odd exchange

Young man, mid-20s, in a suit, 6:59 Friday evening, hovering near the exit with two well-dressed young women, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder at me as I try to close up the library for the night.

Finally, to me, "You went to Cornell, right?"

"No," I replied.

"Right. I didn't think so," he mumbled, blushing, and scurried out the door, well-dressed young women all a-twitter and fluttering in his wake.

I can't help but wonder who my doppelganger might be, wandering the wilderness of Ithaca.

shout out to nick, or, why i love freaks & geeks

Sam, Neil, & Bill Philosophize

Bill: She's the kind of woman you could cut the cheese in front of.

Sam: Oh yeah, Bill, that's what love is all about.

Bill: It is! I mean you couldn't be in love with someone, if you couldn't. Think about it.

Neil: That's true. I mean, you have to sleep with your wife every night of your life. If you couldn't blast one in bed, you'd get physically ill!

Sam: Oh come on, guys! You can't fart in front of a woman!

Bill: What do you think you do, get up and run outside every time you have to let one rip? You'd never get any sleep.

Freaks & Geeks, "Carded & Discarded"

into the wild, sunday afternoon, northern manhattan

chop shop, 9.8.07

sidewalk

wednesday, 9.12.07

Somehow in the craziness of work and the smallness of my everyday life, it escaped me that yesterday marked anything more than just another date. I got home last night, realized that I had written about the subway on my lunch break, this day of all days, remembered what in some ways I had forgotten, and cried. I read this week's issue of New York Magazine, which somehow I am still getting from Chris's Grandma Jean after all this time, and there was a story about America's Camp. My friend Maia, who stayed with me for a few days back in August, has been volunteering at America's Camp for the past five years. This is a woman of action, a woman I greatly admire, and I can only imagine the time she spends each summer with these children of the victims of 9/11 as a safe harbor for them, a bastion of sorts.

It is frightening, sometimes, to realize that life goes on, that we move further and further away from experiences that have so deeply shaped us. Maybe it is good, sometimes, to go back to where we were, to remember what ever it was that we were feeling, to realize how far we've come and to ground ourselves again, somehow, in where we are now.

My dear friend Cindy had a baby Monday night, and though I have yet to meet little Helen, I am holding her close to my heart, have been thinking of her and smiling ever since I got the news from John, Cindy's husband and another cherished friend to me.

9.12.01
Again today I am at a loss as to where to begin, at a loss for words, for meaning, in the midst of all this chaos and grief, rage and fear. I ended up staying at Columbia last night even though the subways were running again, even though I had planned to go home. It is easier to be with people right now, to be with people I love, and feels less vulnerable somehow, less exposed to danger. I couldn't sleep very well last night. I feel this incessant need to talk about all that has happened--the chaos, the grief, the rage, the fear, the gruesome terrifying details that are only now beginning to make it all seem real. Chris and Andrew and I went for a long walk last night, didn't get back until after three in the morning. The streets were nearly deserted, vacant, ominous, even for the middle of the night. Empty but for a few of the homeless, a few drunks, a few NYPD clusters standing anxious guard on intermittent corners. There were parking spaces on Broadway, and no traffic. We saw New Jersey State Troopers driving south on Broadway, surrounding flatbeds carrying demolition equipment. I woke up early this morning, left my brother's dorm at 7, ran in to Ritu's Jonathan out on the street, exchanged condolences, words of gratitude that we and ours are in tact. Ran into Chris, we got newspapers, sat on the steps for a little while in the sunshine, read of the attacks, drank juice and ate bagels. I went home to shower, change in to clean clothes, cried again while surfing through the TV stations for new news, something to combat this horror. I came back down to Columbia, met Nick for coffee, talked more. Came in to work. It is another beautiful day.

beloved A train

Yesterday marked the 75th anniversary of my dear and beloved A-train, longest subway line (31 miles!) in the great city of New York, cheapest route to JFK Airport ($2!), beginning at the very northern tip of Manhattan at 207th street (former home of a former huge crush of mine back in college days!), terminating all the way out at Far Rockaway (opening scene of overly melodramatic first novel by aforementioned crush!), immortalized in song by none other than Duke Ellington.

As one subway musician so very succinctly put it, "Ain't nothing like the A train."

A train, Ozone Park, Queens, c/o NY Times

beloved libation

One of my favorite wines, and one that I have brought to many a dinner party over the last couple of years, and will be bringing again this evening, just went on sale at Zachys. Palazzo della Torre. Yum.

going home, 9.6.07

'we're kicking ass' & other choice bon mots

Our illustrious leader's response to an inquiry from Australian Deputy Prime Minister Mark Vaile about how things are going in Iraq, on his recent sojourn to Sydney. Article here.

poor souter

An interesting snippet in Salon's War Room today about Justice Souter's reponse to Bush v. Gore, back in 2000.

latest obsession

I haven't even seen this yarn in person, but I've managed to fall in love with Fly Designs anyway, cyberwise at least. So if you happen to be in Seattle, check out this line at Little Knits and let me know if they're as gorgeous in real life as they look online.

who knew a body could move like that?

Nate and I were channel surfing the other night and stumbled on a fascinating, and fascinatingly beautiful, news snippet on a relatively new sport, parkour.

odds & ends VI

I dashed out of work early on Friday with my boss's blessing, caught the subway up to Marble Hill so quickly that I ended up on a 4:39 Metro North train instead of the 5:16, and was happily walking home with Cindy from the train station in Cold Spring by 6:05. Had a lovely time with Cindy and John, and am completely blown away by the fact that the next time I see them, they will be parents. And they seem so ready for it, so calm and assured, it's a wonder to behold. That wee little baby's going to be one of the luckiest babies in the world, in my book.

Their house is within walking distance of a great little yarn store, The Knitting Smith, where I, shockingly enough, spent too much money. But I found some absolutely gorgeous yarn. And I felted something, with Cindy's help and generous use of her washing machine, for the first time. Picture to come at a later date, once I decide whether or not to run it through the washer one more time.

Nick and I were discussing the sad state of current television recently, and sorely lamenting the lack of anything Joss Whedon, and he suggested I give Freaks & Geeks a try. I watched the first couple episodes last night, via Netflix of course, and it's pretty fantastic, at least if the uncomfortable high school awkwardness doesn't make you squirm too much.