growing pains

I have moved. But I have not moved the content from here. I am afraid. I am still learning, and working on the set-up over at the new place and it seems easier to leave good old sagro right here where she has been happy for almost a year. After all, moving is scary, no matter how nice and shiny and fancy the new place is.

I encourage you to come visit me at the new place. Check it out and let me know what you think.

a heavy hearted blogger

The next and what may be the last installment in my recent "farewell posts" on sagro:

My friend Anita died yesterday.

She lost a long battle with cancer.

She was loud. And she knew it. She was also a crutch for my soul. I knew the world was ultimately good when I thought about her. She was very likely the most generous person I know; with everything that she had to give: love, support, empathy, solidarity, money, time, kindness, coffee, or an ear. She was the only person you needed on your side when the odds were not in your favor. You felt like you had an army at your back with Anita at your side.

Losing Anita feels a little like I imagine it might feel to have my legs blown off, or more certainly like being punched in the stomach by someone much bigger than me.

making good

Smugness may not be attractive, but it sure is satisfying.

I said I would be working on the web-page thingy, and I did.

farewell mr. milkman

I stop at the local stopandgetrippedoff most mornings. The Garelick Farms milkman makes deliveries several times a week at the same time I stop to get my morning dose of Bergamot flavored caffeine in the form of Earl Grey tea. He has a habit of quietly complimenting me in over the top and ridiculous idioms. Cheesy pick-up lines, but more sincere.

I awkwardly smile and mumble thank you, and internally marvel at how astoundingly bad I am with compliments. Particularly when I know I was wearing the same outfit yesterday and there are definitely pillow marks on my face. The whole scene is nonsensical.

He was switched to a different route. And now, after all of my eye rolling, I secretly miss the silly feeling I got. I used to blame it on the infusion of caffeine, but the tea doesn't have the same effect without the milkman's niceties.

pumpkins, apples and jackets

The arrival of autumn in the northeast can be marked in several ways. We are all free to be on the lookout for our own personal indicator. Yesterday I discovered the coming of three of my chosen markers: artificial pumpkin patches in church yards and farm yards, apples, cold morning air that absolutely requires a jacket.

heyy youu gaeeysss

I think the internet is broken.

It's 3:45 (in the afternoon) and the last email I got was dated 10/13... as in yesterday.

consolation

Did you ever need (see: want) some consoling, but you really didn't "want to talk about it?" You know, just a little comforting without having to explain yourself.

The same propensity that drives sales of Star magazine, seems to cause people to have an agenda when providing consolation: they want to know the gory details of the tragedy that has you in need of consoling.

Well, there are no gory details. It's just been a manic week. Now I'd like a hug, please.

e v. P to the pain

Apparently I am dangerously ballsy when I am really hungry. I have been trying to limit my caloric intake a bit, which leaves me feeling hungry more often than I would like. I would like to have an uninterrupted, constant feeling of post-steak and cheesecake satiation, so being hungry ever is tragic as far as I am concerned, but I have been tolerating a bit of it in hopes of shrinking the waist (and poncho and lefty, for that matter) back to an acceptable size.

So, on Wednesday, when we had a lunchtime Community Meeting (i.e. open forum budget meeting) and I had not had anything to eat since the banana at breakfast, I was a little grumpy and fairly hungry. As the meeting progressed my stomach got that eating itself feeling.

A well spoken student got up and asked a question (the exact language of which I honestly can't remember because I was more interested in just catching the gist and then going back to worrying about whether it is possible for one's guts to actually implode from lack of sustenance), but the gist was: where are we spending money, and has anyone looked at administrative salaries. The President fielded the question by implying that "we" all got the same salary increases this year, and they were minimal, just as had been budgeted for...

Time for a little backstory: my beloved institute of higher education is in the throws of a very public budget crisis. As such, we are strapped in most every area. There is a hiring freeze in place, and staff and faculty salary increases were slashed. For a lot of us, it is the demoralization of having students under-served and frustrated that is more troublesome than the lack of a raise. Anyway, there is a rumor that the upper echelon of the Administration received substantial salary increases, while the rest of us were capped at 2.5% (for staff) and 4% (for faculty) Disclaimer: It is admittedly rumor! I claim to be absolutely certain about nothing other than my own salary increase and the cap for staff as reported in my annual letter.

So when the President implied that 'everyone got the same raise,' I just thought that to be far too misleading to go unchallenged. In the past, he has refused to answer any questions regarding his compensation, but his salary last year (which is a matter of public record) was large enough that even a meager a 2.5% increase would be more than half my salary and more than 16 times my salary increase. Even more to the point, the rumor is that he recieved a 17.72% increase. I could see the horror on the faces of my colleagues and students. These are people I see, enjoy and depend on every day. I like my job, a lot. Mostly because of the rocktastic people I get to work with.

I would like to claim that it was some premeditated defense of people I care about, but I suspect it was the grumpinees of being hungry that drove me to raise my hand. I got the microphone in my hand. I could here my voice being projected. I said something like this:

Students, I hear your frustrations and I would like to point out that there is a network of support staff here to help. We are here to support the University and you guys. That is what we do. Although, it has become increasingly difficult with hiring freezes and considering that, as is my understanding, our salary increases were capped at 2.5 percent which is at or more likely below the rate of inflation for this year. So we are making less this year than last. [looking to the President] So you say that we all got the same raises, I got 2.5%, I'm curious, what did you get? [pointing at the President]

Oh, the gasps, and squeals of delight, and jaws agape! The room erupted. It was magnificent. I was instantly mortified, but stood my ground. He responded with a non-answer, saying that all questions regarding his compensation be directed to the Board. But man-oh-man the fall out that has ensued!

Students are riled up, faculty have been congratulating me, staff members are singing my name. Its ridiculous. I had no intention of politicizing myself, I was just hungry and grumpy. But, I also felt that someone in a position of ultimate authority was misleading students and demoralizing my colleagues, and I am the sort to defend to the pain. Hopefully something good will come of this and students will get better services and faculty will be appreciated and staff will gain some dignity back. We deserve better.

Moral: I am dangerous when hungry

just plain giggly

For no apparent reason.

I giggled all the way to work this morning. Grinning madly, driving along dancing in my seat, windows down, music up, I must have been ridiculous looking, but man, did I feel great! I love those days.

I blame it mostly on the music. When I started the car my latest favorite feel-good song (Fidelity, Regina Spektor off of her latest album Begin to Hope) was queued up. I have been prone to giddiness lately and hearing a great, great song just put me over the edge. I went from a little bit glowy to outright foolishness faster than my beloved SAAB could hit 60, which is pretty fast especially when I am driving.

When my brain is tending towards a particular affect, music can intensify that feeling and cause it to metastasize and materialize. When I am feeling gloomy, if left in quiet I might not show it. But play a rich, velvety, intense piece of music (e.g. Hayes Carll, Long Way Home) and I might cry. Inversely, if I am feeling good and I hear a light, fun, pop-y piece (e.g. Beirut, Scenic World) I get downright silly.

I have been spending Sunday evenings at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in Harlem. I go to the Evensong service, in which a friend (who is a professional opera singer) along with a handful of other professional singers, sings the majority of the service. I go and sit in the big, regal pews right behind the choir. I close my eyes and the music seems to fill me. My lungs feel expanded and my gut warmed, the back of my throat rounded and my scalp stretched and tingley. The music bouncing around in that massive and wonderful space reliably causes my eyes to well up. Each week I leave the cathedral warmed and calmed.

Music enriches my life. Very few things can affect me so simply, instantly, with such ease, and so very intensely. Horray for music!

sad sad day in baseball

I heard about this when my dad IMed me in the middle of the day to let me know he was alright.

Cory Lidle, was by all accounts a great guy in addition to being a pretty respectable pitcher. I was a fan.

stellar timing on my part

I have really super good timing; socially, academically, in all different kinds of planning, speaking doing, I am generally in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some recent examples of my good timing: I decided to go to Boston for the first time(!) on the weekend of October 21st, which I picked for convenience for me and because the New England leaves ought to be beautiful then. As it turns out that is the weekend of the Head of The Charles regatta. Which might be interesting if 1. I was interested in boats 2. I didn't mind crowds.

Another example of my good timing: Modest Mouse plays NYC the 13th-18th. I will be in California from the 15th on. So the only show I could possibly go to is the 13th which is at Nokia. I don't do those kind of shows. (Additionally, Modest Mouse will be in California right before they come to NY.)

UPDATE: I just got an email regarding a musician friend of a friend. He is playing NYC on Sunday the 22nd at 8:30. I am away that weekend. Although I do get in on Sunday evening, at 9:45, just in time to miss the show. But if anyone with better timing than me is in NYC on the 22nd, go see Jeff Miller: 8:30 pm Googie's Lounge (upstairs at the Living Room) 154 Ludlow Street (between Staunton and Rivington) $5 suggested tip jar (212) 533-7235 --http://www.livingroomny.com -- 21+ show (unless accompanied by a guardian)

rejuvenated

ohboy! (It seems that the more interesting stuff I have to blog about, the less time I have to blog.) I participated in the organization of a conference on the life and work of Harriet Jacobs over the weekend. What it meant for me was 13 hour work days, in a suit, on my feet, smiling at strangers. It wasn't so bad really. Partially thanks to this woman, Mende Nazer. She was a panelist and I was her attendant while she was in NYC. She is the embodiment of kindness, forgiveness and hope.

We went shopping. We went sight seeing. We laughed. We had fun hanging out in NYC.

My thoughts on Ms. Nazer have not sloshed around in my head long enough yet. They are still raw and unmixed. But I do know that meeting her has given me new fervor in my work to bring attention to the existence of slavery today. This wonderful woman is an escaped slave. She experienced horrors brought upon her by other human beings that should not be tolerated in the world today. It is unacceptable.

public radio rocks

National Public Radio is very possibly almost the greatest source of neat information, second only to Wikipedia.

Yesterday All Things Considered reviewed the Decemberists' new album.

cheese nibbles

I took the always stellar advice of joe (foodienyc guy) and stopped at Artisanal, which has a satellite store/restaurant right at the top of my subway stop on the way to my midtown school. How thoughtful of them! So I stopped and picked up some 4 year aged Gouda on Joe's recommendation.

I purchased a chunk of it. It came neatly wrapped in paper in a handled, miniature brown shopping bag. I walked to school, all the while thinking about the little gem of dairy product in the cute, little brown paper bag in my hand. When I got to class, I was the first one there so I busted out the cheese wrapped in paper.

It crumbled into large, creamy, butterscotch colored chunks. It was so stupidly good that I continued to knock bits off the block, lay them on my tongue and let the velvetiness melt in my mouth throughout class. The cheese was so heavenly that I shamelessly noshed on it right there in the classroom. I spoke between morsels. At one point I was so overcome by the deliciousness, that I excused myself "to the ladies room," and posted a comment on foodienyc about how delicious it was.

...so good that I was blog-commenting on its goodness while eating it, during class. Yeah, I'm an exemplary doctoral student.

remembering with pictures

Just a few from the Alamo ...more to come.




They clearly need quite a bit of work, but I was so excited, I just threw these up straight off my camera.

a lot lot of Texas music

Thursday: fly into San Antonio and drive to Gruene, near New Braunfels, TX
Thursday night: Roger Marin and Mark Junger at Gruene Hall
Friday: drive to Austin, spend the day playing in Austin (stop along I-35 at the outlet mall for a little shopping)
Friday night: Sonny Landreth and Cindy Cashdollar at the Cactus Cafe
Saturday: drive back to Helotes, outside of San Antonio
Saturday all day: 11-11 Real American Music Fest (RAM Fest) 4 at Floores Country Store, musical highlights: Hayes Carll, Ray Wylie Hubbard, The Dedringers
Sunday: tourist stuff in San Antonio, the Alamo being the highlight
Sunday evening: fly home

I'm tired.

not original thoughts

writing on writing, something I haven't done in a while. I've been writing about the nonsense that is around me every day. I pay attention. I see things, some of it I notice. When I notice something peculiar it sets in motion a process that begins like that scene on the pirate ship in the Goonies, when the Fratellis grab the gold on the balance that Mikey wanted to leave for One Eyed Willie, remember that? And then the dusty, creaky, threads of the intricate booby trap start moving, slipping through the whining, old pulleys. Remember? Yeah, I do. And that's what my brain does when I see something interesting. Once it has started I can't stop it (hence the blog). So, here's the dilemma: sometimes the old pulleys and ropes fail to uncover anything worth dumping out of my head onto the page. But I have a solution.

I'm a thief. If I don't know how to say it, I go find someone who does, and *borrow*. If I read my archives I can point out the words, or phasing, or idioms that did not come straight from my own head. Sometimes I take a vague notion and sometimes I take entire phrases. I would feel really, really guilty about this (being an academic who is fanatical about proper referencing) but I had a writing teacher, well I've have a number of writing teachers, but one who told me explicitly that when I am writing creatively, steal! Take formats that I think work. Use words that resonate with me. Take phrasing I like and use it obsessively until it has my signature on it. I steal what I think I would say if I was more clever. I take the stolen bits, add them to my brain soup, shake, and pour into the chilled glass of this blog.

I have decided that it is a good thing. Stealing. It has made my writing infinitely better. It has also allowed me to try things out. It has allowed me to put my writing in front of other people. It has allowed me to write about things that would otherwise just race around inside my head kicking up dust. Stealing has been good for me and my writing.

more evidence of my awesomeness

I was about to leave for work this morning when I saw something awful, I needed to document it.

That's my life.

If you would like a closer view of the embarrassing amount of books that seem to have taken up residence on my bed:

Just in case this wasn't enough evidence that I have totally lost my edge, I may have spent my 8:00 hour captivated by some season premier of some teen drama on the CW.

sports fan

I do not attend enough sporting events.

I watch a fair amount of sports on television. If the t.v. is on it is tuned to either sports, the Food Network or Law and Order (although the Food Network has lost some of its standing in my house because, a. I don't need to be tempted to cook or eat, I do enough of that, and b. there are so many bad shows on the Food Network these days. The best shows are on PBS on the weekends: Ming, Mark Bittman, Rick Bayless, Lydia.) But I have not been to a single sporting event since the the end of last years baseball season.

I should note that, in agreement with many of my sports loving friends, I feel quite differently about the appeal of some sports on t.v. and their live appeal. College basketball is something that I kind of get interested in March, and the games on t.v. are entertaining enough, but a live NCAA game is fantastic. Ice Hockey on t.v. has the appeal of an ice cold spoon being held on my bare eyeball, but live hockey is pretty fun. I would be curious how boxing fares live. I like to watch boxing on t.v. (a bit unusual, I know), but given the amount of attention it demands I'm not sure if I could get into a match live. I might be too distracted.

I suppose I could go find out.