Adventures in the Colonial 'burg: August 2008

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Ellen is working hard today...

Ellen is at work right now. And she wrote me this:

There once was a man named Topher
Who disagreed that he looked like a gopher
Although he had hair
All over to scare
He refused to hide with his chauffeur.

And they say academics never work.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Of all things...

I should let Corbett post about this but the chances of that are unlikely (well, he has posted 2 out of 60 posts...). There's a lot to say but I'll make it quick (sort of).

We got up to New York on Thursday, to find Corbett's apartment in good shape. Except it was missing his bed. Yes, you read that right, his bed. In its place was a cheapy $50 mattress and no boxspring on top of his bed frame. Long story short: The subletter says he took out Corbett's bed to replace it with a queen while he was living there and "thought he put the right one back." I don't even have to go into how many things are wrong with this story. Corbett gave him until today to get his bed back to him or he's using the deposit to buy a new one. I'll keep you posted.

I came back to the 'burg Sunday after an as-usual exhausting drive (I'm losing patience for long drives, and I now understand why my parents would rather take many more days to get somewhere if it meant less time in the car each day). I'm proud because both yesterday and today I biked to campus, which I will do at least three times a week, and depending on how I feel tomorrow, I may bike again. That is up in the air because I have to teach and I'm not sure I want to be the "sweaty teacher" tomorrow. Give them a week to come up with some other point of mockery, then I can become sweaty.

Ugh. That's all for now.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Gotta get there...

Remember when you couldn't get somewhere fast enough as a kid? As a child, one of the things my mother probably said too many times was, "Slow down!" or "Stop running!" But she didn't understand how much of a rush I was in. Clearly whatever I was going to was more exciting than where I had been. Getting off the school bus, I would run across the street and up the driveway into the house. Checking the mail for my parents I would run. I would run hurriedly throughout the house, because come on, it was fun and I had places to be.

Similarly, I would run up stairs, taking two and often three steps at a time. I'd leap down stairs in the same way. This is what makes me think of this childhood behavior. While I very rarely run anywhere, I do take steps two and still sometimes three at a time. This comes across (to me, anyway) as somewhat childish, and I wonder if this would be yet another defining moment of "becoming a real adult." I look at others my age, and they don't seem to go up stairs this way.

Well, whatever, I can't stop this behavior. I tried doing it just now and it didn't work. It failed just miserably. Alas.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Friday lull

After an almost too relaxing lunch in the park with S&C, I'm having a hard time getting back into work. Luckily, I can get a bunch of things done that are rather mind-numbingly boring but essential. This way, I can be productive without too much effort.

Anything interesting happening? Not really. It's yet another weekend, probably Corbett's last in the 'burg, which is sad. But we knew it was coming, and he has to teach in the fall. This really just means we have to make the most of our remaining days together. Yup yup. Excitement!

CW anyone?

Thursday, August 14, 2008

With or Without You

The U2 song which gives us our title today always makes me sad, and it has for over 12 years now. This is a flashback to days long gone by, long before I even had the 'burg in my mind. Back in college, in Dallas.

It's February, 1996, not long before Valentine's Day. I was, as far as my very right Christian friends were concerned, single.* Of course, they were all as well (but for real), so we all had decided to go to the campus "Valentine's Day Dinner" as a large group of fourteen (you had to buy tickets in pairs). Among the fourteen was Karen.

Karen was by far my best friend at the time, to the point where everyone was wondering why nothing had happened between us (that didn't last too long). In fact, there was a brief period in the fall that got me very confused, because I started convincing myself that there was something between us and I wasn't gay. This, just FYI, is what happens when one is raised to believe that only one thing is "right." One of those moments was actually at a school dance, where we danced to this very U2 song, With or Without You. Either way though, she remained my best friend all year, and even throughout our sophomore year.

The day before Valentine's day, Karen's father passed away. He had been battling leukemia for a long time, and was in his 70's, so it wasn't necessarily a surprise, but of course it sent us all reeling. I remember feeling very torn up inside, and I had never met him, I could only imagine how Karen was feeling. (This is one thing I sort of miss about college, the fact that you become so very close to people that when things like this happen, everyone falls apart. Just as when great things happens, it affects you so strongly as well.)

Karen flew home to St. Louis on the fourteenth, and we couldn't find anyone who didn't have plans to come to our dinner. So we had only 13 people. Most of us weren't really up for it, but well, we went. The table we had was set up with six chairs on the long sides, one at the head, and at the foot of the table. I was sitting at the head, and the foot of the table was empty. That was Karen's chair, I couldn't help thinking.

No one really spoke much, except for those who weren't as close to Karen, and thus were trying to make conversation to get rid of the horrible awkward feeling around us. Then it happened. The band there played "With or Without You," and I couldn't handle it anymore. I thought of the night a few months before, and I thought of Karen, and how miserable life was for her at that moment, while we were all out, "having fun." I broke down.

This would be a more dramatic story if I had run out of the cafeteria, off to my room. I didn't. The dinner lasted probably another hour or so, and I didn't speak the rest of the time. Afterwards, I left without saying anything, and went back to my dorm.

I didn't sleep much that night, and now whenever I hear that damned song I think about this moment. I haven't spoken with Karen in years. Part of this came from us drifting apart when I fully came out in college, and she had issues dealing with it. Not to say she didn't try, and in fact she was always very loving, but it did break apart our closeness we had in those first two years of college. But also, she has since become a nun in a convent in Nashville. I hear updates about her every so often, but I'm not sure how much she hears about my life.

I hope she is doing well. I would like to think she wonders about me from time to time, although I imagine that will disappear as the decades pass us by.

-------------------------

*These were pre-out days, and my secret affair was very much a secret to every single person who knew me. Interestingly enough, the man with whom I was having the affair joined our group of fourteen attending the dinner that this story is about.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Arrogance

I'm getting more and more sick of the "arrogant ones" out there. Many exist everywhere, and quite a few in my field. The specific ones I am referring to are those who think that they know more about what you're working on than you do. These conversations usually involve the other person acting as though they've already thought about your stupid "new" idea that you're mentioning to them, and how could you not think about the pitfalls?

This, obviously, happened today, where the conversation went something like (I'll leave out the technical details):

Me (and a colleague): We have this idea to do this neat new thing with A, B, and C.
Him: Well, you have the problem with A [my field, not his], because it has these issues blah.
Us: No, that's not a problem at all because I know more than you [I didn't say that of course, just told him the flaw in his limited knowledge without sounding as arrogant as I sound now].
Him: Well, then there's B's problem.
Us: No, that's not how it works.
Him: Then C.
Us: No.

You get the idea. Ultimately he realized he didn't know what was going on, or at least he realized that although he's smart and knows a good amount of stuff, it doesn't mean he knows it all. Of course, he never admitted that, and never will.

Old VA joke

"How many Virginians does it take to change a light bulb?"

Give up?

"Three -- one to do it, and two to reminisce about how great the old one was."

Monday, August 11, 2008

To State College and back

We went up to State College, Pennsylvania this weekend for the last of the '08 summer weddings. This time it was Nico and Jessica. I've known Nico for about eight years now, since I was a second-year graduate student and he was an undergrad. He defended his dissertation recently and now has his PhD, so really I got to see Dr. Nico this weekend. I'm extremely proud of him, as he's got a post-doc at Princeton, and although he is the smart, hard-working, one, I feel as though I played some miniscule part in all of this. This is why I like teaching so much, one feels a tremendous sense of pride in the success of those that they taught.

The journey up was painful, as we got stuck in horrible traffic. Not near DC, mind you, entering Pennsylvania. It took us eight hours to get there, going west of DC, and we took a route through Baltimore, east of DC (see map), on the way back (which took 7 hours, and we stopped for over an hour in Baltimore and wandered around a bit). Luckily we made it back in time to get Dante from the kennel, and although he decided to tear up his blanket at the kennel, he seemed to be fine there. My measure of this is how much he eats, and he apparently ate every meal while there...

The wedding itself was nice, very calm, and we saw some people we had met before, so it wasn't like we knew no one. I got to see Nico's parents again, and they are just wonderful people. After the wedding there was a "post-party" in someone's hotel room, which was with the leftover beer from the reception, and involved me, Corbett, and two friends of Nico's from Penn State. It wasn't much of a party and there was too much beer for the four of us, but alas. The conversation had a very strange air about it, centered a lot on homosexuality and sex. This was not, as you may think, prompted by me (and of course not by Corbett), but by one of Nico's friends. I couldn't tell what his deal was, and most likely it was just his way of "seeming cool" with some gays. I am certain the conversation would have been different otherwise. There was a part of me that wondered if he was trying to say that while he was completely straight, he had either gay curiosities or interests. It is all very confusing, and in the end meaningless, as I doubt I'll ever see this guy again.

Friday, August 8, 2008

The phone

Chris and Sonya are both major phone talkers, and when combined with me, it can lead to a long conversation. I am in no way complaining, but I find so many people I know are not phone people nowadays. Quite a few people, when I'm on the phone with them, are nervous. Anxious. Awkward. (Okay, many of these people are physicists, but whatever.) The worst is the end of the call. Saying goodbye to some people can be nerve-wracking.

I have to say the best phone person for saying goodbye is Dustin. I'm really kind of bad, myself, because I always say a bunch of things. But I have gotten better. Why is Dustin the best? Because he makes saying goodbye on the phone like it is in the movies.

Me: Alright, I gotta go.
Him: Okay, bye, click.

No fuss, no muss. With others, say family, it's often:

Me: Alright, I should let you go.
Them: Okay, well you have a good night.
Me: You too.
Them: Oh, you know, I forgot to mention [insert new long topic here].
Me: Oh, that's interesting, but I really have to get going.
Them: Mmm-kay, love you.
Me: Love you too, goodnight.
Them: You too, don't let the bedbugs bite! [Incidentally, this is not a thing to joke about due to the outbreak of bedbugs in New York, and thus can be often a severe household fear even though we've never been stricken with them. It is also the first thing C checks for when we're at a hotel, just FYI. And anyway, who says this anymore?]
Me: I won't, bye.
Them: Buh-bye, behave yourself.
Me: You too, goodnight.
Them: Goodnight.
Me: Click

And that's a short one.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Corbett needs to stop wasting his morning.

This one is for you, Sonya. I never knew so many people on Google were talking about me! I'm so flattered...

Corbett needs to be reminded that Australians are quite hard to shame.
Corbett needs to learn what drove her mother to leave England for America and subsequently kill herself.
Corbett needs millions of dollars in improvements.
Corbett needs to join Michael Crichton in a class on how to read and cite scientific journal articles.
Corbett needs little introduction.
Corbett needs to be re-elected if he plans to run for governor in 2010.
Corbett needs to return to episodic TV and give up the whole music biz.
Corbett needs the growth which comes from moving into towns like Maleny for his share price to rise.
Corbett needs to use a wheelchair.
Corbett needs to get some cow manure on his boots to fully appreciate the problems that dairy farmers are facing.
Corbett needs to lose the side burns, but love the long hair. He sounds a lot like Tim McGraw.
Corbett needs to be poop-slapped!!
Corbett needs money to get his wandering wife, Zelda, back from a younger man, and he's offered $20,000 "just for pounding a telegraph key."

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

tagged

Sonya tagged me, but I'm not one to do these types of things when I'm tagged. I usually prefer a choice in the matter, so what should I do?

On the one hand, beautiful as she may be, is Sonya any better than anyone else who has tried to tag me? She'd say yes, of course, but my bitchy, spiteful side says otherwise. That side says some pretty nasty things that well, although this is not meant to be read by young children, I'm trying to clean up what I say/write.

On the other hand, Sonya got a little upset with me when I didn't send her a postcard from Mainz. There, again, was the above issue. I don't send my mother postcards anymore, or even Corbett, so why should I do that for her?

So you see, this is a conundrum. I get a bit of a kick out of making Sonya angry, but that's not the way a good friend should be. Right? So let's make a compromise. I will just write down one of the results that comes up when I google "Christopher needs" (note, though, that many results had to do with some person named Christopher Needs, so those confused me). Yes, it was from the first page of results, and yes I chose it specifically. I picked this one because it is so appropriate.

Christopher needs a life.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Clean!

I cleaned up my office some today. This was long since overdue. My desk had become a ridiculous pile of papers, many of which were former drafts of papers that have already been published. So the desk is clean, and there are other things that need to be organized but right now I'm just happy that it's no longer a pig sty.

There are also a ton of old equipment that are on the higher shelves in my office, that have been here for years, long before my arrival. I should have had a big clean fest when I first got here, but I didn't, and seeing as though I don't use all those shelves, I don't see the need to clean them off. If this were a permanent office, then that's a different story. The only time it's an issue is when Corbett comes by the office, which isn't all too often.

Next task on the agenda: Convince the universe to raise all air conditioners at least 3-4 degrees to 75 degrees so I don't freeze to death inside either my office or other public locations.

Friday, August 1, 2008

New competition

We've always had somewhat of a competitive society. Everytime someone says something along the lines of "I had the worst day...", someone else has to top it with, "That's nothing, wait'll you hear this..." The same two people can then have a competition about the best thing that has happened to them. Whether it's "the best" or "the worst," our motto is always "I can always top that."

The same goes for driving. It's a competitive activity, but with strangers. This type of activity in many places can in fact lead to road rage and other unappealing phenomena. However, I had this vision of a new experience this morning. A new competition which may or may not catch on. It could, I will say in advance, be completely in my head. However, as anyone who knows me can attest, that has never stopped me before.

I was at a light this morning, on my way to work. The light turned green, and as I've been trying to not be psycho and both waste gas and hurt my car, I did not gun it (of course, let's face it, it's a Hyundai, a vehicle which, at best, sounds like a dying cat if you "gun it"), but eased out of the intersection. The truck next to me did the same. My very first thought was, "Oh yeah, you think you can get out of this intersection slower than me?!" and I didn't really accelerate much more. Neither did he.

Of course, this could be just a fun game in my head, but I wonder. You see all sorts of headlines about "how to conserve gas" and what-not. Maybe this will be the new thing. Instead of people racing out of intersections, they'll go slower and slower and slower, until it takes forever for people to get through a light.

Well, if that happens, I'll be the first one to honk when I am three cars from the front and these people are going too slowly.