rudimentary buildings that housed it, the presence of computers and the latest chemical information was quite apparent. Our tour guide explained that chemical advances have played an important role in improving their product, but that the replacement human workers by computers has been the most significant change. Since the electronic systems do a much better job of creating precise ingredient mixtures the overall strength of the concrete the company produces has doubled.

After tromping around the muddy floors past the big metal equipment I came back briefly to start up my new crock pot. When I returned after drawing class I found a very welcome dinner of potatoes and carrots in an onion broth awaiting me. I think I will get much use out of this device in the coming winter months.

Treating

I came home briefly for dinner, and I just happened to still be in when three trick-or-treaters knocked on my door. All I had to give were the Mounds bars that my parents sent me, but remembering fondly my own Halloween treks through the neighborhood, I decided to share the wealth. Still, I was dismayed to be swarmed by at least half a dozen more kids who saw from a distance the light of my open door. I think there must have been pretty slim pickings here on South Campus. I was rather surprised that the family center, usually willing to send out a mass e-mail for any little thing, did not remind us that we should stock-up.

Resuscitation Recitation

The CPR class turned out to be a mildly unpleasant experience. This year it was quite obvious that I would have been better off with a simple challenge instead of the full-length class. Unfortunately, timing did not permit such an option, so I was stuck for the day. While I was able to get out an hour early due to the small class size, it was painfully obvious that we could have spared ourselves at least another hour if our instructor hadn't gone off topic for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. Jennifer is in her second marriage, and she should have married this guy the first time. He's a former Marine (not an ex-Marine; don't ever call a former Marine an ex-Marine because, as they say, once a Marine, always a Marine) because he blew out both knees in service. One of the students in our class is also a former Marine, currently in the Army Reserve, fresh back from Iraq. She turned to him to back up all her stories about how great Marines are, and while I think he was flattered at first, he quickly grew as impatient as I was. She didn't help her case by continually talking about her own heath problems to the other middle-aged women. These problems include a hysterectomy, the hormone therapy resulting from the hysterectomy, her upcoming gastric-bypass to help her deal with her obesity that resulted from the hormone therapy, her cesarean sections, and her fused wrist, which forced her retirement from teaching music.

On the plus side, I was passed the written exam with 100% correct, and no one else was more than half-done with their exam by the time I left. I also got to take some longer walks on what turned out to be a very nice day because the bus schedule was not at all aligned with my own schedule, and I'm glad for it.

Crosses

On Thursday our class toured the construction site of the new Church of the Holy Cross, which was designed by the firm of our building systems professor. It was chilly, but I enjoyed walking around the machinery and exploring the partially erected structure. Additionally, I got to break it my Wisconsin Badgers hard hat, which I recently ordered from TeamOnTop.com.

Tomorrow I go to the local American Red Cross chapter for another all day CPR training session to get renewed for another year.

One Upping

The food on campus is mediocre in quality and rather expensive, so I've made a habit of noting what looks good to me and then buying it (or its components) from the grocery store and preparing it myself.  I made my own version of the Studio Break cafeteria's "Mac & Cheese" this evening.  Interestingly enough, neither of us actually used macaroni.  They use small shells while I selected whole wheat penne rigate.  I don't know what went into their sauce, but I used butter, flour (half whole wheat, half unbleached all-purpose), salt, milk, cheese, and parsley.  I'm pleased with the way it turned out.  As a result of my do-it-myself approach to food, I've developed a reputation in the studio as being the most frugal as well as culinarily ambitious.  I think I like both reputations although I know I have a long ways to go to fulfill the latter.  Still, cooking has been a lot more enjoyable this year.  I think it serves as a nice change of pace from the architecture work, and its nice not having to please anyone but myself.  If I just had a dishwasher, it'd be a perfect pastime.

Live from the Centro

I'm riding bus 9921 home from campus, and tensions are running high. Apparently a campus TV station has been airing a show called "Over the Hill," which, no doubt inspired by shows like South Park and Family Guy, has been using offensive material for humorous purposes. Unfortunately it sounds like the kids running the show have stepped over the line - more than once. The Daily Orange, supposedly condemning the show, ran a huge article that actually glorified it with page after page of (hilariously) offensive material. Really I think the kids were going for a satire, but I can see how their all-white cast prevented them from succeeding where issues of race are concerned. Listening to both sides argue it out here on the bus I'm glad that the controversy hasn't found its way into my studio.

Distance has a way

Google Earth tells me that when Claire and I are in our bedrooms at school we are seperated by 733,900 smoots. What is a smoot? Wikipeida has the answer:

A smoot is a unit of distance used for measuring the Harvard Bridge. It is named after an MIT fraternity pledge at Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity, Oliver R. Smoot (class of 1962), who in October, 1958 was rolled head over heels by his fraternity brothers to measure the length of the bridge. The smoot is equal to his height (five feet and seven inches -- 1.70 m), and the bridge's length was measured to be "364.4 smoots plus one ear". Everyone walking across the bridge today sees painted markings indicating how many smoots they are from the Boston-side river bank. The marks are repainted each year by the incoming pledge class of Lambda Chi Alpha. Markings typically appear every 10 smoots, but additional marks appear at other numbers in between. For example, the 70-smoot mark is omitted in favor of a mark for 69. The 182.2-smoot mark is accompanied by the words "Halfway to Hell" and an arrow pointing towards MIT. The markings have become well-accepted by the public, to the point that they are sometimes used by police to indicate the location of accidents along the bridge.

This was only the beginning of Smoot's career in standards and measurement; he later became Chairman of the American National Standards Institute (ANSI) and President of the International Organization for Standardization (ISO).

For those of you who still aren't keen on the smoot, the distance converts to 1,249 kilometers.

Don't Drink The Water

I just received notification that the Onondaga County Health Department has lifted its boil water order for the southeastern portion of the City of Syracuse. Due to a discovery of E. coli in the public water system we've been primarily dependent on bottled water for the past two days. I've been frustrated by my inability to wash dishes, but generally unaffected since the last few days have been too packed to allow for cooking anyway.

Drawing Field Trip

Our drawing class trekked across the quad last night to the John Crauss Memorial College building to see the Syracuse University Symphony Orchestra give one of their three free Tuesday night classes of the semester. The three pieces played were:
Camille Saint Saëns (1835-1921): "Danse Bacchanale" from Samson and Delilah
Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Concerto for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 38
Johannes Brahms (1833-1897): Symphony No 1 in c minor
I enjoyed the trip, and managed one or two decent sketches. Most of my classmates have a far stronger drawing background, so there were some pretty impressive drawings in the books when we got back to the classroom.

Later in the evening Michael, another student in my class, decided he didn't like the snack he had purchased, so I got to finish his bag of Fritos® brand Flavor Twists® brand Honey BBQ flavored Corn Snacks. I thought they were tasty but was lukewarm to their overly functional name and the presence of MSG in the ingredients.

Badgers Badgers

It looks like the Hepokoski family is getting another Badger. My little sister Laura, who is currently in her final year at Maple Grove Senior High sent in her application to UW-Madison last week...and got accepted this week! Whether she will even bother finish her Duke and Univeristy of Minnesota applications remains to be seen. This turn of events sure makes me feel silly for always pushing the deadlines (and thus subjecting myself to stressful waiting periods), but I can still celebrate with a good ol' Badger dance.

Orange closer to yellow than Cardinal

Two years at the University of Wisconsin – Madison have spoiled me. The campus has not one, but two major student newspapers of reasonably high quality. I was always a fan of The Daily Cardinal, but my preference stemmed primarily from the presence of the fabulously funny comic "Everyone Drunk But Me" by Laura Beth Brandt and the slightly smaller size of the paper. Both it and its major competitor, The Badger Herald had a good selection of news, sports, and human interest stories. (Though not a constant reader I liked the Herald enough to apply for a position on its staff.)

Syracuse University isn't nearly so fortunate. Only one major student paper can be found here, and I suspect this lack of competition is a contributing factor to the overall trashiness of The Daily Orange. The articles are often little more than thinly veiled complaints, the comics are only funny if you are stuck by their randomness, and the sports section is monstrously overgrown (although I realize that this is probably not a bad thing given the readership). As for "human interest" stories - well let's say they take that a little too literally. You can see what I mean in this bit from yesterday's piece "Strap Tease" by Erin Hendricks and Katie Walsh:

Bra Unhooking 101:
- Check to make sure she's actually wearing a bra
- Ease her shirt off
- Feel her up to check on the clasp location

If it's on the back:
- Keep making out while moving your hand to the middle of the back of her bra
- Put your thumb on one side of the clasp, and your fingers on the other
- Pull together, and the bra will unhook easily

If it's on the front:
- Keep making out and move your hand to the front of her bra
- Squeeze the clasp together with your thumb and forefinger
- Twist clasp and lift up on the hook
- The bra will open and leave you with an eyeful of breasts

[...]

What the experts say...
"Whenever I'm drunk and can't speak, let alone get a bra off, I just push it up over the prize."
- Matt Smith, sophomore computer engineering major

"One time I was hanging out with a lady, kind of drunk, and I was looking around for a solid 30-40 seconds for a clasp before I realized it was a sports bra."
- Mike McQueeny, sophomore political science major

"If you're fooling around with a girl who's wearing a black bra and took her own shirt off, take the bra off one-handed. But if you're with a girl who's wearing a white bra and you have to do it all, go with two hands - it'll make you seem like you don't have as much sex."
- Ryan Donnelly, sophomore accounting major

I wish I could say this was anomalous.

Live from the Centro

It's thirteen past one in the morning, and I'm sitting on bus 9950, traveling route 344 from College Place to Slocum Heights via Euclid and Westcott. There are eighteen passengers in addition to myself, and two of them are unbelievably drunk. Both are girls, and I'd wager freshmen (or maybe lightweight sophomores), and they are two of the loudest people I've ever encountered. They've been "singing" (shouting) the whole ride; I recognized "Maria" from Santana's album Supernatural but none of the others. "Jake," who's also had a few drinks but is handling his liquor far better asked them to be quiet, and now they're quite upset with him. One of them is taking a rather aggressive approach, accusing him of being a square, being sexually frustrated, being a closet homosexual (in far less polite terms). The other is trying to get him involved in "the fun," trying to show him how his own evening activities should make him as easygoing as them. Jake's keeping his cool.

The girls got off four stops too early. They had intended to ride to my stop. I'm not complaining.

Bubblicious

Anne sent me some cool soaps, and waiting on my door step when I arrived home this this afternoon was the best smelling package I've ever received, bar none (if you'll excuse the pun). She included a cool print she made along with three bars, all of which I had named as top choices.

Two bars were NatureNate's herbal soaps: Orange Clove (which "has a very uplifting fragrance and lathers up great in the shower!") and Lavender, Rosemary, & Tea Tree with Oatmeal (which "is great after a stressful day, relaxing yet uplifting[...]with the mild exfoliating effects of ground oatmeal").

The third bar was made by Dahlem's Soapworks, and the scent is FarmGirl Clean (a "very fresh and tangy grapefruit scent"). I'm sure Anne took some small amount of pleasure from the fact that I selected a soap called "FarmGirl Clean;" she likes to make sure that her heterosexual white-boy friends (and I'm certainly one of them) remain devoted feminists.

Autumn

On a cool Saturday in September or October, there's nothing I'd rather do that go to Apple Jack Orchards in Delano, Minnesota, eat a few apple doughnuts, find the very best pumpkins for Halloween carving, and then go home to peel apples for my dad's apple pies and crisps.

Nature walk

I undertook a much needed trip to the P&C this evening, picking up the essentials: milk, bread, bananas, and cream of mushroom soup. It was dusk when I departed, and a fog was settling over south campus. My "neighborhood," Slocum Heights, is on the highest ground, and setting out from it was a descent into a wispy cloud. The afternoon drizzle had abated, and the rain that's currently falling hadn't yet begun. South campus is by no means an attractive place; there are no real sidewalks; buildings are built in an almost random arrangement; power-lines mar the little bit of wooded landscape (although less so that the cell phone tower that is masquerading as an amazingly fake looking pine). Despite these short comings, I enjoyed my environment this evening with the fog and the darkness smoothing out the rough edges. Dark had come by the time I made the return trip, and I was using the blue light of the emergency phone as a guide. With my attention so occupied, I was almost on top of the four deer lounging on the field I was crossing before I noticed them. I came onto them once before, but they were much calmer this evening. I must have come within ten meters, and they did no more than watch me carefully.

I've spent the remainder of the evening reading, writing, and snacking on a pumpkin doughnut while listing to the rain.

Meanwhile back in the Madtown

I saw that the Wisconsin State Journal has an update on my former professor Keith Cohen today. I wrote about Prof. Cohen back in March.

Cohen, 60, pleaded no contest on July 28 in Milwaukee County Circuit Court to one count of exposing a child to harmful materials. He was sentenced to two years' probation and 30 days in jail, with work-release privileges.

His jail sentence started Aug. 26 and ends Sunday. Starting Aug. 29, Cohen had been serving part of his work release on campus. He wasn't teaching classes, but he commuted to Madison to work at Van Hise Hall, where his office is located....

"Our goal throughout all of this was to find productive work for Cohen - since we are required by law to pay him - that would keep him away from students as well as staff and faculty," [UW- Madison Provost Peter] Spear said. "Now that our investigation is complete and we have determined that he should be terminated, we have decided to remove him from campus immediately."

The full article is here. I hope the thirty days knocked some sense into the man, but I also hope that he's okay and that his friends among the faculty can forgive him.

Since 1984

Happy twenty-first, Claire!

Centipedes

I've long had a significant fear of centipedes, a prevalent and speedy pest in my parents' home. Over the past five years, I've been working to overcome my fears slowly but surely. I still call for someone else to kill the bugs if the possibility exists, but I've gotten much better at dealing with them when I'm home alone. I started with a broom, worked my way up to a paper towel with rubber gloves on, and this summer was able to get a small one without the gloves.

As no one has come to live in the other bedroom in my apartment, I'm quite alone here. Alone aside from the centipedes, I should amend. So far they've all been in my kitchen, moving back and forth from under the fridge to a crack between the floor and the frame of the door to the outside. I've usually caught them in the mornings, and they've always managed to get back to the crack before I could react. Coming home late this evening (or early this morning, if you prefer), I found a couple when I flipped on the light. I think they were confused by an apparent early dawn, and they froze long enough for me to take them out with two slaps of my sandal.

I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm hoping that if I have to continue to deal with the creepy little buggers this year, I will be able to kick my fear once and for all.

Treading Lightly

I think whoever had this apartment last year must have had a stapler fight with someone. About every second or third day I step on something sharp, and then have to get down on my hands and knees and work a staple out of the carpet. I'm not getting any better at removing the staples - this morning's took be a while to work out - but I am getting better at easing up as soon as I feel something sharp digging into my foot.

A toaster pastry toaster

I'm still lacking a number of things around here, but - thanks to a midday shopping trip - a toaster is no longer one of them. The number of stores I can reach is essentially three: a P&C supermarket, a CVS drugstore, and the school bookstore. The P&C is the only one within walking distance, so if they sell what I want, they usually get my business. I was a little hesitant to buy the generic ten-dollar toaster that was displayed prominently on their shelves, but then I spotted a Toastmaster model selling for twelve, and I had at least heard of Toastmaster, so I went for it.

It looks like most of the shoddy toasters that fill American homes, but hopefully it will last me a year or two. One aspect of this toaster, which was not depicted or advertised on the box, is an odd one, however. Like most toasters it has a dial that controls the darkness of the toast by changing the duration of the heat time. Most say "light" and "dark," or perhaps "LO" and "HI" at opposite sides of the dial as a guide to the user. Mine says at the far end "dark" quite simply enough. But, turning counterclockwise, one finds not "light," but "pop-tarts" in the ridiculous red lettering that was their logo for a couple years in the early part of this decade. The instructions make it clear that this nifty device will handle bread as well as "non-frozen shelf pastry."

I will conclude by passing on to you these inspiring works found at the end of the English-language section of the instruction manual: EVERYBODY EATS. It's a fact of life. But sometimes preparing meals can become a chore. That's why TOASTMASTER has been invited into millions of kitchens just like yours so we can HELP YOU MASTER your mixing, baking, grilling, toasting, brewing, heating and serving tasks WITH EASE AND STYLE. The TOASTMASTER name stands for a CELEBRATION of INNOVATION designed to serve your life and keep you COOKIN' IN STYLE.

Salt City

I made the surprisingly short journey to Syracuse on Monday. Claire drove me to the Minneapolis/St. Paul International airport (far too few days after she picked me up there after the family vacation). I took a taxi from the Syracuse airport to the campus, which was only twenty-minutes away. Syracuse is not a pretty place, nor is the south campus where I live, but the main campus seems nice enough. It, like Madison, was blighted by the construction of the 1960s, 70s, and 80s, but less so, I think. I haven't been able to start my meal plan yet, and food has been my biggest trouble thus far. After some trouble I found a grocery store within walking range. I have to trudge through a hilly field, but until the snow falls I'll enjoy it. (I saw a doe and two fawns this evening on my way back.) I don't have nearly enough kitchenware, but at least I was able to get some pots and pans this evening. I'm hesitant to buy too much, because I still don't know if I'll be getting a roommate or not. The extra space and quiet is nice, but I'm sure having a roommate would be nice at times. One such instance would have been my first morning here. When the toilet turned into a geyser. Yup. Coulda used another pair of hands then.

Silence

I realize that it's been a long time since my last post, but I have a good excuse (two of them actually). I left with my family for a two-week vacation in Northern Europe at the beginning of the month. We've been back since Sunday, but I've been increasingly sick. I had a fever of 102 last night.

Hopefully more regular posting and my good health will be back shortly.

Passing

I very much enjoy the time I get to spend outdoors both on my way to and while I'm at Elm Creek Park Reserve. At the pond we can often hear pheasants in the surrounding grasses and biking home through the park, I often catch a glimse of young rabbits who are only a few inches long. Their youth is very apparent when I pass them, and they dart in three different directions before deciding to take cover in the tall grass, a refuge to which the older rabbits would take immediately.

Even out of the park, I've had some interesting interactions will animals (and people) on my path. Last week, I was biking next to Hemlock lane under I-94, and a morning dove was walking a very straight line right down the center of the bike path. When I neared it, the little bird "pulled over" to the wall on the left, giving me pleanty of room to pass by. When I looked over my shoulder a few seconds later, I saw that it had moved back to the center and was continuing its very linear journey. Later on that same ride, I approached two women who were walking shoulder-to-shoulder, taking up too much of the path for me to comfortably pass. I called out to them in my usual manner of bicycle on your left! The woman on the left attempted to step forward and right to give me room, but she was thwarted by the woman on the right who attempted to step forward and left, apparently mixing up left and right for a moment.

As a bicyclist in a city dominated by cars and clueless power-walkers, I've found the animals to be (generally) much easier to share the roads with. I add 'generally' because the Canada geese are just downright nasty.

Which opposite of quick?

Both the Elm Creek swim pond and the Maple Grove Community Center pool are frequented by a number of mentally disabled persons. Wading in the water is apparently an exciting and enjoyable activity for many of them. In some ways I think they get to have more fun than anyone, since they retain a child-like enthusiasm for such a simple pleasure even after they are large enough to take advantage of the deeper water. Sometimes they require some extra patience, but usually I find them to make enjoyable patrons since due to their obvious joy.

Today I was in the men's bathroom applying sunscreen before work started, and I had the place to myself. I looked up and saw a man approaching my very slowly. His age was difficult to guess, and his face was disfigured. His crooked mouth gaped open, and one brow was enlarged to the point where he seemed to be limited to sight from the eye on the opposite side. He walked with a limp, his arms stretched out in front of him. I wasn't sure if I should move out of his way or stay still to make navigation easier for him. I decided to stay still, but just as the man neared me, another man, similarly disfigured, entered the room, walking in an identical manner. I was suddenly struck by their similarity to zombies of films. Their lifeless gaze, clumsy gait, and outstretched arms made them dead ringers for the walking dead.

And for just a moment - no more than a single second - I was afraid. I told myself that I was being ridiculous, but my immediate follow-up thought was, maybe that's what all the people in the movies tell themselves. But, of course, my instant of fear was silly, and I was glad it did not prompt me to act. The first man only brushed my shoulder with his arm, and I realized as he passed me that he was merely sticking to the right wall in order to navigate the room. I watched to make sure both men made it to the toilets, and then I departed into the summer sun.

High praise

This evening there were a large number of bikes still locked to the rack when I left the pond for home. Several guys (a couple adults, a few kids, all male) were there with me, unlocking their bikes and packing their bags. A kid of about ten was parked next to me, and he watched me unlock my bike, stow my cable in its mount, turn on and attach my headlight and taillight, and clip in my water bottle and computer. His eyes widened and he said to me in an awed voice, Your bike has everything. I have a hunch that's about as high as praise comes from a ten-year old bicyclist.

All that flitters is not a goldfinch

In the late spring there was a beautiful pair of goldfinches that could often be seen around the yard together. The birdfeeder in our youngest ash tree only accepts small birds, and they tended to prefer that one. Since then one of the birds left and the other one has remained. It has a dull coat, but I don't know if that means if it is the female or if the male has lost his bright plumage since the end of mating season. Whichever one it is, it spends much time in the trees or at the feeder by itself, but occasionally comes to peck at our windows. It will flitter at the bottom of the window for minutes at a time, tapping its beak against the glass. At first I thought it was trying to get in, but earlier this morning I saw it doing the same thing to the sideview mirror of our neighbors' Jaguar. I suppose this whole time its been seeing not what's inside, but what's reflected from the outside—namely its own reflection. I think it's a very lonely bird.

Intriguing Product

We had a Forth of July party at work yesterday, potluck style. I brought in puppy chow (the well-known chocolate Chex cereal concoction), which competed with a large number of deserts. Perhaps the best thing I tried was an excellent jarred salsa. I was pleased to see that it was a local product to boot.

The ninth intriguing product is Salsa Lisa.

London, Illinois

Apparently my school selected suitemate Jared London will not be attending Syracuse after all. I talked to his mother this morning, and she informed me that he will be going to the University of Illinois. I don't know what he will be studying. I think I'll be calling the housing department soon to see if a new name is available.

Beginning

This evening marked the official end to my being "single," something that I've been since 23 January 2004. Who has set me free from this label? I suspect any regular reader could guess that it's Claire.

Botany refresher

Claire and I went to the Weisman Art Museum this morning. We went specifically to see Fresh Cuts, which was billed as "an international exhibition of the American Society of Botanical Artists." We both enjoyed it a great deal, and Claire helped me summon some botany terms from the dusty corners of my memory. I'd like very much to relearn what I knew in the fall of 2003, especially now that I'm so enthusiastic about someone who's enthusiastic about plant biology.

We both particularity appreciated a watercolor of rhubarb by Maine artist Hillary Parker. My favorite piece of the day, however, came from the West! Frank Gehry and the Artists of Venice Beach, 1962-1978 exhibit. Guy Dill's 1971 work Untitled (17 Wood Blocks), a fascinating sculpture held together by tension in the ropes and friction between the blocks.

Heat

It looks like we're in for a hot one today. The temperature is rising so fast that I can stand and watch the tenths-place on the (digital) thermometer change. The predicted high for the day is 95, and the heat index is expected to surpass 100 easily. I suspect the beach will be packed, numerous parents will loose their children, and I'll come home absolutely exhausted. I much preferred the cold and stormy conditions we had on Monday; lightning kept us closed for much of the day, and no one returned to the water afterwards. I figure I got paid a dollar a minute for the time I was actually working. I suppose the slow days and the insane days balance each other out.

Changes

Today marked my first full day of work as a lifeguard at the Elm Creek Park Reserve swim pond (which is generally far more pleasant than my job at the Maple Grove Community Center pool). I also learned that I will be living with a fellow named Jared London next year. I was given a phone number; I'm hoping I can call him sometime this week.

III

Claire and I just returned from Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. It seemed long and every scene with Natalie Portman was cringewothry, but I liked it on a whole. The actor playing Skywalker did a very good job (somewhat better than he did in Episode II and much better than the child actor did in Episode I).

Service

One of the unfortunate results of my decision to drop out of high school after my sophomore year (to attend college) was that I missed out on the National Honors Society activities. Since I had dropped out of my church even earlier, I really never did much community service. I've always prided myself on being involved in my educational communities: I was a greeter and pass-runner in junior high; I assisted my Spanish teacher in senior high; I was a resident assistant at Simon's Rock and involved myself in numerous aspects of campus life; I ran the Honors Student Organization film society for one semester at Madison. But other than working on Simon's Rock's adopted highway, I haven't done much of the kind of community service that most résumé-conscious students do.

Tonight, I made a first step to amend that. My family's church (and probably the only church with which I will ever feel any connection), Pilgrim's United Church of Christ, hosted a banquet for the school district's Special Education Parental Advisory Council. The over the course of the two-hour affair a number of community members were honored for their contribution to the lives of students with special needs. About ten members of the church served a dinner of homemade spaghetti with Olive Garden salad and breadsticks to the entire group of about seventy people. My family of four were actually the only servers (the rest cooked and washed dishes), and I think we did a pretty decent job. Our whole family wore black pants and white shirts, and I think it made up for our somewhat unprofessional technique. My mom had drilled us on proper serving technique in the car on the way over, but the tables were too cramped for us to actually follow etiquette. We were also hampered by the less-that-ideal planning, which meant that we had to wash and reuse utensils a number of times throughout the meal. Fortunately, the nature of the dinner/presentation gave us the time we needed. My feet are sore, but it was a rewarding experience.

Last Letters

All of my grades have been posted. I received an 'AB' in James Joyce; I'm quite pleased with that since the course was not recommended for anyone but advanced English majors. My GPA for the semester was 3.647, which raised my cumulative GPA to 3.569, which isn't up to my Simon's Rock level (stemming from the combination of harder math classes and the replacement of the 3.667 'A-' with the 3.500 'AB'), but it's not shabby either.

Caffeination

I worked a shift at the Osseo Junior High School pool this evening. It's not my favorite job since its a number of uninterrupted hours of sitting in the same chair watching swimming lessons, but tonight was at least made interesting by one of the assistant instructors. When I arrived she was conversing with her co-workers:

AMY: So, I had six Mountain Dews and two Caribou Coffees.
KYLE: All today?
AMY: Yeah. I'm so wired, but I think its wearing off. I'm just happy I'm not pregnant.

A few hours later, Amy walked by my stand.

JAMES: How's your caffeine fix holding up?
AMY: It's pretty much gone. I'm so tired.
JAMES: At least you'll sleep well tonight.
AMY: I won't though.
JAMES: Why not?
AMY: I'm afraid of the dark.
JAMES: That'll do it.

Wine Instead Of Bourbon

I'm home, and although I don't have all my grades yet I suspect I've graduated from college. In 16-18 weeks my parents should find in their mail a diploma that proclaims that I hold a Bachelor of Arts in mathematics.

I know that bourbon is the drink for a college graduate (when he's not being seduced by Mrs. Robinson or scuba diving in the backyard pool), wine is more to my liking. Breaking from our pleasant trip home, my dad and I took a tour of Wollersheim Winery, a vineyard not far outside of Madison which was founded by the same man who founded the first vineyard in the Sonoma Valley in California. The tour concluded with a wine tasting, and I tried five wines starting with a chardonnay and ending with a port. I helped my dad with the shopping, and he was kind enough to buy a bottle of the port at my request. I was rather tired from a very short night of sleep (90 minutes), so we kept the music going to stay awake during the drive back. We played Nine Inch Nails, Dave Matthew Band, The Smashing Pumpkins, and CAKE, so I was happy despite my drowsiness.

I'm not sure how often I'll be posting this summer, but I suspect it will be somewhat less frequent than I do during the school year.

[I didn't mention the tasting in the first draft of this post since I wasn't sure if I should have been carded, but it seems that Wisconsin state law allows minors to consume alcohol in the presence of their parents independent of location, a somewhat looser exception to the drinking age than that to which I'm accustomed here in Minnesota. Thanks to Claire with her unsettling extensive knowledge of drinking laws for the tip.]

A Needed Pick-Me-Up

Despite taking my preparatory studying seriously, the Cryptography exam was still like a sledgehammer to the face. I actually took a moment to calculate the exam's probable affect on my GPA. (I still expect to graduate.)

On my way back from the exam I popped into to Walgreens to buy a 16 oz. "double size" can of ROCKST★R Energy Drink, which I discovered during the finals period last December was a caffeine source much to my liking. As I continued back toward the Highlander, I ran into a stand with people handing out free 8.4 oz cans of the same stuff. I asked the guy who handed me a can, "Where were you when I was down the street buying a big can?" He looked surprised and asked me if I had the can on me, which, of course, I did. I showed him and he told me I could have either a t-shirt or a cap. I'm not a cap guy, so I took a t-shirt, which actually looks pretty cool. It was a pick-me-up without the caffeine.

(I note that the Oxford English Dictionary uses a quotation from Ulysses as an example for a very different definition of 'pick-me-up':

2. A woman who readily allows herself to be picked up; a prostitute. Cf. PICK-UP n. 3. 1922 JOYCE Ulysses 49 She lives in Leeson park, with a grief and kickshaws, a lady of letters. Talk that to some else, Stevie: a pickmeup.

which comes from lines 3.429-430 in the Gabler edition.)

Back From The Windy City

I'm back from my thirty-hour trip to Chicago. After the show I caught the Blue Line to Washington, then transferred to the Red Line, which I took to 47th, where I took the #15 Bus to Hyde Park. It was an interesting trip, taking me through a variety of socio-economic regions. The neighborhood where the Congress is located isn't great, and I was glad to be amid a stream of departing concert-goers. I'm pretty comfortable on the trains, but the bus was a pretty intimidating place. I was the only white face of twenty or so people, and I was essential unable to understand the other passengers because of their South Side dialect. Eric, fortunately, had given me very good instructions to his place, and I got there without incident or even having to pause to get my bearings.

It was good to see Eric again, and I took him to a diner for breakfast this morning to repay him for the use of his couch and the hours of sleep I cost him. We said our goodbyes, and I caught the #15 to the Green Line, which I took up to the Loop. I met my freshman-year roommate Kyle and his long-time girlfriend Megan in Millennium Park. We spent our time together wandering through the starting grounds of an impressively-sized Polish independence parade, visiting the Shedd Aquarium, and eating stuffed pizza at my usual Giordano's.

My bus ride on Friday had been late due to a combination of the time needed to load a wheelchair-bound passenger and serious congestion in the Chicago area, but the return trip was quiet and speedy. Amanda and Leah, the two RAs on my floor, greeted me as soon as I walked in the door, asking how the concert went, and it felt good to be back.

Broken/Fixed

I saw Nine Inch Nails at the Congress Theater in Chicago on this evening. The venue was quite nice; although it needed to be repainted, it was good enough shape that it seemed "historic" rather than just "old." The audience of about twenty-six hundred felt just right. This was my first concert with general admission seating, and I was apprehensive about ending up in the back corner, but it turned out to be just fine. Actually, there were definite advantages to the approach. The head-banging, fist-pumping fans settled to the main floor, and the less active, lets-watch-and-listen fans drifted to the balcony. I was quite pleased with my seat in the second row, which allowed me to watch the show and the fans below. I was close enough to distinguish band members, but not see facial expressions.

The Dresden Dolls opened, and I found them to be as enjoyable live as in their studio release. I knew that vocalist/pianist Amanda Palmer put on quite the dramatic act, but I was surprised by the showmanship of percussionist Brian Viglione. An entire ballet was performed between his shoulders and the tips of his drumsticks. It was a joy to watch him (whenever I wasn't being distracted by Amanda's gymnastic, striped-stockinged legs, that is). I was quite pleased to hear "Coin Operated Boy" and "Half Jack," and I enjoyed both covers they performed.

Good Day
Gravity
War Pigs (Black Sabbath)
Missed Me
Coin-Operated Boy
Port Of Amsterdam (Jacques Brel)
Half Jack
Girl Anachronism

The NIN set was marred by technical difficulties. Reznor's microphone was the only thing properly miked, so the "The Frail" was all but completely lost, and "The Wretched" was pretty much drumming and vocals. I was disappointed that the songs were not repeated properly. I wouldn't be surprised if Trent Reznor had been screaming at people backstage, but to the audience he was humble and apologetic regarding the technical difficulties. I was also disappointed that the set included so few tracks from With Teeth, especially since I so enjoyed what few songs did make it into the show. Highlights of the show included the performance of "Home," the vinyl-only b-side for "The Hand That Feeds," and "With Teeth," during which Reznor actually played tambourine. "Piggy" had an enjoyable extended outro, and "Closer" included an instrumental which I believe may have been borrowed from "The Only Time."

The Frail
The Wretched
[remedial sound check]
Wish
March Of The Pigs
The Line Begins To Blur
Piggy
Terrible Lie
Burn
With Teeth
Closer
Home
Reptile
The Big Come Down
Gave Up
The Day The World Went Away
Suck
Hurt
The Hand That Feeds
Head Like A Hole

The was no encore, but I understand this is normal for NIN.

Sinking De Mayo

I had my last James Joyce class today; I'm feeling more down about it than I expected. Ulysses buoyed up my spirits during my loneliest moments this semester, and I haven't gotten to know my classmates so well in any other course since I left Simon's Rock. I feel like a simple letter grade, even a good one, is an unsatisfying conclusion.

For Hitler...And Germany!

Sarah and I just returned from a highly enjoyable evening of singing, dancing, and swastikas, which is to say that we just returned from a production of Mel Brooks's Broadway hit The Producers. We were in row N of the third balcony, our backs to the wall and our eyes cast rather far downward. No, our seats weren't the best, but for the ten dollars I paid for each ticket, I can't complain. (The Honors Student Organization picked up the other 23.50 that comprised the group-rate price.) The musical isn't really my format, but this one was funny enough for me to forgive the long stretches of singing and dancing.

This week reminds me of the first week of May 2003, when I saw Ballet Hispanico on Friday 2 and Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds on Monday 5. Hopefully this week's second musical event, Nine Inch Nails and the Dresden Dolls, will be as enjoyable.

B$3,603.97

Apparently someone (probably an automated bot) thinks my lil' ol' blog has some marketable value. I'm skeptical. Check out my BlogShares page.

Intriguing Product

I think I've probably eaten less than a quarter-pound beef since 16 February, when we had our "Industrial Meat Production, Health, & the Environment" lecture in Environmental Conservation. The amount of antibiotics given to cattle in the U.S. during normal production techniques is disgustingly high, even in comparison to pork or chicken production. Fortunately, there's hope that I'll be able to enjoy a filet mignon this summer.

The eighth intriguing product is Napa Free-Range Beef.

Hope

Claire is single today.

Word Art

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