3.30.2005
paris
Times reflect the local time in Paris. Due to circumstances beyond my control, but generally regarding not being able to find internet access for my laptop, I was unable to update my blog posts live. Blog postings reflect, thus, the time and date that I wrote the entries, but all of them were posted back here in Oxford on Monday night.
Paris looks great even when it’s raining. It’s difficult not to love Paris, really. We flew in early this afternoon and the weather was gray but not rainy, a seriously welcome change from the drudgery of recent Oxford weather. Finding the hotel was easy enough, and Let’s Go Paris (an excellent publication) has been very helpful. We wandered outside and by the time we got to Les Invalides, the sun was sort of shining through the clouds. Just walking down the street, there’s so much incredible architecture. We passed by a beautiful Romanesque church: the church of Ste. Francois Xavier. The interior actually had little panels for each of the stations of the cross, the altar was amazingly ornate, and the interior of the dome at the transept was very densely ornamented. At the four corners were the four major prophets, over them, the eight minor prophets. Then on the interior of the dome itself were painted the twelve apostles. Not surprisingly, Barnabas had been substituted in for Judas. Les Invalides was closed when we arrived, but the gardens outside were a beautiful introduction to the parks of Paris.
On our way to Les Invalides, we were remarking how much of the architecture and the quiet streets could have been Boston’s Back Bay or New York’s Upper East side when suddenly we turned a corner and saw, over the rooftops, the tip of the Eiffel Tower. Certainly not something you see in America’s northeast.
The tower certainly doesn’t disappoint, and even though it’s my third time seeing it (consciously, there was a fourth when I was little, and while I have the drawing to prove that I saw it, I don’t actually remember it), it still takes my breath away. It certainly has a grace and style that is timeless and a sweep that is both elegant and remarkably structural. Unfortunately at that point, it started to rain. We walked to the underside of the tower and waited for the rain to subside, then went off in search of food.
Dinner was a lovely Italian affair at the Ristorante dell’ Angelo. I had a delicious spaghetti alio e olio e pepperoncino. Diana had the rigatoni arrabiata. We split a mixed appetizer, which was amazing. The spaghetti was just as I’d remembered it (from Italy, not as I remember cooking it myself – that was pretty awful): it was light, with a little hit of spice and then overwhelming garlic flavor. I have no doubt I’m going to smell of garlic for at least another day or two. Diana’s rigatoni was spicy and flavorful, not really my thing, but lovely nonetheless. I preferred my Chianti to her Bordeaux, but again, I think that just comes down to personal preference. The cheese platter (parmesan, gorgonzola, and some odd creamy goat cheese) was amazing. The parmesan, by far my favorite, had a real sweetness to it, completely unlike the sharp parmesan I’m used to from the US. The gorgonzola, again, was unlike what I was used to – creamy and pungent without being too sharp. Delicious. The goat cheese reminded me a lot of brie, but with a much stronger goats milk flavor. These were all served with a few shreds of lettuce drizzled in a really fruity and tasty extra-virgin olive oil and, inexplicably, a pat of butter, which I mistook for cheese, eating a large chunk of it plain. It is certainly true that French butter tastes unlike any other. Having never eaten butter of any nationality on its own, I can say that this French butter tasted much more strongly of butter than of cheese, which was what I was expecting. Seems natural, in retrospect, that butter should taste like butter.
A trip back to the Eiffel tower after dark was gorgeous too – at night it’s a beautiful bronze color, but there’s also a wonderful sparkle that happens every hour – flashbulbs start to go off and the entire tower starts to shimmer. It’s amazingly gorgeous, and was a real sight. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and we were able to linger and take in the tower. It’s been a long day, and I’m so looking forward to tomorrow.
Paris looks great even when it’s raining. It’s difficult not to love Paris, really. We flew in early this afternoon and the weather was gray but not rainy, a seriously welcome change from the drudgery of recent Oxford weather. Finding the hotel was easy enough, and Let’s Go Paris (an excellent publication) has been very helpful. We wandered outside and by the time we got to Les Invalides, the sun was sort of shining through the clouds. Just walking down the street, there’s so much incredible architecture. We passed by a beautiful Romanesque church: the church of Ste. Francois Xavier. The interior actually had little panels for each of the stations of the cross, the altar was amazingly ornate, and the interior of the dome at the transept was very densely ornamented. At the four corners were the four major prophets, over them, the eight minor prophets. Then on the interior of the dome itself were painted the twelve apostles. Not surprisingly, Barnabas had been substituted in for Judas. Les Invalides was closed when we arrived, but the gardens outside were a beautiful introduction to the parks of Paris.
On our way to Les Invalides, we were remarking how much of the architecture and the quiet streets could have been Boston’s Back Bay or New York’s Upper East side when suddenly we turned a corner and saw, over the rooftops, the tip of the Eiffel Tower. Certainly not something you see in America’s northeast.
The tower certainly doesn’t disappoint, and even though it’s my third time seeing it (consciously, there was a fourth when I was little, and while I have the drawing to prove that I saw it, I don’t actually remember it), it still takes my breath away. It certainly has a grace and style that is timeless and a sweep that is both elegant and remarkably structural. Unfortunately at that point, it started to rain. We walked to the underside of the tower and waited for the rain to subside, then went off in search of food.
Dinner was a lovely Italian affair at the Ristorante dell’ Angelo. I had a delicious spaghetti alio e olio e pepperoncino. Diana had the rigatoni arrabiata. We split a mixed appetizer, which was amazing. The spaghetti was just as I’d remembered it (from Italy, not as I remember cooking it myself – that was pretty awful): it was light, with a little hit of spice and then overwhelming garlic flavor. I have no doubt I’m going to smell of garlic for at least another day or two. Diana’s rigatoni was spicy and flavorful, not really my thing, but lovely nonetheless. I preferred my Chianti to her Bordeaux, but again, I think that just comes down to personal preference. The cheese platter (parmesan, gorgonzola, and some odd creamy goat cheese) was amazing. The parmesan, by far my favorite, had a real sweetness to it, completely unlike the sharp parmesan I’m used to from the US. The gorgonzola, again, was unlike what I was used to – creamy and pungent without being too sharp. Delicious. The goat cheese reminded me a lot of brie, but with a much stronger goats milk flavor. These were all served with a few shreds of lettuce drizzled in a really fruity and tasty extra-virgin olive oil and, inexplicably, a pat of butter, which I mistook for cheese, eating a large chunk of it plain. It is certainly true that French butter tastes unlike any other. Having never eaten butter of any nationality on its own, I can say that this French butter tasted much more strongly of butter than of cheese, which was what I was expecting. Seems natural, in retrospect, that butter should taste like butter.
A trip back to the Eiffel tower after dark was gorgeous too – at night it’s a beautiful bronze color, but there’s also a wonderful sparkle that happens every hour – flashbulbs start to go off and the entire tower starts to shimmer. It’s amazingly gorgeous, and was a real sight. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and we were able to linger and take in the tower. It’s been a long day, and I’m so looking forward to tomorrow.
3.29.2005
zoo
I try not to delve too deeply into my own stance on religion or politics, except to say that I am an evangelical Christian who happens also to be a Massachusetts Liberal. In that respect (and in others, no doubt), I am an anomaly. I'm an academic liberal egghead but I also have a profound faith in Christianity. So i was a little put-off by this story in the news today:today's Boston Globe features a story with the title "For Family, Religion Shapes Politics". This is not a fringe newspaper. It's not some whacko publication that is produced a country away or from another era. This is the Boston Globe - my hometown newspaper. And that article was really stupid, bordering on offensive.
It tells the story of a nice, albeit bland story, of a couple from Ohio (that dastardly state which cost Kerry the election. y'know, so did every other state didn't vote for Kerry - Ohio was just the one where it was close). The Wilkersons are evangelicals who voted for Bush, side with the Republicans on every single issue, and who tithe, sing in the choir, and pray before meals. The Boston Globe chose to show these people off as if they were caged animals in a zoo. As I read the article, I found myself finding the tone of the article to be condescending. This was a grade-school report on Chinese people which might read: these are Chinese people. They eat rice and pray to buddha. They celebrate the moon festival and give each other money in red envelopes. None of these is specifically untrue, but it takes very little effort to present these facts in a way which doesn't sound like Christians are an endangered species or a lost civilization from far away.
Do I agree with their views? Most of them. Do I share their values? Most of them. It would be difficult for me to say otherwise. And yes, a lot of Christians voted with the Republicans this time, not because they agree with the Republicans on everything, but because the Republicans tended to embody their vision of the values of America, the Anglo-Saxon, Judeo-Christian, Greco-Roman whatever values of America. These are people who very often also voted against their economic interests, their interests as international travellers or as patients in hosptials. But at least they agree that gays shouldn't get married. I'm angry with articles which exploit the rift in religious and secular America. This was idiotic reporting by someone who should know better, by an institution that should know better, and in a country that, theoretically, should know better too.
I'm not opposed to the crossing of cultures, nor am I opposed to the free exchange of information. I wrote a few months ago that I was sick of blue America saying that evangelicals were ignorant fools, and that I was simultaneously sick of red America saying that liberals are smug and out of touch. Newspapers should be writing articles which expose each side in a fair and respectful way. But when they produce this drivel instead of actual journalism, that's when I have a problem. There is such a need for understanding that when newspapers actually miss the opportunity to do so by so far, the result is such that it'd have been better if they hadn't tried, which is really pretty sad.
It tells the story of a nice, albeit bland story, of a couple from Ohio (that dastardly state which cost Kerry the election. y'know, so did every other state didn't vote for Kerry - Ohio was just the one where it was close). The Wilkersons are evangelicals who voted for Bush, side with the Republicans on every single issue, and who tithe, sing in the choir, and pray before meals. The Boston Globe chose to show these people off as if they were caged animals in a zoo. As I read the article, I found myself finding the tone of the article to be condescending. This was a grade-school report on Chinese people which might read: these are Chinese people. They eat rice and pray to buddha. They celebrate the moon festival and give each other money in red envelopes. None of these is specifically untrue, but it takes very little effort to present these facts in a way which doesn't sound like Christians are an endangered species or a lost civilization from far away.
Do I agree with their views? Most of them. Do I share their values? Most of them. It would be difficult for me to say otherwise. And yes, a lot of Christians voted with the Republicans this time, not because they agree with the Republicans on everything, but because the Republicans tended to embody their vision of the values of America, the Anglo-Saxon, Judeo-Christian, Greco-Roman whatever values of America. These are people who very often also voted against their economic interests, their interests as international travellers or as patients in hosptials. But at least they agree that gays shouldn't get married. I'm angry with articles which exploit the rift in religious and secular America. This was idiotic reporting by someone who should know better, by an institution that should know better, and in a country that, theoretically, should know better too.
I'm not opposed to the crossing of cultures, nor am I opposed to the free exchange of information. I wrote a few months ago that I was sick of blue America saying that evangelicals were ignorant fools, and that I was simultaneously sick of red America saying that liberals are smug and out of touch. Newspapers should be writing articles which expose each side in a fair and respectful way. But when they produce this drivel instead of actual journalism, that's when I have a problem. There is such a need for understanding that when newspapers actually miss the opportunity to do so by so far, the result is such that it'd have been better if they hadn't tried, which is really pretty sad.
3.28.2005
boat race post-script
The following News stories are up for the race:
From the Guardian:
Oxford's Goliaths Punch Their Weight
Heidicker Sees His Hopes Drift Away From The First Stroke
From the Daily Telegraph:
Monsters Inc Trample The Technicians
From the Times:
Stroke of Genius
From CNN International:
Oxford Win 151st Varsity Boat Race
It's interesting, though. Many of the reports coming in refer to the enormous international presence on both the Oxford and Cambridge teams. Of Cambridge's eight rowers, only two were British. Of Oxford's, four. Which is interesting, because Oxford was cited for having three Americans and two Canadians. It seems that when they're counting, some journalists count a dual American/Canadian citizen as two full people. Stupid...
A reply to the last posting stated that the boat race even made the Sports section of the NYTimes. Unfortunately, it's not yet made the New York Times online edition.
From the Guardian:
Oxford's Goliaths Punch Their Weight
Heidicker Sees His Hopes Drift Away From The First Stroke
From the Daily Telegraph:
Monsters Inc Trample The Technicians
From the Times:
Stroke of Genius
From CNN International:
Oxford Win 151st Varsity Boat Race
It's interesting, though. Many of the reports coming in refer to the enormous international presence on both the Oxford and Cambridge teams. Of Cambridge's eight rowers, only two were British. Of Oxford's, four. Which is interesting, because Oxford was cited for having three Americans and two Canadians. It seems that when they're counting, some journalists count a dual American/Canadian citizen as two full people. Stupid...
A reply to the last posting stated that the boat race even made the Sports section of the NYTimes. Unfortunately, it's not yet made the New York Times online edition.
weekend
It really has been a phenomenally great weekend. Not only for the religious holiday and the significance it carries, though this is indeed important, but just for the little things - the experiences with friends.
I went to St. Mary's Church in Marylebone yesterday - it's where my friends Edith and Jon go. The 10:30 service had kids running around, which a lot of conservative parishioners might not like, but which I think is exactly what the church should be about. Toddlers walking around behind the pastor during the message was an interesting visual though...
After church, I met up with a lot of Oxford people and a few 'Tabs (that's Cantabrigians, or Cambridge folk) to go to Hammersmith Bridge for the Boat Race. This isn't the largest rowing event in the world, it's not the most exciting, it's not the longest. It is, however, one of the oldest. The race is almost four and a half miles long and it's a dead head-to-head sprint. Check out the video of previous boat races online. This year, we beat the 'Tabs by about two lengths. :)
It's impossible, if you don't row, to imagine the pain involved in hauling a boat through 4 miles of water, especially at a full sprint. These boys do it in 17 minutes. I wouldn't be able to row 17 minutes at a full race pace, let along pull the amount that these guys pull. It's insane. It's ridiculous. And it hurts a lot. Next time you're at the gym and you're going over to the treadmill or elliptical trainer, give the rowing machine on the floor a try. Get on and try a 2000 meter piece - get the big split number (X:XX/500m) down as far as you can, and then hold it for the next seven minutes. Severely painful. Rowing truly is a great way to keep in shape.
So anyway, life here is good. And of the past six days, four of them have been exceedingly beautiful and sunny. Quite unusual for England, I think. England - adventures in sunless tanning.
I went to St. Mary's Church in Marylebone yesterday - it's where my friends Edith and Jon go. The 10:30 service had kids running around, which a lot of conservative parishioners might not like, but which I think is exactly what the church should be about. Toddlers walking around behind the pastor during the message was an interesting visual though...
After church, I met up with a lot of Oxford people and a few 'Tabs (that's Cantabrigians, or Cambridge folk) to go to Hammersmith Bridge for the Boat Race. This isn't the largest rowing event in the world, it's not the most exciting, it's not the longest. It is, however, one of the oldest. The race is almost four and a half miles long and it's a dead head-to-head sprint. Check out the video of previous boat races online. This year, we beat the 'Tabs by about two lengths. :)
It's impossible, if you don't row, to imagine the pain involved in hauling a boat through 4 miles of water, especially at a full sprint. These boys do it in 17 minutes. I wouldn't be able to row 17 minutes at a full race pace, let along pull the amount that these guys pull. It's insane. It's ridiculous. And it hurts a lot. Next time you're at the gym and you're going over to the treadmill or elliptical trainer, give the rowing machine on the floor a try. Get on and try a 2000 meter piece - get the big split number (X:XX/500m) down as far as you can, and then hold it for the next seven minutes. Severely painful. Rowing truly is a great way to keep in shape.
So anyway, life here is good. And of the past six days, four of them have been exceedingly beautiful and sunny. Quite unusual for England, I think. England - adventures in sunless tanning.
3.25.2005
punting
Today is Good Friday. And, risking being glib and superficial, it was a very good Friday. Yes, it's a day for contemplation and quiet meditation. It's also a day when I got to go punting down the Cherwell River.
For those who haven't punted, it's difficult to explain, except to say that it involves propelling a very tippy flat-bottomed boat down a shallow river by way of a pole. Not, y'know, an oar, which I'm used to, but a long aluminum pole. Simon, Basak, Dan, Jess, and Jess's cousin from the US all went punting with me. Highlights included Dan getting the punt caught in a downed tree, Simon hitting the bank and getting soaked, Jess not being able to steer and trying to kill all of us, and me, getting caught in a very low-hanging tree and not taking no for an answer.
I just stood there, very stoic and still, while the branches broke off around me and landed at my feet in the punt
Seriously, whoever invented punting needs professional help.
Cooked for the first time in months last night down at Jess's place. We're over at Simon's now having a nice meal. Simon's cooking - he's not half bad for a Scouser.
God bless.
For those who haven't punted, it's difficult to explain, except to say that it involves propelling a very tippy flat-bottomed boat down a shallow river by way of a pole. Not, y'know, an oar, which I'm used to, but a long aluminum pole. Simon, Basak, Dan, Jess, and Jess's cousin from the US all went punting with me. Highlights included Dan getting the punt caught in a downed tree, Simon hitting the bank and getting soaked, Jess not being able to steer and trying to kill all of us, and me, getting caught in a very low-hanging tree and not taking no for an answer.
I just stood there, very stoic and still, while the branches broke off around me and landed at my feet in the punt
Seriously, whoever invented punting needs professional help.
Cooked for the first time in months last night down at Jess's place. We're over at Simon's now having a nice meal. Simon's cooking - he's not half bad for a Scouser.
God bless.
3.24.2005
sport
Today was a day filled with sport. Which was nice.
I woke up this morning and went down to the boathouse for some rowing training. It was, shall we say, unpleasant. I came back to Keble, showered, had breakfast (pb&j) and went to the MCR where I did the NYTimes crossword puzzle and watched professional curling. I also watched idiots on Discovery TV build the world's largest treadmill. After a day of walking around, chatting with one of my very excellent friends here, and being in the library, I did something I haven't done since 1991: I tried to hit a baseball.
Now, I'm a pretty big fan of baseball. I enjoy it; it's good stuff. And back in 6th grade, I was on the baseball team. I was up to bat once, I was walked, and I stole one base. The next game day, I got appendicitis and was was out the rest of the season. Tonight, I was invited by my neighbor Derek (the infamous Yankees fan) to go to batting practice for the Oxford Kings, the city amateur baseball team. It was a lot of fun, and I'm severely tempted to give this a try.
Who'd have thought that I'd have to go to England to rediscover how to hit a baseball?
I woke up this morning and went down to the boathouse for some rowing training. It was, shall we say, unpleasant. I came back to Keble, showered, had breakfast (pb&j) and went to the MCR where I did the NYTimes crossword puzzle and watched professional curling. I also watched idiots on Discovery TV build the world's largest treadmill. After a day of walking around, chatting with one of my very excellent friends here, and being in the library, I did something I haven't done since 1991: I tried to hit a baseball.
Now, I'm a pretty big fan of baseball. I enjoy it; it's good stuff. And back in 6th grade, I was on the baseball team. I was up to bat once, I was walked, and I stole one base. The next game day, I got appendicitis and was was out the rest of the season. Tonight, I was invited by my neighbor Derek (the infamous Yankees fan) to go to batting practice for the Oxford Kings, the city amateur baseball team. It was a lot of fun, and I'm severely tempted to give this a try.
Who'd have thought that I'd have to go to England to rediscover how to hit a baseball?
3.21.2005
ahhh...
I just got back from a glorious morning outing with the MCR crew. We took out a four today, which is much less stable than an eight, but which also is a lot more fun to row. The learning curve was fantastic - we were able to improve vastly over the course of the outing, which was a great confidence boost. And with a four, there's a greater chance that you'll like, or at least tolerate, the members of your crew. I don't think I've been on an eight yet where *someone* hasn't annoyed me in some way. Today was great.
Plus, the weather was wonderful; a rarity in England. It was a glorious start to what I hope will be a wonderful day and a wonderful week.
Last weekend was pretty nice as well. I went to London for my friend Edith's 25th birthday. And it was a lot of fun. Took the bus in with Simon and Basak, which was great, except I started feeling a bit third-wheel-iish. They're so cute, though. We wandered through London, past Carnaby St., which has become a huge tourist attraction a la Main St. USA at Disneyland. Waited forever for Derek and Emily and Emily's two roommates, Mark and Sarah, to arrive, and then waited forever at the restaurant for dinner, then forever waiting for Sarah to finish her bottle of rose (she didn't, in the end). Dinner, though, was great. It was a Thai place called Busaba. There are a few rather unhelpful reviews available online here. The food was fantastic, the decor chic without being overwhelming, and the only complaint I had was that the scent of incense was everywhere, which is fine, if you like that sort of thing. I happen not to. Hilarious bathrooms though. Seriously. They're great, and enough to make the BBC write about them.
The party was really nice, though it was a little hard to get to from Waterloo tube station. Had I know, I would have gone to Lambeth North, which was a lot closer and a lot less dodgy. Edith has a lot of lawyer friends, and the basic conversation starter was, "another law friend of Edith's?" Cake was lovely, drinks were good and relatively cheap, and the company was chic and smart and oh-so-professional. So yeah, I felt out of place a bit.
Simon and Basak made a great effort to walk around and meet people. Derek, Emily, Mark, and Sarah all parked themselves in a corner, which was fine, except that they didn't meet anyone, and no one really met them. If they're happy with that, great. I think I would have gotten kind of bored. Simon remarked afterward on the bus home that we are all doomed to a life of those parties in the future. Parties in which we get together in clumps of Oxbridge people and discuss how much we disliked Oxford while we were there and good gracious how much we wish we were back there. Typical conversation was very simple:
"Oxford or Cambridge"
"ahh... What college?"
"That's a lovely college - what did you study?"
"Excellent. What do you do now?"
A truly stimulating conversation. :)
I joke, but it was all there. At the same time, though, it was really good fun and we all had a good time. Except for the fact that they closed down early. They actually do have a late licence, but there had been a fight the night before, so they owners weren't taking any chances. All in all, a very enjoyable outing. It probably would have been even better had Simon, Basak, and I gotten off our butts and gotten to London earlier. But hey, it was a lazy Saturday over Easter break. What were we really gonna do?
Plus, the weather was wonderful; a rarity in England. It was a glorious start to what I hope will be a wonderful day and a wonderful week.
Last weekend was pretty nice as well. I went to London for my friend Edith's 25th birthday. And it was a lot of fun. Took the bus in with Simon and Basak, which was great, except I started feeling a bit third-wheel-iish. They're so cute, though. We wandered through London, past Carnaby St., which has become a huge tourist attraction a la Main St. USA at Disneyland. Waited forever for Derek and Emily and Emily's two roommates, Mark and Sarah, to arrive, and then waited forever at the restaurant for dinner, then forever waiting for Sarah to finish her bottle of rose (she didn't, in the end). Dinner, though, was great. It was a Thai place called Busaba. There are a few rather unhelpful reviews available online here. The food was fantastic, the decor chic without being overwhelming, and the only complaint I had was that the scent of incense was everywhere, which is fine, if you like that sort of thing. I happen not to. Hilarious bathrooms though. Seriously. They're great, and enough to make the BBC write about them.
The party was really nice, though it was a little hard to get to from Waterloo tube station. Had I know, I would have gone to Lambeth North, which was a lot closer and a lot less dodgy. Edith has a lot of lawyer friends, and the basic conversation starter was, "another law friend of Edith's?" Cake was lovely, drinks were good and relatively cheap, and the company was chic and smart and oh-so-professional. So yeah, I felt out of place a bit.
Simon and Basak made a great effort to walk around and meet people. Derek, Emily, Mark, and Sarah all parked themselves in a corner, which was fine, except that they didn't meet anyone, and no one really met them. If they're happy with that, great. I think I would have gotten kind of bored. Simon remarked afterward on the bus home that we are all doomed to a life of those parties in the future. Parties in which we get together in clumps of Oxbridge people and discuss how much we disliked Oxford while we were there and good gracious how much we wish we were back there. Typical conversation was very simple:
"Oxford or Cambridge"
"ahh... What college?"
"That's a lovely college - what did you study?"
"Excellent. What do you do now?"
A truly stimulating conversation. :)
I joke, but it was all there. At the same time, though, it was really good fun and we all had a good time. Except for the fact that they closed down early. They actually do have a late licence, but there had been a fight the night before, so they owners weren't taking any chances. All in all, a very enjoyable outing. It probably would have been even better had Simon, Basak, and I gotten off our butts and gotten to London earlier. But hey, it was a lazy Saturday over Easter break. What were we really gonna do?
3.19.2005
well well...
so there's nothing to blog.
Seriously.
I mean, St. Patrick's Day came and went, that that was all fine and good. My neighbor Derek and I threw a party and it was fun. Ho hum, really.
Today, evidently, is the feast of St. Joseph, so yay.
Going to London to see my friend Edith - it's her birthday today! Yay.
I won't embarass her by saying how old she is.
Seriously. That's it. There's nothing going on.
I'm bored.
Seriously.
I mean, St. Patrick's Day came and went, that that was all fine and good. My neighbor Derek and I threw a party and it was fun. Ho hum, really.
Today, evidently, is the feast of St. Joseph, so yay.
Going to London to see my friend Edith - it's her birthday today! Yay.
I won't embarass her by saying how old she is.
Seriously. That's it. There's nothing going on.
I'm bored.
3.16.2005
the miracle of chemistry
A few months ago, I wrote about the different flavors of crisps in this country. The one cited was "slow roasted lamb and mint", which actually has, as an ingredient, "lamb powder." Now, this was weird, and I said as much in November.
Today, since I'm doing a lot more self-preparing of food (saves money and time!), I've been eating a lot of prepared or semi-prepared foods. There's a fantastic mulligatawny soup by Heinz which is really spicy (not, like, hot-spicy, but tasty-spicy), and the Sainsbury's canned shells bolognese is outstanding. I know I shouldn't eat too much of it, and I'm not. Only on occasion when the stuff in hall is awful or I'm trying to get some reading done.
I've been making myself a lot of sandwiches. Best ingredient ever? Onion relish. Great with honey-cured ham or smoked turkey.
But I found ramen bricks in this country, which is way cool. With one significant problem. Sainsbury's instant noodles were the only brand I could find (none of the familiar top ramen), and the chicken flavour is marked with an odd green label. I was curious, so I read the fine print. Chicken flavoured instant noodles are, I kid you not, "Suitable for Vegetarians and Vegans". There is nothing remotely chicken-y in this stuff, but oddly, it tastes a bit like chicken. Not, you know, like actual chicken, of course. But it's sort of got that boullion cube taste to it, which is really creepy because it's totally vegetarian. Not just vegetarian - vegan.
Today, since I'm doing a lot more self-preparing of food (saves money and time!), I've been eating a lot of prepared or semi-prepared foods. There's a fantastic mulligatawny soup by Heinz which is really spicy (not, like, hot-spicy, but tasty-spicy), and the Sainsbury's canned shells bolognese is outstanding. I know I shouldn't eat too much of it, and I'm not. Only on occasion when the stuff in hall is awful or I'm trying to get some reading done.
I've been making myself a lot of sandwiches. Best ingredient ever? Onion relish. Great with honey-cured ham or smoked turkey.
But I found ramen bricks in this country, which is way cool. With one significant problem. Sainsbury's instant noodles were the only brand I could find (none of the familiar top ramen), and the chicken flavour is marked with an odd green label. I was curious, so I read the fine print. Chicken flavoured instant noodles are, I kid you not, "Suitable for Vegetarians and Vegans". There is nothing remotely chicken-y in this stuff, but oddly, it tastes a bit like chicken. Not, you know, like actual chicken, of course. But it's sort of got that boullion cube taste to it, which is really creepy because it's totally vegetarian. Not just vegetarian - vegan.
3.15.2005
beware
Today we commemorate the death of Julius Caesar, whose death in 44 BC lead to rioting, chaos, civil war, and the installation of the largest scam of a "republic" ever seen until, oh, modern America? Augustus became the 'first citizen' among equal citizens while quietly consolidating power, eventually creating the principate, which was the immediate precursor to the Roman Empire.
But, as noted in a New York Times article this morning, "Good sometimes does come from bad." This was the flourishing of Vergil (though I know that certain teachers of Latin are not as fond of Vergil as I) and Horace. This is great literature and it was created under some very dodgy political circumstances.
This article to which I refer is about older women finding work on TV. Oddly enough, it leads with this vignette:
* * *
Good sometimes does come from bad. Napoleon III was a dictator, but margarine was invented under his regime. The success of ABC's drama about sex-starved suburban matrons, "Desperate Housewives," has a side benefit of its own: it has made television safe again for older actresses.
* * *
That's just weird. And margarine is a good thing?
Also, according to an article in the Boston Globe, the word 'wedgie' has now entered the Webster's Dictionary.
I wanted to celebrate pi day yesterday, but being as in the UK, dates are written 14-3 and not 3-14, it wouldn't have meant as much. Enjoy the ides today. :)
But, as noted in a New York Times article this morning, "Good sometimes does come from bad." This was the flourishing of Vergil (though I know that certain teachers of Latin are not as fond of Vergil as I) and Horace. This is great literature and it was created under some very dodgy political circumstances.
This article to which I refer is about older women finding work on TV. Oddly enough, it leads with this vignette:
* * *
Good sometimes does come from bad. Napoleon III was a dictator, but margarine was invented under his regime. The success of ABC's drama about sex-starved suburban matrons, "Desperate Housewives," has a side benefit of its own: it has made television safe again for older actresses.
* * *
That's just weird. And margarine is a good thing?
Also, according to an article in the Boston Globe, the word 'wedgie' has now entered the Webster's Dictionary.
I wanted to celebrate pi day yesterday, but being as in the UK, dates are written 14-3 and not 3-14, it wouldn't have meant as much. Enjoy the ides today. :)
3.14.2005
what a day
Had a productive day today: I had to spend the majority of my morning fixing my bike, which went so much better than I had expected that it would. The brakes weren't doing quite well - my front brake was far too loose, such that I'd have to pull the lever all the way down in order to stop the wheel. And the back brake was much the same, except then it also wouldn't open back out, so it would just stick to the wheel unless opened up manually using the lever again. Basically, I tightened a few of the brake cables, but the real fix when I decided to drench basically anything that moved in WD-40. That stuff is awesome. :)
Unfortunately, one of the byproducts was that I also happened to grease up the brakepads with the WD-40, but it wore off eventually and now my brakes work! I also took the time to oil the chain, which made a huge difference in how hard I had to pedal and also how dirty my trouser leg got while I was biking. It was excellent.
I also had thhis really weird music rehearsal today. It's brand new music by composers from Oxford Brookes University, performed by singers from The Sixteen and Magdala. The music is bizarre - I'm not sure what the assignment was, but it's really messed up.
Piece number one: Paradise, Purgatory and Pandemonium. According to the composer, "the score is entirely based around the tune l'homme arme, an inspiration to the writers of beautiful Renaissance polyphony which in its lyric expresses the genocidal and hysterical shadow of the time. I hope, through this piece, to capture my ambivalence towards the religious music of the Renaissance, which I have always found deeply moving in its intensity and spirituality, but equally disturbing in its support of a religion which was so violent and intolerant." I happen to disagree on the sociological and spiritual levels. I also happen to disagree with his choices in composition, which seem not to be based on the l'homme arme tune, but on stuff I can't see. I don't get it. And I don't like it. Which is not to say that I don't like it because I don't get it. Rather, I just don't understand what he's doing here, and I also happen not to think that it sounds any good. For a part of the piece, the choir is asked to make loud feral animal noises.
Piece number two: The Secret of the Universe. At least this one's tonal in nature. It's got a certain playfulness to it, but I'm a little confused by the lyrics, which read "I spin, I spin around and close my eyes, I view sky blue land green round, stop, stay, sleep, spin, Gaining the universal, no stay, no stop, like any top" etc... It's all pretty wierd, but like I said, it's got a certain tonality which I found lacking in Paradise, etc.
Piece number three; Star Cross'd Lovers. This one's a simplistic setting of the prologue from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. But then we start to chant "Verona" over and over and over again, which gets tedious. It's also flirting with two different tonalities a half-step apart, which makes it pretty difficult to sing.
I've never barked during a concert - the show on Wednesday might be kind of fun... :)
Sad news: My friend Jenny was dumped by her boyfriend today. In fact, she had gone to Cambridge to see him this past weekend and then arrived back in Oxford yesterday evening. He came on the bus to Oxford this afternoon with the sole purpose of dumping her. Then he jumped back on the bus and left town. I'll take the opportunity now to say that while I am exceedingly sorry for Jenny's situation, I never liked him and often said as much among other friends. She's so much better off.
So I'm going to Paris the week after Easter. If anyone has tips, I'd love to hear 'em. :)
Unfortunately, one of the byproducts was that I also happened to grease up the brakepads with the WD-40, but it wore off eventually and now my brakes work! I also took the time to oil the chain, which made a huge difference in how hard I had to pedal and also how dirty my trouser leg got while I was biking. It was excellent.
I also had thhis really weird music rehearsal today. It's brand new music by composers from Oxford Brookes University, performed by singers from The Sixteen and Magdala. The music is bizarre - I'm not sure what the assignment was, but it's really messed up.
Piece number one: Paradise, Purgatory and Pandemonium. According to the composer, "the score is entirely based around the tune l'homme arme, an inspiration to the writers of beautiful Renaissance polyphony which in its lyric expresses the genocidal and hysterical shadow of the time. I hope, through this piece, to capture my ambivalence towards the religious music of the Renaissance, which I have always found deeply moving in its intensity and spirituality, but equally disturbing in its support of a religion which was so violent and intolerant." I happen to disagree on the sociological and spiritual levels. I also happen to disagree with his choices in composition, which seem not to be based on the l'homme arme tune, but on stuff I can't see. I don't get it. And I don't like it. Which is not to say that I don't like it because I don't get it. Rather, I just don't understand what he's doing here, and I also happen not to think that it sounds any good. For a part of the piece, the choir is asked to make loud feral animal noises.
Piece number two: The Secret of the Universe. At least this one's tonal in nature. It's got a certain playfulness to it, but I'm a little confused by the lyrics, which read "I spin, I spin around and close my eyes, I view sky blue land green round, stop, stay, sleep, spin, Gaining the universal, no stay, no stop, like any top" etc... It's all pretty wierd, but like I said, it's got a certain tonality which I found lacking in Paradise, etc.
Piece number three; Star Cross'd Lovers. This one's a simplistic setting of the prologue from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. But then we start to chant "Verona" over and over and over again, which gets tedious. It's also flirting with two different tonalities a half-step apart, which makes it pretty difficult to sing.
I've never barked during a concert - the show on Wednesday might be kind of fun... :)
Sad news: My friend Jenny was dumped by her boyfriend today. In fact, she had gone to Cambridge to see him this past weekend and then arrived back in Oxford yesterday evening. He came on the bus to Oxford this afternoon with the sole purpose of dumping her. Then he jumped back on the bus and left town. I'll take the opportunity now to say that while I am exceedingly sorry for Jenny's situation, I never liked him and often said as much among other friends. She's so much better off.
So I'm going to Paris the week after Easter. If anyone has tips, I'd love to hear 'em. :)
3.11.2005
heh
So last night was the Queen's College Choir dinner. A formal dinner of mirth and enjoyment of each other's company without having to worry about singing or, frankly, about anything at all. I've made a lot of friends in the choir, and it's really been a lovely two terms with the chorus. Unlike the previous dinner at Queen's, this one was fantastic.
Starter was a sole duglere, which was creamy and flaky while still maintaining a nice firm texture and a delightful cream sauce. The soup, butternut squash and pumpkin, was outstanding. It had a hint of sweetness, but also a hit of pepper that made it interesting. It was probably the best soup I've had here in Oxford so far. The main course, was a roast duck with black cherry sauce (mmm!), with dauphinoise potatoes, mange-tout, and carrots. This was delicious - perfectly cooked with the right sort of crispy herb-crusted skin and meat that was both very rich and flavorful without being obnoxiously gamey. Dessert was a very nice creme brulee, which was delicious as well. Coffee and mints were excellent too.
Wine selection? SO much better than the previous stuff. The Montlouis Brut with which we started was crisp and refreshing, while the Carmen Reserve Sauvignon Blanc 2002 matched both the sold and the soup quite well. It was crisp enough to cut through the buttery cream sauce on the fish, while at the same time did a decent job of standing up to the peppery soup. It was, I think, the low point of the wine pairings. Much more successful was the Artazuri Garnacha 2001, which brought out all of the flavors of the duck while serving as a delicious counterpart to the creamy potatoes. Port was a delicious Churchill Graham LBV 1998, which brought the entire meal to a fantastic close. Mmmm... I haven't eaten that well in quite some time, and I'll tell you right now, I've never eaten like that at Queen's!
Funny little ending note - David Byrne of the Talking Heads gave a lecture at Berkeley (go Bears!) on the uses of Powerpoint. In it, he included some fantastically bad examples of powerpoint gone wrong. No offense to every one of my students who got it all right, but a lot of my kids from the P. school figured that if they added graphics and the other ridiculous accompaniments of powerpoint (like moving text or interesting animations), I wouldn't notice how little they were actually saying. Suave delivery should complement, not compensate for, lack of things to say. And using text animations on EVERY LETTER (you offenders know who you are!) is so boring that I actually fade out for a few seconds if I see it.
Starter was a sole duglere, which was creamy and flaky while still maintaining a nice firm texture and a delightful cream sauce. The soup, butternut squash and pumpkin, was outstanding. It had a hint of sweetness, but also a hit of pepper that made it interesting. It was probably the best soup I've had here in Oxford so far. The main course, was a roast duck with black cherry sauce (mmm!), with dauphinoise potatoes, mange-tout, and carrots. This was delicious - perfectly cooked with the right sort of crispy herb-crusted skin and meat that was both very rich and flavorful without being obnoxiously gamey. Dessert was a very nice creme brulee, which was delicious as well. Coffee and mints were excellent too.
Wine selection? SO much better than the previous stuff. The Montlouis Brut with which we started was crisp and refreshing, while the Carmen Reserve Sauvignon Blanc 2002 matched both the sold and the soup quite well. It was crisp enough to cut through the buttery cream sauce on the fish, while at the same time did a decent job of standing up to the peppery soup. It was, I think, the low point of the wine pairings. Much more successful was the Artazuri Garnacha 2001, which brought out all of the flavors of the duck while serving as a delicious counterpart to the creamy potatoes. Port was a delicious Churchill Graham LBV 1998, which brought the entire meal to a fantastic close. Mmmm... I haven't eaten that well in quite some time, and I'll tell you right now, I've never eaten like that at Queen's!
Funny little ending note - David Byrne of the Talking Heads gave a lecture at Berkeley (go Bears!) on the uses of Powerpoint. In it, he included some fantastically bad examples of powerpoint gone wrong. No offense to every one of my students who got it all right, but a lot of my kids from the P. school figured that if they added graphics and the other ridiculous accompaniments of powerpoint (like moving text or interesting animations), I wouldn't notice how little they were actually saying. Suave delivery should complement, not compensate for, lack of things to say. And using text animations on EVERY LETTER (you offenders know who you are!) is so boring that I actually fade out for a few seconds if I see it.
on break
Whee! I'm on Easter break! How long does this break last, you might ask yourself. I go back to school on Monday, April 25th. That's right. A month and a half from now. :)
I took the opportunity to get a library card from the Oxford public library, where I can xerox the crossword puzzles from the International Herald Tribune (which carries the much-revered New York Times puzzle). I'm horribly out of shape, crossword-wise. It's actually pretty depressing.
Other than that, I'll be reading quite a bit, travelling some (going to London a lot, and going to Paris too!), and trying to get in shape for the summer rowing season.
But for the rest of today, I'm just kicking back with a mug of hot cocoa and this devilishly difficult crossword.
I took the opportunity to get a library card from the Oxford public library, where I can xerox the crossword puzzles from the International Herald Tribune (which carries the much-revered New York Times puzzle). I'm horribly out of shape, crossword-wise. It's actually pretty depressing.
Other than that, I'll be reading quite a bit, travelling some (going to London a lot, and going to Paris too!), and trying to get in shape for the summer rowing season.
But for the rest of today, I'm just kicking back with a mug of hot cocoa and this devilishly difficult crossword.
3.10.2005
bummer
So on the front homepage of the Boston Globe, there's an nice little picture of two women out on the town. It's an invitation to send in your pictures and view others. That's all fine and good, the two women are blond and reasonably attractive. However, if you actually click on the link and look for that picture, as I did (OK, I'm pretty bored right now, just waiting for lunchtime to roll around or something), then you'll see that they truncated the picture: here. How must it feel to be the woman in the fuschia? Upstaged by your cuter friends, captured on camera with horrible red-eye and lipstick that's way too dark for the occasion, and then cut out of the actual photo for the front page of the Globe.
It's poignant and sad. But wow. It's also darn funny. :) I should also point out that the other pictures posted were probably posted while inebriated, as they're awful.
It's poignant and sad. But wow. It's also darn funny. :) I should also point out that the other pictures posted were probably posted while inebriated, as they're awful.
whew!
So it's been a long week. I mean, a really really really long week. And it's only Thursday. Yesterday marked the end of a nine-day run in which I had a musical concert or service every night.
Tuesday, 1 March: Evensong at Magdalen College
Program: White - Christe qui lux es et dies; Sermisy - Magnificat (Tone iv); Senfl - Nisi Dominus.
Wednesday, 2 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Gibbons - Short Service; Monteverdi - Ave Maria
Thursday, 3 March: Concert at The Queen's College
Program: Monteverdi - Vespero della Beata Vergine, 1610
Friday, 4 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Morley - Short Service; Tallis - Litany
Saturday, 5 March: Concert at Christ Church Cathedral
Program: Brahms - Ein Deutsches Requiem (playing bassoon)
Sunday, 6 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Morago - Jesu Redemptor; Jackson - Canticles in G; Brito - Heu Domine
Monday, 7 March: Concert at Somerville College (playing bassoon)
Program: Grieg: Morning & In the Hall of the Mountain King (from Peer Gynt); Strauss - Perpetum Mobile
Tuesday, 8 March: Evensong at Magdalen College
Program: Lassus - Audi benigne conditor; Lassus - Magnificat 'Praeter Rerum Sierem'; Jacquet of Mantua - Salve Regina
Wednesday, 9 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Howells - Collegium regale (Canticles for King's College, Cambridge); Durufle - Notre Pere.
So yeah, I'm pretty tired. This while getting all of my work done as well. The Brahms Requiem was pretty disappointing at the first rehearsal (of two). I love the piece so much, and it's really so amazing when it's done right. But there was no committment from the orchestra, and the chorus was atrocious. But, in true last minute Oxford fashion, it came together in the end. Which is not to say that it couldn't have benefitted from, say, another five rehearsals, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been in rehearsal. The Somerville College one was a joke. These are kids who'd have been beat by any decent high school orchestra. Awful. I was subbing for my friend Liz, whose friend runs the orchestra. Liz, an excellent bassoonist and soprano, just recently started going out with Johnny, who conducts the Keble Choir. The choir was going to St. Paul's on Monday and were really short on Soprani, but Liz needed to get out of this committment, so Johnny asked me to play at Somerville so that Liz could go to St. Paul's. Complicated, yes, but it all worked out pretty well in the end, I think. Just don't ask me to play there ever again.
The real star, of course, was the Monteverdi, which was outstanding. It is so emotionally taxing and draining that when you finally flip to the final 'Amen' which is its own full page at the back of the score, you really do feel that weight coming off of your shoulders. What a wonderful piece of music. It was incredible, and our soloists sang wonderfully and the orchestra, the London Handel Orchestra, was fantastic. Overall, we couldn't have been happier.
I've been really priviledged to have all of these musical opportunities open to me. Incidentally, the full termcards for both Magdala and Queen's Choir are up. And even if they turn out to be awful, like Somerville, at least it's another chance to play and to make music. Term is winding down (two more days!), and then I'll be on my six-week Easter holiday. It'll be a relaxing time of reading, some writing, some travel, and a whole lot of nothing. I need it - term has been incredibly tiring these last few weeks. It kind of hit during Torpids and never fully relented.
Tuesday, 1 March: Evensong at Magdalen College
Program: White - Christe qui lux es et dies; Sermisy - Magnificat (Tone iv); Senfl - Nisi Dominus.
Wednesday, 2 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Gibbons - Short Service; Monteverdi - Ave Maria
Thursday, 3 March: Concert at The Queen's College
Program: Monteverdi - Vespero della Beata Vergine, 1610
Friday, 4 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Morley - Short Service; Tallis - Litany
Saturday, 5 March: Concert at Christ Church Cathedral
Program: Brahms - Ein Deutsches Requiem (playing bassoon)
Sunday, 6 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Morago - Jesu Redemptor; Jackson - Canticles in G; Brito - Heu Domine
Monday, 7 March: Concert at Somerville College (playing bassoon)
Program: Grieg: Morning & In the Hall of the Mountain King (from Peer Gynt); Strauss - Perpetum Mobile
Tuesday, 8 March: Evensong at Magdalen College
Program: Lassus - Audi benigne conditor; Lassus - Magnificat 'Praeter Rerum Sierem'; Jacquet of Mantua - Salve Regina
Wednesday, 9 March: Evensong at The Queen's College
Program: Howells - Collegium regale (Canticles for King's College, Cambridge); Durufle - Notre Pere.
So yeah, I'm pretty tired. This while getting all of my work done as well. The Brahms Requiem was pretty disappointing at the first rehearsal (of two). I love the piece so much, and it's really so amazing when it's done right. But there was no committment from the orchestra, and the chorus was atrocious. But, in true last minute Oxford fashion, it came together in the end. Which is not to say that it couldn't have benefitted from, say, another five rehearsals, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been in rehearsal. The Somerville College one was a joke. These are kids who'd have been beat by any decent high school orchestra. Awful. I was subbing for my friend Liz, whose friend runs the orchestra. Liz, an excellent bassoonist and soprano, just recently started going out with Johnny, who conducts the Keble Choir. The choir was going to St. Paul's on Monday and were really short on Soprani, but Liz needed to get out of this committment, so Johnny asked me to play at Somerville so that Liz could go to St. Paul's. Complicated, yes, but it all worked out pretty well in the end, I think. Just don't ask me to play there ever again.
The real star, of course, was the Monteverdi, which was outstanding. It is so emotionally taxing and draining that when you finally flip to the final 'Amen' which is its own full page at the back of the score, you really do feel that weight coming off of your shoulders. What a wonderful piece of music. It was incredible, and our soloists sang wonderfully and the orchestra, the London Handel Orchestra, was fantastic. Overall, we couldn't have been happier.
I've been really priviledged to have all of these musical opportunities open to me. Incidentally, the full termcards for both Magdala and Queen's Choir are up. And even if they turn out to be awful, like Somerville, at least it's another chance to play and to make music. Term is winding down (two more days!), and then I'll be on my six-week Easter holiday. It'll be a relaxing time of reading, some writing, some travel, and a whole lot of nothing. I need it - term has been incredibly tiring these last few weeks. It kind of hit during Torpids and never fully relented.
3.04.2005
online courtesy
I was just IM'ed by someone I don't know. This happens a lot - it's kind of the price I pay for having given my students my IM address as I left the school. It was, I often tell people, another way to keep in touch with students about whom I care very deeply and for whom I had and continue to have a lot of affection. I really do miss my students. I said exactly as much today in a conversation about teaching, and how much I learned while teaching, how much fun it was, and really, how much I miss it.
So when I was IM'ed, which doesn't happen a lot anymore, I'm kind of sad to say, I wanted to know who it was. I just ask - usually the person tells me who it is, we have a short conversation, no big deal. I'm always happy to have a conversation with a former student, acquaintance, even old colleagues on the faculty. There are a few people who turn up, want to chat, and the moment I ask who they are, they bolt. They disappear offline, they don't answer the question, whatever. It's disappointing, sometimes, but it's hardly new. This one tried to debate why he needed to tell me who he is. I say "he" and I'm not sure it's a "he", but the masculine pronoun is handy, and besides, I think the girls from the P. school are by and large nicer than this person and have more respect for people.
Seriously, this was part of the chat transcript: (my answers are indented with >>)
>>might I inquire as to with whom I am speaking?
you might, and you might not
>>I mean, without you disappearing offline or something. It's just common
>>courtesy.
common to whom?
>>look, are you going to answer the question or not?
and you, mine?
>>after you.
...no thanks
This person then debated me on who sets "common courtesy" and whether, if he didn't agree with the consensus that people should know who they're talking to, then he didn't have to follow that dictum. I can sort of respect that, except that if he doesn't introduce himself, we're done talking. And I said as much.
The final bit of the chat transcript went like this: All punctuation mistakes are as they were typed online.
>>but I won't speak more with someone I don't know. Thank you for your
>>comments, but until I know who you are, I am not comfortable conversing.
personally, i do not care weather or not i knowwhy are you not cofortable?
how would knowin my identity change that>
online convorsation is anonymous, is it not?
well, i can see you know not the answers to my questions
tool
That was my last chat entry. The rest of it is this guy. Now, online "convorsation" can be anonymous if both parties agree, but if one party does not, then forget it. Secondly, this guy knows who I am, and I don't know who he is. Probably not a good thing. Finally, and this is why I think that a) this is a teenage kid and b) it's a boy, when the rest of the conversation goes south, he called me a tool. Now, I'm not offended by it, I'm amused. By most definitions, I'm pretty darn far away from being a tool. But that's not important. I think it's just rude and obnoxious and silly. And if he is a student at the P. school, then he should be ashamed that he is behaving as such online. Also, he might just possibly rethink calling a former faculty member a tool.
So when I was IM'ed, which doesn't happen a lot anymore, I'm kind of sad to say, I wanted to know who it was. I just ask - usually the person tells me who it is, we have a short conversation, no big deal. I'm always happy to have a conversation with a former student, acquaintance, even old colleagues on the faculty. There are a few people who turn up, want to chat, and the moment I ask who they are, they bolt. They disappear offline, they don't answer the question, whatever. It's disappointing, sometimes, but it's hardly new. This one tried to debate why he needed to tell me who he is. I say "he" and I'm not sure it's a "he", but the masculine pronoun is handy, and besides, I think the girls from the P. school are by and large nicer than this person and have more respect for people.
Seriously, this was part of the chat transcript: (my answers are indented with >>)
>>might I inquire as to with whom I am speaking?
you might, and you might not
>>I mean, without you disappearing offline or something. It's just common
>>courtesy.
common to whom?
>>look, are you going to answer the question or not?
and you, mine?
>>after you.
...no thanks
This person then debated me on who sets "common courtesy" and whether, if he didn't agree with the consensus that people should know who they're talking to, then he didn't have to follow that dictum. I can sort of respect that, except that if he doesn't introduce himself, we're done talking. And I said as much.
The final bit of the chat transcript went like this: All punctuation mistakes are as they were typed online.
>>but I won't speak more with someone I don't know. Thank you for your
>>comments, but until I know who you are, I am not comfortable conversing.
personally, i do not care weather or not i knowwhy are you not cofortable?
how would knowin my identity change that>
online convorsation is anonymous, is it not?
well, i can see you know not the answers to my questions
tool
That was my last chat entry. The rest of it is this guy. Now, online "convorsation" can be anonymous if both parties agree, but if one party does not, then forget it. Secondly, this guy knows who I am, and I don't know who he is. Probably not a good thing. Finally, and this is why I think that a) this is a teenage kid and b) it's a boy, when the rest of the conversation goes south, he called me a tool. Now, I'm not offended by it, I'm amused. By most definitions, I'm pretty darn far away from being a tool. But that's not important. I think it's just rude and obnoxious and silly. And if he is a student at the P. school, then he should be ashamed that he is behaving as such online. Also, he might just possibly rethink calling a former faculty member a tool.
3.03.2005
smiles
I've had an interesting week: recovering from Torpids and not doing a whole lot of work, then an all-nighter on Monday into Tuesday to get said work done. Meetings and classes yesterday, then tonight I've got a concert of the Monteverdi Vespers. It's been busy, but it's a good busy. :)
I was walking to class yesterday listening to my iPod, as I do, and I just started to grin. It was one of those moments when there's no weight on your shoulders, when for whatever reason the sun shines a little brighter, the world is more gorgeous, and you smile. For the record, it was (cringe!) Hansen's MmmBop followed by Weezer's Island in the Sun on the iPod, which I got off of a mix CD made by Ms. Mary-Catherine of the Princeton University Glee Club. Two years ago, I went with that Glee Club to Hawaii, and Mary-Catherine made us all a mix CD with both of those songs on it. And I hadn't heard the Hansen in years, and while it's so cheesy and so stupid and so 'oh my goodness, what am I doing listening to this nonsense', it's got that ability to take me back to that trip to Hawaii, to seeing my friend Alexandra, hanging out with Diane, meeting Emily and Lee, who have become really good friends, and just having a great time.
Still, I'm not sure that remembering Hawaii was why I got all smiley all of a sudden. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the music. It was sort of everything and nothing - just a good day, I think.
I was walking to class yesterday listening to my iPod, as I do, and I just started to grin. It was one of those moments when there's no weight on your shoulders, when for whatever reason the sun shines a little brighter, the world is more gorgeous, and you smile. For the record, it was (cringe!) Hansen's MmmBop followed by Weezer's Island in the Sun on the iPod, which I got off of a mix CD made by Ms. Mary-Catherine of the Princeton University Glee Club. Two years ago, I went with that Glee Club to Hawaii, and Mary-Catherine made us all a mix CD with both of those songs on it. And I hadn't heard the Hansen in years, and while it's so cheesy and so stupid and so 'oh my goodness, what am I doing listening to this nonsense', it's got that ability to take me back to that trip to Hawaii, to seeing my friend Alexandra, hanging out with Diane, meeting Emily and Lee, who have become really good friends, and just having a great time.
Still, I'm not sure that remembering Hawaii was why I got all smiley all of a sudden. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the music. It was sort of everything and nothing - just a good day, I think.
