I Pity The Fool

I finished my results summary handout for my presentation on 12/9; 15 copies of it (@40 pages each, even double-sided will be quite a load) due tomorrow.  That is, today.  You heard it here first!  Unless you’re Euric, in which case you heard it from me half an hour ago on IM.

Now all that stands between Liz and DR. Liz are:

• results presentation (12/9)
• draft of Discussion section (also due 12/9)
• miscellaneous irrational revisions demanded by a certain supervisor (various)
• completed doctoral project (due by 12/25)
• and oh yes, that niggling little detail of another 7 months under the thumb of the Evil One…teeth gritted (I get the frig outta Dodge 6/30 and don’t think I won’t be counting down the days).

Alright, I’m getting less and less coherent.  I technically have to show up at the office tomorrow, not that there’s anything on my schedule.  In the meantime, time to crack my weary knuckles, tie up my manic hair, and get ready for bed.

Party on, Wayne.

Yesterday, my family and I (well, SOME of us) enjoyed our usual Thanksgiving Day tradition of sitting on the couch in our pajamas, watching the Macy’s parade on TV, and thinking of how absolutely delighted we are not to be there in person.  For anyone who doesn’t know, I was in the parade when I was 10, and it was possibly the worst day of my entire life.  For starters, it was the only Thanksgiving in my memory with actual snow; there may have been others with flurries, but in this case, there was already several inches of the white stuff on the sidewalk as my chorus-mates and I tromped to the schoolbus in the dark at 5:00 in the morning.  And it pretty much went downhill from there…

Anyhoo, there are a couple of other family traditions begun in recent years.  One is going through the mountain of catalogs received in recent months (though my mom and I generally do a fair job of winnowing them down by tossing the duplicates and the ones that contain nothing of sense or value), and marking off which items might be likely candidates for holiday gifts.  Now, I know this might sound materialistic, but we’re pragmatic people and since we’re going to buy each other presents anyway, we’d rather not waste our money on something that the recipient won’t actually like.  In fact, to ward off the possibility of this occuring with certain extended family members this year, my mom suggested we forgo the annual awkward, "Thanks, wow, I don’t know what to say about something like this!" with my grandmother and aunt, and instead go out to an activity together.

But I digress.  The other Thanksgiving tradition is going out to a restaurant.  Yes, I admit it: no one in my own family has cooked Thanksgiving dinner in something like 12 or 15 years.  The only time we’ve had the home-cooked stuff in recent history is when other people invite us over.  Many of my friends and acquaintances react to this information with alarm and/or pity, like I’ve just explained that my entire family are actually a bunch of orphans thrown together for convenience. =)  Honestly, there are some times when I romanticize about cooking the meal (maybe I will try it once I finish school), but the truth is, I can remember back in the day when people in my family did cook it.  It wasn’t very good.  My mom has also pointed out that no one wanted to do the clean-up, either.  So for years we’ve casted about, searching for the perfect ready-made, ambience-included, clean-up free environment in which to give thanks and glut ourselves.  And it seems we’ve found the answer: Eamonn Doran’s.  This is an Irish restaurant in downtown Brooklyn that provides a pretty good spread, and we’ve had our Thanksgiving dinner there for the past three or four T-Days.

The only thing we can’t seem to perfect is actually sitting down together as a family and enjoying one another’s company.  I might mention that more than one member of my family has a diagnosed mental illness, but that really doesn’t cover the clash of personalities and lack of polite conversation skills.  For example, my grandmother and aunt have a tendency to talk about my 15-year-old cousin, J., as if she’s not sitting right there to hear it.  Now admittedly, she can be a very difficult person to be around.  However, this time she was generally behaving (other than causing a bit of a tizzy amongst the waitstaff by requesting vegetarian food, while the only veggie dish on the prix fixe menu had pumpkin in it, which she doesn’t like), yet I actually witnessed the two of them push J. forward at the table, so they could talk about her behind her back, behind her back.  I commented, "Oh, that’s subtle."  None of the parties involved took notice.

My aunt was less crazy yesterday than the time a month or two ago when she yelled at me over pizza about how poor people don’t have to have poor diets because they can grow community gardens (um, on the 6th floor of Marcy Projects?), but still annoying.  So, what else is new?  At least this time I didn’t have to sit by her, though maybe that way I could have stopped her from hoarding the bread.

Lastly, I’ll mention the self-imposed "tradition" of holding off on listening to my holiday music until after Thanksgiving.  This isn’t really that hard, but I figure why play along with the commercialism.  And yes, I know I’m a little atheist Jew, but in fact, coming from a mixed family, we have always celebrated Christmas, and I expect to keep doing so.  Even my dad used to go carolling with our neighbors- the music is just…good.  So let the cheesy jingle-bell-rocking begin, and don’t worry- I have Hanukkah music too.

This is gonna be short, because I don’t think it’s necessarily cathartic to complain about work all the time (and I don’t know how much you want to keep reading about it).  Just wanted to briefly relate the latest tidbit of interaction with GodzillaBoss.  We had an all-day training with him on Friday, which was about as fun as getting my teeth cleaned.  He mainly behaved himself during the day (probably due to the presence of trainees from other agencies), aside from periodically breaking into weird, inappropriate, passive aggressive crocodile tears and protesting the imminent departure of P., one of the post-docs who’s recently given notice that she’ll be deserting this sinking ship.  Under the guise of being playful, GodzillaBoss made an ass out of himself, but what else is new. 

For the most part, he left C. and me alone, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t resist getting a jab in.  After loudly discussing the office situation with a new hire (who will be getting my supervisor’s old office), GodzillaBoss turned to me and announced that C. and I would be able to share the post-docs’ old office as of 12/5. 

I should mention that the office magestically bestowed upon us is the smallest one that’s opening up, with 2 desks, a mini-fridge, and a filing cabinet full of everyone else’s crap stuffed into it.  It’s really impractical for seeing patients in there, especially children or families.  So, aside from the fact that he was supposed to give us our own working space two months ago, I really didn’t see this as such a grand gesture.  Basically, it just means I won’t have to be carrying my coat and bag around with me all day anymore.

Besides the fact that I’d been in a tiny room with about 8 other people (including this creep) for the past several hours, AND had to stop by an visit a patient before I could do home, I wanted to avoid any missteps.  So my response was just, "Okay."  Out of the blue, he had a minor eruption, exclaiming that I should be thanking him profusely now that we’ll finally have our own space.  He bitterly protested my underenthusiasm, complaining, "…I’m a human being!  I respond to positivity!" (or something like that)…and I thought to myself, Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my tongue… 

Actually, at first I thought he was joking, since it seemed like such a random thing to say, plus he’d been making weird jokes all day long, he was dead serious.  I tell you, working here is like a goddamn barrel of monkeys, except instead of being cute and funny the monkeys are disease-ridden and try to eat you.

Incredibly, this appears to be my 50th post to I Pity the Fool.  And here I thought I wouldn’t have enough to say!

Arrested Development

Sorry to be irrelevant and pop culture-dependent, but I need to bring up Arrested Development (the show, not the early-90s band).  I can’t believe I didn’t discover this show til this past summer, and now they’re taking it off the air.  What can you expect- they go by the ratings, but they don’t monitor what any actually intelligent people like to watch on TV.  You don’t believe me?  Go ahead and try to find out exactly who all those "Nielsen" families are.  I guarantee you they try to find the dumbest, most mainstream people, all of whom most likely prefer to watch the Teen Choice Awards and reruns of Trading Spaces, and think they’re transgressive and sassy if they dare to tune in to Sex and the City.  No offense if you liked that show, but that piece of crap was on for 6 (I think?) whole seasons and wasn’t half as amusing as Arrested Development.

Okay, enough ranting I guess.

Summarily

Does anybody want to hear more about my trip to CA?  I’ve been meaning to write about it for a week already but have been kind of bogged down with dissertation, ear infections, and the hellish joke that is my internship.  Since I don’t know how many people care who haven’t already heard about this, I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version.

The best thing is that I got to do everything I wanted to do, and see just about everyone I wanted to see, without feeling like I was rushing around.

Firstly, I had an awesome weekend in the Sacramento area, despite all forewarnings.  And yes, the historical part of Sacramento is called “Old Sac,” which must be the source of countless junior high school jokes (and yes, I snickered at it as well).  My cousin D. and his wife R. took me to see the local attractions, such as Sutter’s Mill and Placerville (I learned from a tourbook that this used to be called “Hangtown” due to the unusually high rate of “pine tree justice” doled out to hooligan prospectors and other malcontents in the 19th century).  Also, we went to a pumpkin-carving party, where an outrageous 7-year-old gave me excellent advice on carving the teeth for my Cheshire Cat jack-o-lantern.

During the week, I met up with college friends in Oakland, Berkeley, and San Francisco, taking in the few sights that I hadn’t seen on previous trips to the Bay Area.  I highly recommend Alcatraz and the audio tour, though of course it’s not quite as colorful as “Vicky’s” information in the movie, So I Married an Axe Murderer…if you’ve seen it, you know what I mean…if not, see it.  I also got to eat clam chowder from a bowl made out of bread (a favorite memory from previous visits) and see the new deYoung Museum, also highly recommended.  I would highly recommend my friend A. as a consummate host, having showed me an excellent time in Berkeley, except he’s not running a hotel.  Or a nudist colony, as he made sure to remind me in a voicemail.

I rendezvoused with various blasts from my past, including cousins I’d seen three years ago (but before that, maybe not for 10 or 15 years), and a penpal from high school.  Plus, I got to meet some cool new folks as well, who have an open invitation to crash at my place should they find themselves in NYC.  I saw a freshly beheaded fish at a Chinese supermarket, its eyes cloudy but its fins still wiggling.  I dressed up as a sock monkey for Halloween with a hat I made myself (despite having my miniscule scissors confiscated at JFK upon departure).  Another of my Halloween crew was dressed as a "monkey with fez" and together we chased a guy wearing a banana costume.  Boy do I wish I had a picture of that, but it was either record it or participate, and I just couldn’t hold back.

The vacation ended memorably with a hotel stay at the Sheraton…I shared a room with D. and R., who graciously endured my snoring during the exposition of my sinus/ear infection…and the icing on the cake occurred at our breakfast just before we went to the airport.  We had a little difficulty finding a place in SoMa that was open on Sunday morning (what is UP with that, Californians?), but were richly rewarded when we stumbled upon a reasonably priced eatery with a surprise.  Aside from it being owned by real Italians (I got to practice a little), who was sitting there, being interviewed on live TV, but none other than former SF mayor Willie Brown!  Most of the discussion is not worth detailing, but for this little tidbit while they were on a commercial break:

Willie Brown- “Why do I need to remember stuff I did yesterday?!  If I’m gonna write a book, I’ll just make shit up!”

Classic.  My cousins and I were on TV in the background too, incidentally.

Lastly, and sort of out of temporal order, I’ll mention a film I saw while there.  We thought Everything is Illuminated would be a comedy, which it definitely wasn’t, but it was still rather thought-provoking and definitely worth seeing.  The book’s been on my list for years already now anyway.  Furthermore, it fueled my newfound obsession with Eugene Hutz, and thus, Gogol Bordello…

On the Subject of Gogol Bordello

After listening to Gypsy Punks for the majority of the weekend, I feel I can now reasonably say I’m hooked, and I think some of you would get a big kick out of it too.  There’s one song where the lead singer, who’s Ukrainian, sings in Italian and almost the whole thing is an outstanding stream of profanity- very amusing.

They played in a big and very expensive lineup at the Gypsy festival on the night I got back from CA, and their next shows in the area are in Long Island and Atlantic City.  The latter seemed possibly doable, but I have sorta decided not to trek down there.  It’s the night before Thanksgiving, Atlantic City is pretty far away from NYC, plus I think they are playing second fiddle to Bad Religion and maybe another band too.  The ticket to the show isn’t that expensive, but I’d have to leave work early and take the bus or train…also, the show is at House Of Blues and I bet they have a drink minimum or something.

However, I found out that Gogol Bordello is actually based in NYC, so I imagine that once they finish their tour in Europe, they’ll be back here and much easier for me to see.  Alternately, I may wind up going to one of these events, where Hutz regularly DJs at a Bulgarian bar in Chinatown.

Anyway, this post wound up being a lot longer than I planned, probably because I had nothing else to do in the office (as usual).  Hey, time for lunch!

This is just a quick little anecdote.  This morning on the train, a slightly startling man plunked himself down next to me.  I hate to jump to conclusions, but while he didn’t look completely filthy, he was somewhat disheveled and toting a little rolling luggage carrier, with two large, cracked plastic containers on it.  I suppose they could have just as easily been full of construction or painting supplies, but it seemed rather late in the morning for a worker to be on the train with that kind of stuff. 

I made the assumption that he was probably homeless, and that the containers held all his worldly possessions.  I have nothing against homeless people, but I’ll admit I was a little wary about how he’d obtained his Ipod, beat-up as it was.  Inadvertently, I started a bit as he seated himself, and leaned a little to the opposite side, eyeing the device.  I didn’t like this about myself.  Was it my business?

At any rate, he was listening to it rather loudly, and I gradually realized he was just playing "I Got You Babe" over and over again.  Something about this was sad and beautiful to me.  I tried to smile at him, but he wouldn’t look at me.  What about this was poignant?  I don’t know, but it just seemed important enough to note.

Another election day has come and gone.  Which of the following did I do again?

a) Considered moving to Canada.

b) Noted that most people (at least those who actually vote) have a rather short memory.

c) Said to myself, "Get used to voting for (electoral) losers."

d) Said to myself, "At least he’s better than Giuliani."

e) All of the above.

Unsurprisingly, my choice for borough president didn’t win either.  I really hope that by some miracle, the Atlantic Yards project will implode as spectacularly as the program where I work.  I’m glad Corzine won NJ, though.

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The answer to the question is "e".

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Apropos of nothing, I have an ear infection again.  I have to get a chest x-ray, too.  Send get-well checks to…

Hey, Kids.  I’m back in NYC- fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it.  I had a great trip out west: I basically did everything I wanted to do, and saw pretty much everyone I wanted to see.  I might write a longer post about it later, but am finding myself to have a slight case of writer’s block (possibly due to being back in the oh-so-stimulating environment of the dark little swing office in our department at work).

In the meantime, I’ll share a couple of thoughts, starting with my actual trip out there:

Good luck: My cab driver friend Liz agreed to drive me to the airport. 

Bad luck: She didn’t exactly know how to get there, and a trip that usually takes about 45 minutes took twice as long. 

Good luck: She decided not to charge me the $40!  Also, I got shunted to the really short line for latecomers around the corner of the regular check-in lines.  Score! 

Bad luck: Got stuck on a long line at security, and then had my ridiculous little scissors confiscated (I had my crocheting stuff with me to work on my hat for my Halloween costume).  As Miss Hoover says on the Simpsons, "These scissors couldn’t cut butter!"  Yet somehow they seemed more lethal than my other sharp or poky implements.

Good luck: Although my plane was full, the one visible empty seat was next to me!  I was in the left-hand aisle seat of the middle row, and I said to the guy on the other side of the empty seat, "Look at that- we’re in first class!" 

Bad luck: It took almost an hour for us to leave the airport and take to the skies, (which ultimately delayed my arrival of course, as my cousin Marcia circled the SFO parking lots aimlessly).

Good luck: While the headphones on American Airlines cost $2, someone had previously bought some and left them (unused) in the seat pocket in front of me.

Bad luck: The movie they were showing was so lame I won’t even dignify it by mentioning its name.

Good luck: They played pretty good music though, so the headphones came in handy for that.

Bad luck: American also no longer serves cost-included meals (except maybe in First Class), and I didn’t know this before boarding the plane.  I had enough cash to buy a turkey sandwich, but they were all out by the time they reached me, and I had to purchase a "Snack Box."  Allow me to advise you to NEVER PURCHASE THE SNACK BOX.  Chips so salty they burned my lips and the paper cuts on my fingers; salsa the equivalent of tomato torture; inedible cheese dip; a "turkey stick" similar in manufacture to jerky but the consistency of tempeh…the only decent part was the Lorna Doone cookies.  I learned a lesson and brought food with me for the return flight.

More bad luck: When I finally got my suitcase off the baggage carousel, I discovered that they’d broken the handle you use to roll it, clean in half.  Apparently, American Airlines is not liable for this.  At least they gave me some tape to put it back together.

Still, I’d say that the extra space next to me and the free headphones were nice enough to get me off on the right foot for my vacation.  More later- ciao for now.