Controlled Chaos

I met my friend Veena at the South Street Seaport today. Actually, we met at the eastmost two stop, got some turkish food, and headed to the dock. We talked about Kerouac, food co-ops, recent goings-on, and, at long last, school for just a bit. The sun was out, it was beautiful. I also had her listen to Maghrebika. Then I went home and continued to procrastinate on writing my Fulbright proposal.

That night, Kristin came over, we made fried okra from scratch, and then watched Casino.  Then I walked her home because it was LATE, but put off seeing it until Danielle is there to show me her noteworthy room.

I went and met up with Kristin and Arun and Pierre and Danielle and whoever else on the 10th floor of the Kimmel Center.  I watched a host of amazing speakers, including Christine Quinn and John Hsu.  Then I drank wine.  It was a very fun and enjoyable evening.

Today, when I woke up, I decided to fast to cleanse myself. I only drank orange juice and soy milk and water today, and I felt fine. The next morning, I was a bit incontinent, and had some granola and yogurt, and felt great.

But anyway, this day I went down to the National Museum of Natural History to see Sarah on her last day in town. I tried to pay, but when I asked about the museum exhibits being aligned with the standards, the attendant gave me back my money and said “all these people are so rich, just keep it.” I insisted on paying, but she only let me pay a dollar. That was kind of cool. Then we walked through a couple exhibits and talked, then went to the gift shop to get stuff for her nieces. At about 3:30, they had to be off. So I went back home, relaxed, and came right back down again, this time to almost the same subway stop. TFA was having happy hours, so I went to all three in Manhattan. The first one Mara Waldhorn was at but Pierre never showed up, the second one Kristin and her roommates were at and the bar was open which didn’t matter since I knew better than to drink while fasting, and the third Felicia was at which was plenty awkward, so I just caught up with Anjali and left. So I went back to the best bar, with people I knew who were all enjoying free drinks, and the beer pong had died down (was quite exciting for the three rounds I had watched earlier), and everyone was downstairs in a booth now. I met a bunch of fun ’07ers, and Kristin’s friend Rachel and her started swing dancing, so her roommate Danielle and I joined along, and it was a pretty funny scene I’m sure for two couples to be swing dancing, or learning to swing dance better yet, right in the middle of a bar, but no one seemed to mind and we were having a lot of fun. At long last, everyone finally decided it was time to go home, them exhausted due to being up early for institute, me just feeling ready for down time. I helped a bunch of them get where they needed to go, and came home and slept.

I woke up early, and worked on my Fulbright all morning, for no reason as it would turn out.  I went to Vicky’s office, and she was pretty critical, with good reason.  However, she was very excited about my prospects if I applied as an English Teaching Assistant, but I couldn’t go to India under that auspice.  So I have decided to apply for an ETA to Indonesia, as long as the travel warning doesn’t hinder me.  This is the right decision for several reasons: India’s program starts three days after the last day of school, Indonesia’s three months; India would require me to develop ground contacts and get letters from them in less than a month; Indonesia requires nothing of me, as they make arrangements for housing and employment on their end; I would be competing for one of 13 slots s a researcher, but there are 30 ETA spots in Indonesia; my project is too small as it stands to be a full-blown Fulbright study, but it’s a perfect research component that is mandated in companion with an ETA position; lastly, my skills as an English teacher will be of more service in Indonesia, and I will broaden my understanding of the world by living in the country with the world largest population of muslims (people, too, I think), which also has a goodly population of Buddhists and Hindus as well.

So anyway…  I got out of Vicky’s office, and met up with paul just in time.  We moved some stuff from his old house to the new one, and then I caught a ride up to El Rancho to see Abhishek.  We ended up talking for three hours, and I missed going to Harpo’s, but I wasn’t even worried about that because we were having such great conversation.  Eventually, though, we parted ways, and I walked to Scott’s, or tried to, got lost and ended up at Paul’s community garden.  Scott came there and picked me up, and I was back where I started my CoMo visit.  Then I went to On the Rocks and caught up with Jamie Custer and her new boyfriend, and after that they drove me back to Paul’s.  We had been stewing green tomatoes with peppers and whatever else, and strained them, and cooked them again, and now we cooked some rotini and had the sauce on it and mhmm it was delicious. Then I went to sleep.

I got up, surprised Paul, and we walked to his community garden to do some upkeeping.  We were out there for over an hour, because in his one-month absence, the attack of the edible tomatoes had occurred.  They were everywhere.  They had even grown two of the metal planters right out of the ground!  The garden was in good shape otherwise, though, five lanes deep and very productive.  We brought back a lot of unripened tomatos that were on branches that just had to go.  He put them in the windowsill at his new house, which at least looks cool if nothing else:

When we got back, Paul cut up some of the peppers we’d gathered, and put them in tortillas with some cream cheese.  They were delicious, and the capsaicin was enough to make your tongue smoke, but then everything tasted more.  After a while, Eric came over and fulfilled his bet on camera.  Then, he, Paul, Scott, Kristi, Harley and I went to the Ragtag to see Eagle v. Shark.  I love the Ragtag.  And I thought the movie was pretty great as well.  When we got back to Paul’s new place, there was a little party rocking, and I hung out for a while, then dragged some blankets into n empty room, and slept on them.

By the way, I put up as my status message on facebook that I am “vagabonding.”    Accoridng to wikipedia, “a vagabond is a (generally impoverished) itinerant person. Such people may be called tramps, rogues, hobos or schnorrer.  A vagabond is a traveling person that does not have a fixed home or abode. They just roam wherever he or she pleases.  Vagabonds are not bums, as bums are not known for traveling.”  That’s totally me right now, and I live/love it.

Miles’ acceptance speech

This is truly touching.

I got up early this morning, did my exercise routine, and headed down to NYU’s Kimmel center to check the ’07s into orientation.  I had fun with it, and took Kristin, the CM coming to my school, to Ray’s pizza for lunch.  Then I heard Chancellor Klein speak, and asked him: As the small-schools movement continues, what plans are in place to ensure that historically marginalized populations of students such as ESL and special education students are in schools that can provide them with the level of support they deserve?  Then I rode back uptown, relaxed for a bit, then went right back down to meet with Sarah Rausch, nee Lavely, and her husband Jared, and her friend for dinner and to celebrate her birthday and trip to NYC.  We talked for about three hours.  I had a delicious spaghetti al limone.  Then I went home, read some of Gary Snyder’s poems, and went to bed.

Everything is coming to a close.  I went to breakfast with my dad and Laura but didn’t have much to say at first then got worked up about the education system.  So when we got back I packed my bags but just felt uncomfortable, leaving my dad and my home to go to a place I once thought was better.  And now I’m on the plane experiencing the sleek wealth of technology, roaring a thousand miles in only 2 hours and 5 minutes, drinks included snacks extra.  Then I’ll be unpacking and wrestling with uncomfortability, surrounded by friends I may not even have.  I feel strong and at the same time I feel timid for returning; I only want to return to the lake, to the bugbites, to the open spaces.

The title is the last line of Keruoac’s “The Dharma Bums,” which I started and finished on this trip.

I woke up and Paul was nowhere to be found, and eventually he emerged from Colin’s room who was out of town.  So we got ready, and got rolling, and made it to the winery first even though we left really late.  My dad and his girlfriend Laura came, and had brought my friend Beth Warner, nee Sellers, with them.  We went to Stonehill winery in Hermann first, then to two more in Augusta, tasting this and that and sitting on grand verandas under a good warm sun.

Our crew, at Stonehill

Casks of wine.  In the back, on the left, a cask that outlived prohibition by making ceremonial wine for a church.

A grapecrusher that outlasted prohibition hiding in a barn on some remote farm

Then back to the loft, and Cory came over to hang for a while.  He’s going to take the recliner, and we watched Blood Diamond, and then he left and I slept.

 I got up, got to the J school by 10, and worked for a while.  I met Marla Applebaum-Wilcox, a friend of mine who works in the Vice Provost’s office, for lunch at Moe’s.  Then I went back to the J-school to work for a while, and ran into Craig Weiland and Larry Powell.  I worked on my Fulbright application for a while after that, then went to Dan’s with Paul, then to Amber’s.  Sterling was there, and I hadn’t seen him in a while.  After that, we went to Flatbranch, where I bought growlers of Strawberry Lager and British IPA, which we enjoyed as we cut up green tomatoes, peppers, and whetever else for a pasta sauce.