Running from the sound of a gun

I was walking to the Warehouse Sunday morning, and I saw that Fayette, my road of travel, was barricaded at both Salina and Clinton, but as the sidewalks were clear, I was able to continue on as normal.  I was expecting to see construction (as is often the case on weekend mornings), but I only found a few middle-aged women in purple shirts as I crossed Salina.  As I was about halfway between the streets, I heard a not-too-distant bang! and the sound of a crowd that had been silent moments before.  I realized that I must be in close proximity to the start of a race, and I thought about making a dash for the other side of Clinton, but I figured there might be cameras, and I had a 50-50 chance that the runners would be crossing behind me instead of before me.  As it was, the runners were in my way, but there were, in fact, plenty of cameras that I'm happy did not catch me crossing foolishly.  So I had to hold up for five minutes as the river of runners flowed past.

It proved to be an interesting populace to watch, as they were still sorted by ambition rather than speed and endurance.  The leaders were in sleek spandex suits, and they were followed closely by runners in shiny running shorts and athletic shirts and sports bras.  Behind them were a large crowd in t-shirts and track pants.  Here the number of iPods began increasing sharply.  Runners in sweatpants and sometimes in sweatshirts followed, and a number of goofy hats could be seen.  Lastly came a few older women, dressed in black, being followed closely by the ambulance.

Scissors cuts paper, questions unnerve architects

I went to the Syracuse Connective Corridor open formum yesterday.  Four teams of architects presented their visions for our city, and the audience submitted questions to a moderator who posed a few of them to the presenters.  I asked the second team about their ideas for preserving parking availability since their plan calls for the reclamation of a number of parking lots for green spaces.  After receiving the questions all members looked nervous, and one fellow said softly to his teammates, "Do we rock, paper, scissors for it?"

Indirect deposit

I'm trying to arrange a direct deposit of my TA stipend to my checking account. My initial attempt was foiled due to a shortage of forms at the TA Information Fair. Fortunately, I was told by the guy running the payroll table, I would be able to take care of the whole thing online at myslice.syr.edu. Unfortunately, I discovered today, I don't have access to employee on-line services for reasons unknown. Fortunately, I was able to find a printable PDF of the direct-deposit application which will serve the same purpose. Unfortunately, my printing account in the Warehouse has been deactivated until the school year begins, and there are no buses up to the main campus until that same time.

I've also been informed that the wireless network may be deactivated here in the Warehouse for the entire remaining week. I'm praying that doesn't happen, because I have no idea what I'll do if I'm without furniture, transportation, internet, and a grocery store for a whole week.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Over and out

The much anticipated letter from Columbia Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation was waiting for me on my desk when I returned from Milwaukee. I had Sarah look for me, and although she recited Psalm 4 and said three Hail Marys for me before she opened the envelope, the answer was, sadly and expectedly, 'no.' She took me out for a nice long walk around the capitol, and I felt better.

I'm going to be an Orangeman. Knowing is nice.